Chapter 14
Before I could even register what was going on, he gently but firmly pulled me, guiding me toward the wing Noah and I shared. I protested, digging my heels to no avail, but his grip was solid. “Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing? Stop ordering me around like one of your soldiers. I’m a grown woman, a lady for God’s sake.”
My protests fell on deaf ears as we entered the room. Laurel sprang to her feet upon seeing us, her eyes darting between Anderic dragging me inside and the room where Noah and I had our conversation earlier. I cringed internally. I had completely forgotten about her presence. Fortunately, she didn’t say anything, or rather didn’t get the chance to say anything as Anderic quickly whisked me into my bedchamber and shut the door.
“Sit,” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.
So, I did the opposite, I stood my ground and didn’t sit. I planted my feet, jutted out my chin like a petulant child, and crossed my arms. “I prefer to stand, thank you very much.”
Anderic’s eyes flashed with something between irritation and danger. He fixed me with a look that could melt Aetherian steel, so I reluctantly sat down on the edge of the bed. No need to poke the dragon. Satisfied, he disappeared into the bathroom and returned moments later with a damp towel. He pulled up a stool and sat directly in front of me, his knees nearly touching mine.
As he began to dab at my wound lightly, I flinched, partly from pain and partly from our close proximity. His touch was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to the intensity in his gaze as he focused on cleaning the cut. My heart started fluttering at his intense gaze. I took in a shaky breath. This gentle side of his was way too confusing.
What is wrong with my heart these days? It must be from that day in the garden.
Well, attraction is a construct anyway.
“You know, it’s highly inappropriate for you to barge into a lady’s bedchamber like this,” I blurted out to distract myself from those mesmerizing eyes.
He didn’t respond for a while, continuing to clean the wound with infuriating calmness. When he finally looked up, that insufferable smirk was back in place. “I bet it is,” he drawled, one eyebrow raised in challenge.
I bristled. “What kind of answer is that?”
But before I could start my rant building on my tongue, Anderic stood and called for Laurel to bring some medicine. When he returned, his voice dropped low, almost intimate. “This is going to hurt.”
I gritted my teeth as Prince Anderic applied a salve to the wound on my forehead. The sharp stinging made my eyes water.
“You’re surprisingly good at this,” I remarked, unable to hold my curiosity. I had been observing how deftly he cleaned the cut and put the medicine, quick but gentle. He had quite some experience.
Anderic’s lips twitched, caught between a smirk and a scowl. “You’re forgetting I might be a prince, but I spent significant time on the frontlines. As a soldier, you learn these things.”
I’d almost forgotten that he’d gone to battle when he’d barely reached adulthood. Every Aetherian heir was supposed to spend a few years in the army to better understand their role as a future monarch and the people who risked their lives. Unfortunately for Anderic, his time had coincided with the war between Aetheria and Elenthar.
I’d been quite young then. So I didn’t remember much. A tentative peace agreement was signed between the two kingdoms, but hostility still simmered beneath the surface.
Anderic finished dressing my cut with practiced ease. “There, it’s done.”
I reached up to gingerly touch the bandage. We both stood there as an awkward silence fell between us.
I cleared my throat. “Thank you,” I finally managed.
Anderic studied me for a long moment. “You’re welcome,” he said at last as his mask was back on his face. “Though I do hope you’ll be more careful around walking walls in the future.”
“Well then,” he said, moving towards the door. “I’ll leave you to rest. But Lya?”
I looked up, startled by the use of my childhood nickname. “Yes?”
He paused, his hand on the doorknob. He looked back at me, his golden curls shone like spun gold in the late afternoon light streaming through the window. For a moment, he looked almost angelic. Then he spoke, and the illusion shattered. “Whatever you’re scheming, whatever you’re mixed up in… be careful.”
And with that cryptic warning, he was gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts and a throbbing headache.
The room was just as I’d left it this morning - bed neatly made, curtains drawn back to let in the afternoon light, a vase of fresh flowers on the bedside table. I collapsed onto the bed, not even bothering to remove my shoes. The soft mattress felt like heaven after the day’s events.
