Chapter 54
“Please, Father. Let me do this.”
My hands were clasped in front of me, tiny braids falling into my eyes as I stood before his desk. He held a quill in one hand, the ink already drying at its tip as he listened to me. With the other, he rubbed his chin before reaching for his cup of mead.
“Daughter, why do you want to go there? I know the road is safe, but what if something happens?”
He left the quill resting in the inkpot.
I licked my lips and tucked the braids behind my ears. I thought about whether I should lie to him, as I had done hundreds of times before whenever I wanted something, or whether this time I should look him in the eyes with an honest face and tell him the truth.
Since Lys was waiting outside the door this time, I pulled out the chair opposite him and sat down. I took a deep breath, breathing in the scent of wood and ink and old, burned-out candles, before biting the insides of my cheeks.
“Welme told me that she was brought here against her will,” I began, shrugging as I tried to turn the story in my favor as gently as I could. “And when she told me how broken she was by being forbidden from leaving the castle, I decided that I had enough to repay her.”
Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. His head tilted slightly, and his nostrils widened.
“Daughter, she is a servant. That is her job. To work and serve you. You cannot fulfill the wishes and carry the sorrows of every servant you have.”
Something in his words struck me strangely.
My eyes moved across his untidy desk and the hundreds of papers he signed every day, each one stamped and sealed with wax.
“I know she is a servant, but she is my servant. I want to repay her, Father, and I truly believe she deserves it.” I looked into his old, tired eyes.
He sighed but said nothing.
“And I truly want us to go there. If she wants it, I want to release her from her duties. She deserves a life she chooses for herself, not one her father forced upon her when he sold her.”
His jaw tightened at the mention of her father.
“And as for safety, those roads are safe, especially these last two years. Ser Lysande will be with us, of course. We'll take ordinary horses, not royal ones, and travel under disguise into the city. Sanaedeo does it all the time, as do my other brothers.”
I shrugged as though it were the simplest thing in the world.
He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.
I almost smiled, knowing exactly what that meant.
“Take Sanaedeo with you—”
“He already left the castle yesterday,” I interrupted.
He inhaled again.
“I won't even tell you to take Faran, and he's gone as well. As far as I heard, he rode east again.”
He shook his head, and relief loosened something in my chest. East was completely opposite from where we were supposed to be celebrating.
“I suppose you'll need a paper releasing her from her duties.”
He began searching for a blank sheet, and I jumped to my feet.
“Thank you, Father.”
Like a child, I had always done this whenever he allowed me something I wanted, which was almost every time. I hurried around the desk and kissed his left cheek.
“Thank you so much.”
He laughed and shook his head.
“Just don't do anything foolish, please.”
He dipped the quill into the ink a few times, shook off the excess, and began writing a royal declaration releasing Welme from her contract.
A few moments later, he held red wax over the candle flame before letting the melted wax drip onto the paper. Then he pressed the seal from his ring into it.
“There you are, daughter. And please be careful. Come back as quickly as you can.”
He smiled before studying my face.
“You've changed, you know. This is the first time you've ever asked something of me for someone else, instead of yourself.”
I didn't know what to say to that, so I only smiled and lowered my head in a small bow while he returned to the papers on his desk.
Just before I opened the door, while he was still looking down at the document he had been writing, Father spoke again.
“Kindness suits you, daughter. Don't lose it.”
He looked at me from the corner of his eye.
This time, I didn't turn around.
My hand remained on the door handle as I looked at the mahogany doors carved with scenes of war. Before I even realized what I was saying, the words slipped from my lips.
“As long as my shadow is kind, I shall remain too, Father.”
I opened the door and left without waiting for an answer.
“Princess, what's going on?”
Welme looked at me in confusion as I emptied money into a small leather pouch and tied it shut. Lysande stood nearby with his arms crossed over his chest, watching the two of us with a gentle smile.
He already knew what was happening. I had shown him the paper the moment I came out of my father's chambers.
I tightened the pouch and tossed it onto the bed before turning toward her.
“Sit down, Welme, please.” I gestured toward the bed, and she lowered herself onto it slowly, still confused and a little frightened.
“Princess, is everything alright? Did I do something—”
“Welme, nothing is wrong.”
I stood in front of her and smiled. “You've served me faithfully for years without a single complaint. You keep my secrets and take care of my problems.”
Her green eyes followed me in confusion.
“And I've realized that I haven't exactly been good to you. To one of my oldest friends. I've spent a long time thinking about how I could repay you.”
I smiled and took her hands in mine. She gently squeezed my palms.
“Princess, that's my job. You have nothing to thank me for. It is my honor—”
“But do you want it to be your job?” I asked as I sat beside her. For a moment, she didn't answer. She pressed her lips together. Then her eyes filled with tears.
“Princess, my beginning here may not have been happy, but I truly am happy now. I can't imagine my life any other way.”
The first tears slipped down her face.
Lys, ever the gentle knight, stepped forward and offered her a handkerchief. She accepted it, wiping her cheeks before turning back toward me.
“Welme, after what you told me—” She immediately jumped to her feet.
“No, Princess. That was a mistake. Please don't take those words as truth. I only got carried away—”
“Welme, I am giving you a choice now.” She froze in her steps, and her wide eyes searched my face, trying to find a jest or perhaps cruelty on it. From inside my coat, I pulled out the scroll and held it toward her. “Open it.” She stood completely still with the paper in her hands.
Finally, her trembling fingers loosened the ribbon and unfolded it.
For a moment, she read.
Then she dropped to her knees.
Her sobs echoed through the room so loudly that I lowered myself beside her and placed a hand on her knee.
“Welme...” I whispered, but she didn't hear me.
She only pressed the paper against her chest and cried.
“Welme.” Again, I pulled her into my arms.
She wrapped both arms around me with all her strength and began crying even harder.
“I-I can't accept this, Princess,” she rasped.
I stroked her red curls and quietly murmured, “Shh, Welme, this is your choice now. All of us will ride to your village together and try to find your beloved. Whatever we find there, and whatever you decide, I will stand behind your choice. If you choose to stay there,
you will have enough money to live comfortably. And if you return with me, you will be free. Not a servant, but my lady. The choice will be yours.”
I said it into her hair, and she cried even harder at my final words.
Choice.
The first time she had been given one in years.
A pang of guilt shot through me like an arrow when I realized I could have given her that choice years ago.
If only I had asked about her.
If only I had asked about her story and her feelings.
“Thank you, Princess. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.” She somehow lowered herself until her face rested in my lap, her hands clutching at whatever part of my dress they could find. Her tears soaked through the fabric, as the position made my legs heavy and numb.
Yet even through all the discomfort, when I lifted my eyes toward Lys, everything seemed easier.
Clearer.
He looked at me with such warmth, such gentleness, as though he could see the entire world inside me, but only the good parts of it. As though, to him, I was all of that goodness.
He stood quietly in the corner, not wanting to intrude on our moment. But when I lifted my free hand toward him, he smiled.
He slowly intertwined his now bare fingers with mine, gentle as though he were holding a delicate flower, and lowered himself to his knees beside us. He kissed my knuckles before rising and returning to his place.