Chapter 22 One Bed #2
“I have no doubt in my mind that people will not only remember you are here, but will be waiting in line for their chance inside this inn,” Ira said.
It was in the softness around his eyes and the sincerity in the deep undertones of his voice.
Agnes might not have seen it, for it was, but Luci did.
He was making a promise. It was a ridiculous promise that even as a crown prince would be hard to keep, but Luci didn’t doubt him.
If anyone could do it, it would be the optimistic prince sitting across from her.
“Well, I sure hope so, magic knows we will be here,” she said. “Now I’ll let you two get to it.”
There was no arguing with her as she stepped away, off to wait at the front desk as more patrons would enter at any moment.
“That’s a big promise,” Luci said.
Despite the sensation that her stomach might pop at any moment, Luci couldn’t bear to waste even one carrot.
Dragging it through the brown gravy left from the meat, she popped it into her mouth and closed her eyes once more, marveling at the flavors dancing over her tongue.
There was garlic, butter, salt, and the gravy was a warm, hearty cream that settled just right among the rest.
“I don’t make promises I can’t keep except one,” he said.
It wasn’t his normal lightness, but instead, there was a heaviness to the words, as if they weighed against him.
Luci opened her eyes and found him watching her, no smile on his face, but instead something else. Something she couldn’t begin to name, except that it was steeped in sincerity.
“What promise is that?” she asked.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, the lantern’s light flickering between them.
“Is it breaking a promise if the person the promise was made to broke it first?” he asked.
A strange question. If Luci’s stomach wasn’t about to pop open, she might have been more prepared to analyze it, but as it was, she was already fading into a state of obliviousness lulled by a perfect meal.
“Was the promise contingent on the other person’s promise?” she asked, surprised at the clarity in the question.
Ira thought for a moment before nodding his head. “It does.”
“Then I suppose not,” Luci said.
She ate too much. Not an ounce of self-control in sight.
What she needed was to go lie down. Sleep sounded like a wonderful dream except for the reminder that they had one bed between the two of them.
Maybe sleep wasn’t a good idea after all.
Maybe she would just stay down here until it was time to go tomorrow.
“How can I make life better for the people here?” he asked.
His plate was mostly empty except for the carrots, which were entirely untouched.
“You don’t like carrots?” Luci asked.
“I would ban them if I didn’t think the farmers might rebel for it,” he said.
She could feel the corner of her mouth pull up, but she quickly rectified the situation and leaned back in her chair, hoping it would magically allow room to develop in her stomach. It felt stretched tight, but she didn’t regret a single thing.
“There’s a lot of wealth in the capital. Thornhollow has everything they need. Despite that, Picadilly Street still exists,” she said.
“Picadilly street?” he asked, leaning forward.
He was so sincere. Eyes focused, lips slightly apart, brow pushed down with the tell-tale sign of concentration. He cared about her answers, but she shouldn’t have had to give them to him. What was a king who didn’t know the state of his kingdom?
“In Thornhollow, there’s a street called Picadilly Street. It’s where the poorest of the poor live, among other business pursuits. It’s not a place anyone wants to be,” she said.
Wrapping her arms around her middle, she suddenly didn’t feel full enough.
Who was she to let food go to waste when some had none?
Once upon a time, she’d only ever dreamed of her stomach being full enough to burst. Even though she’d been young, it was an impossible feeling to forget.
As deeply ingrained in her memory as her own name.
“How do you know of it?”
She lifted her gaze to find his lips pressed together, a muscle flickering at the edge of his jawline.
Despite herself, she let her lips give way into the smallest of smiles.
The valiant prince, with his noble charm, is determined to vanquish dragons both seen and unseen.
So was his naivety, but there was a beauty in it that she couldn’t bring herself to resent it.
“I grew up there for the first five years of my life. My mother worked for The Velvet Apple, and it was enough to keep us off the street, but then she died. I was on my own for two weeks. I found holes to hide in and scavenged food from trash. When Mrs. Blakesley found me, I was trying to steal the coins in her purse. She told me she had a job for me with a warm bed at the end of the day if I could follow directions.”
Maybe it was the food or the sincerity behind his eyes that forced the words from her, but once they were gone from her, she didn’t regret them.
Both Brielle and he forgot too often where she came from and what she was made for.
More than that, he should know what his sparkling kingdom hid in its shadows.
It was easy to be a king who didn’t see, but she hoped more for the prince sitting across from her.
He swallowed hard, but didn’t hide from the truth.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She nodded.
“I’m not,” she said. “I’d do it all again just to find Brielle.”
He nodded slowly, leaning back in his chair.
“I’m going to change things,” he promised.
Luci didn’t know a lot of things, but she knew that if anyone could do it, she would have put her faith in him every time.
“How?” she asked.
Even though it was he who asked the question only moments ago, he’d learned something that hadn’t been there before.
His lip curved to the side, dimple on display as he tapped a finger against the table.
A flutter lit within her chest, and it might have been indigestion from too much food, but it felt a terrible lot like hope.