Shaking my head and immediately regretting it as pain lanced through my skull, I thought over all the things that happened today, and where I spectacularly messed up. Rosalind’s fury, the vase smashing with my head, Noah being Noah, and… Anderic’s strange behavior. It all mixed together in a confusing mess.
It all felt surreal. How had so much changed for the worse in just one day? I was so sure of my plans. No, it was wrong of me to think this would be easy.
I groaned, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes. This was not how I’d envisioned my grand plan of becoming a peaceful farmer going. I was supposed to swoop in, clear Magnus’s name, bring together Rosalind and Noah, then leave the capital to lead a peaceful life.
* * *
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, tracing the fading bruise on my forehead. I had been sulking for two days. The self-imposed exile had done little to soothe my wounded pride or quell the raging thoughts in my mind.
With a dramatic sigh, I turned away from the mirror and flopped onto the plush bed. My fingers idly traced the intricate embroidery on the silk coverlet as I thought about my next move.
I had no idea how things were going outside or with Rosalind. I wanted to send Laurel to bring me information but she had been giving me the cold shoulder after I went with Noah, leaving Laurel behind, and forgot to tell her. She deserved her anger, after all. So, I let her be.
“My lady?” Laurel’s cool and distant voice drifted through the door, putting extra emphasis on my lady . “Do you require anything?”
I winced. She had reverted back to ‘my lady’ again. “No, thank you, Laurel,” I called back, trying to keep the regret from my voice.
Silence answered me. Fantastic.
I rolled onto my back, staring at the intricately painted ceiling. Was Rosalind settling in, charming everyone with her genuine kindness and grace? Was she plotting my downfall, sharpening daggers with that steely determination I’d so foolishly underestimated?
“Stop it,” I muttered, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes until I saw stars. “You’re being pathetic.”
Sulking wasn’t going to solve anything, and I couldn’t hide in here forever. I needed to make preparations of my own since winning over Rosalind clearly didn’t work.
I reached for the leather-bound journal on my nightstand, flipping it open to a fresh page. Lists had always been my go-to when life spiraled out of control, a habit that had served me well in both my past and present lives. With a wry smile, I began to jot down my new priorities:
1. Make money (Because if nothing worked I could still flee to another kingdom and start over)
2. Find new allies (God knows I’d need them with how hellbent Rosalind is to take me down and I’m sure all the men who are or will be in love with her would also want my head on a spike)
I tapped the quill against my chin, considering my options. The palace was a treacherous place, full of snakes masquerading as nobles. But perhaps… perhaps I could find an unlikely ally outside these walls.
Enough was enough. It was time to leave this self-imposed exile and start making plans again.
The next morning, I emerged from my chambers like a butterfly from its cocoon – if butterflies wore dark, understated gowns and carried a wicked scar on their forehead. Laurel trailed behind me, her silence more pointed than any verbal jab she could have delivered.
As we made our way through the palace corridors, I couldn’t help but notice the hushed whispers and sidelong glances that followed in our wake. It seemed my little “accident” with Rosalind hadn’t gone unnoticed and it seemed like Rosalind had already used it to her advantage. Fantastic.
Frustration bubbled in my veins. The bitter taste of my own medicine churned in my stomach. Is this how she felt like in the past?
“My lady,” Laurel’s voice was crisp, devoid of the usual warmth. “Shall I fetch the carriage for our journey to Magnolia Boutique?”
I turned to face her, taking in the rigid set of her shoulders and the carefully blank expression on her face. I sighed—I had to fix this somehow. But I also took this in a positive light, she wouldn’t have dared to do this in the past.
The bell above the door chimed cheerfully as I strode into Magnolia Boutique, Laurel trailing behind me like a particularly judgmental shadow. The shop smelled of smoke and spices, a welcome change from the cloying perfumes of the palace. Annalise stood behind the counter, her usually bright demeanor dimmed. When she saw me, however, her face lit up.
