Insolence
Chapter seven
Lucianna had lost control. She had spent the days since finding out her circumstances immersing herself in a sea of calm. Though she couldn’t direct this situation, she could direct her response.
Finnick Valengard had dismantled that painstaking composure with one glance.
She stepped out of that carriage and didn’t have to guess who he was.
It was in the way he carried himself. The way the sun fell across his golden hair as if he told it where to shine.
Then he spoke. And Lucianna felt it. Her pulse fluttered at the silken tone he used.
When he began to tease the party, warmth radiated from her chest outward.
The desire to fight followed shortly after.
“Father is going to be furious,” Damon hissed near her ear.
Her brother’s grip on her arm was firm but not painful.
Meanwhile, Prince Castien was rising from the velvet sofa like it was a throne.
Princess Wren remained seated. Her hands were nestled primly in her lap.
She looked like a portrait. Lucianna envied the peace she exuded.
Nothing betrayed her thoughts save for a slight furrow in her brow.
“Lucianna was chosen for a reason beyond her family’s business,” the prince spoke.
Lucianna tugged her arm out of her brother’s hold and squared her shoulders. Though her outburst was a mistake, she wouldn’t back down. Morrowes never cowered.
“And what reason is that?” Lord Finnick asked, his silken voice turned gruff. “Since you’ve decided to keep everyone in the dark about it.”
“Not everyone,” Princess Wren chimed in with a soft smirk.
Finnick shot her a glare, but there was no heat to the look. Lucianna’s time in the three’s presence had been short, but she discerned rather quickly that there was a strong bond between them.
“Thank you for clarifying, darling Wren,” Finnick said dryly. “So it’s only me who’s been deprived of key information about my bride.”
Lucianna’s stomach clenched at the word bride. Beside her, Damon visibly stiffened. Though she had mentioned their marriage before, that had been during a moment of anger. There wasn’t time to ponder the weight of the word.
“If you would have been paying attention, she already revealed a portion of the reason to you,” Prince Castien said.
A smirk snuck onto Lucianna’s lips. She liked the prince. He was someone she could get along with.
Lucianna studied Finnick. His impossibly blue eyes were narrowed in concentration. She tapped into her Gift and felt it warm the base of her throat as she swapped voices.
“I’ll give you a hint,” she said in Finnick’s own voice. He startled at the sound.
“You said earlier that you stole voices,” he murmured. There was a hint of awe in his tone, and Lucianna had to push away the foolish fluttering that returned because of it.
“She’s also highly trained in extraction,” Castien added.
Lucianna switched back to the voice she’d been using.
“He means I’m a professional thief,” she said in a teasing way that earned her another pointed look from her brother.
“Please forgive my sister if she offended any of you. Essential or not, she knows how to respect authority.”
It was Lucianna’s turn to glare at her brother. How could he undermine her in such a way? She’d just begun to win against Finnick.
“Not to worry, Lord Damon,” Wren soothed while wearing a faint smile. “It would take a lot to offend any of us.”
Damon opened his mouth, but Lucianna elbowed him in the side before he could reply.
“These are not ideal circumstances for either party,” Prince Castien stated plainly. Lucianna glanced at her betrothed, her breath catching when he was already staring at her. “But they are reality. I do not care if you hate each other for the rest of your lives—”
“Castien,” Wren scolded. “We care about Finn’s happiness.”
Finnick chuckled. “Perhaps you do, darling Wren, but your husband is not concerned with such trivial matters.”
Lucianna worked to keep her expression neutral. That was the second time Finnick had called the princess darling. In front of the prince. Was there something to the endearment? Could even the future emperor not keep his wife from being charmed?
Castien heaved an exasperated sigh.
“Of course I care. Finn knows that.” He looked pointedly at Finnick, whose grin was lined with mischief.
“However, I will not coddle him. There are greater things at play. As I’ve said before, they have the rest of their lives to learn to like each other.
I am simply removing the pressure to do so now. ”
Wren met her husband’s gaze. There was a brief moment of silence before she nodded in acquiescence.
The rest of their lives. What was once an expansive drawing room now felt like the cabinet in Lord Treisling’s ballroom.
Confined to the point of breathlessness.
For all her talk of this being about the heist and nothing else, she could not ignore that once they accomplished their mysterious goal, she would be chained to Finnick Valengard until her dying breath.
“We will need to work together, though,” Wren reminded quietly. “Animosity must be tempered, lest we fail in a crucial moment.”
“Rest assured, Your Highness, I won’t let my emotions get the better of me when it counts,” Lucianna said with conviction.
Castien’s gaze landed briefly on Damon, then settled on Lucianna.
“It’s best if we halt this discussion until after the wedding,” he asserted, the words more command than suggestion.
Lucianna dipped her chin. Damon knew that there was a quest at hand, but he didn’t have more details, and he would not receive any from this moment forward. It pained her to leave her brother out, but it was necessary that as few people knew about their plans as possible to minimize liabilities.
“Well, now that we’ve established my betrothed hates me and has the freedom to continue to do so, shall we take a tour of the castle?” Finnick asked.
“That sounds like a lovely idea,” Wren quickly answered.
Castien extended his hand to his wife, who took it and rose from the sofa.
He bent down and murmured something unintelligible in her ear, and she shook her head with a soft smile.
They moved to the door in synchronicity, Lord Finnick not far behind them.
Damon grasped Lucianna’s arm again to hold her back from the others. They followed at a slow pace.
“Why do you not deny your hatred?” he asked quietly, his tone coated in concern. “It is bad enough you are not using your true voice. If Father heard of your insolence—”
“He will not hear of it. As for my voice, it is none of your concern,” she whispered.
“You have committed to a facade you will have to maintain every day for the rest of your life or admit you have lied. Not to mention the fact that using your Gift will wear on you.” Damon looked down at her, his eyes lined with concern.
“I’m worried about you, Lu. I-I cannot come with you where you are going next.
I need to know you are taking care of yourself, being safe. ”
Some of the fight seeped out of Lucianna’s tense muscles. Her stubbornness had gotten her into a situation bound for failure, and Damon—ever the protective brother—was concerned. This she could sympathize with, though his fretting would do nothing for her now. She was stuck.
“I will be fine, I promise. I know what I’m doing.” She could tell her words didn’t reassure him.
They stepped into the hallway.
“I hope you do.”