“Lady Stormbourne! What a pleasant surprise,” she exclaimed, hurrying around the counter to greet me.
I couldn’t help but smile, taking in the neat rows of fabric and half-finished gowns that lined the walls. At least someone was happy to see me. “Hello, Annalise. How are my dresses coming along?”
“Oh, splendidly! Since you’re here, let’s do a quick fitting to make sure everything’s perfect.”
As Annalise fussed with pins and fabric, I studied her face. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her smile didn’t quite reach them. Something was bothering her, and I had a sneaking suspicion I knew what it was.
“Is everything alright, Annalise?” I asked, keeping my tone light.
She hesitated, her hands stilling on the fabric. “It’s… it’s going well, my lady. Your order has been keeping me quite busy.”
I hummed noncommittally, my eyes scanning the room. The racks seemed emptier than I remembered, the bolts of fabric fewer. A faint layer of dust had settled on some of the more elaborate gowns in the corner.
I knew her boutique was not doing very well despite my big order.
As Annalise fussed with the hem of my dress, an idea began to take shape in my mind. In my previous life, Annalise had been Rosalind’s steadfast ally. She not only helped create that magnificent dress for Rosalind to enter the palace ball in disguise but also had been instrumental in aiding my downfall, I didn’t know how yet. But now, with Rosalind safely ensconced in the palace, she wouldn’t need Annalise’s dress. Perhaps I could redirect that loyalty.
So, what if I helped Annalise instead of Rosalind? With how Rosalind is right now I’d need to cut off some of her helping hands.
I smiled inwardly. Sometimes, the universe had a funny way of aligning with my plans.
“Laurel,” I called out, my voice sweet as honey. “Be a dear and fetch my coin purse, would you?”
My handmaiden’s eyes narrowed infinitesimally, but she complied without a word.
With an exaggerated sigh of contentment, I stretched, allowing the fabric to settle around me. “Annalise, darling, your work is simply exquisite. I must insist on compensating you further.” Bravo! What acting!
Annalise’s head snapped up, her eyes widening. “Oh, no, my lady! That’s not necessary—”
I waved away her protests, accepting the heavy purse from Laurel. “Nonsense. Your talent deserves proper recognition,” I pressed a substantial sum into her hand, watching as her jaw dropped.
“My… my lady, I can’t possibly—”
“You can, and you will,” I said firmly, allowing a hint of steel to enter my voice. “In fact, I have a task for you. Tomorrow, I want you to visit the Merchant’s Guild and purchase every scrap of raw silk you can find.”
Annalise blinked rapidly, her brow furrowing in confusion. Even Laurel couldn’t suppress a small gasp, finally breaking her frigid silence. Oh, so now you’re interested?
“But… but my lady,” Annalise stammered, “raw silk is practically worthless right now. The eastern harvests have flooded the market, and—”
I placed a hand on her shoulder, channeling every ounce of aristocratic confidence I could muster. “Trust me, Annalise. This isn’t charity; it’s an investment. One that will pay back for us both.”
She bit her lip, clearly torn between her gratitude and her business sense. “I’m grateful for your help, truly. But I can’t in good conscience take your money for something so risky.”
I leaned in close, lowering my voice conspiratorially. “Listen carefully. The winds of fashion are about to change, and you, my dear, will be at the forefront. All I ask is that you remember who gave you this opportunity.”
Annalise’s eyes widened, a spark of hope igniting in their depths. “You really think so?”
I smiled, patting her cheek gently. “I know so. Now, run along and make those preparations. Opportunity waits for no one.”
As Annalise scurried off to finish my gowns, practically vibrating with nervous energy, I allowed myself a moment of smug satisfied smile. It was almost too easy, really. A few kind words, a bag of coins, and suddenly I had a potential ally eating out of the palm of my hand.
I do so love it when a plan comes together.
Catching sight of Laurel’s disapproving frown in the mirror, I sighed internally. She went from being scared of me to a judgmental friend pretty quickly. One battle at a time, Ilyana.