Chapter fourteen
TAVRIC
The night left me too much time to think.
Having to sit for the formal audience had been torture—especially when I refused to even look at Lyrielle for comfort—but at least it had forced me to think of something other than Lyri and how I’d been using her, how I had to stop using her.
I’d attended the usual banquet in the evening, but I’d sat silent, barely even coherent as Dorian and Kavian entertained and charmed all those in attendance.
I was nervous about seeing Lyri, especially in this public setting, but she hadn’t come.
She had planned to, but something must have happened.
It was better that way—that was what I told myself.
It gave me more time to plan out what I would say, how I would tell her that our time together needed to come to an end.
So I’d barely slept as guilt pounded my insides, a beat to accompany the wild hum of anxiety that the day had produced.
As a result of my restless night, my appearance was haggard as I went down to breakfast, but that would be my chance to speak with her.
I’d sent word to my father’s chief advisor that he should cancel the morning audience, and I felt like a failure because of it, but I refused to put off this conversation.
It needed to happen before Princess Saria and her delegation arrived tomorrow.
However, Lyri was not at breakfast, and the longer I waited for her arrival, the more unnerved I became. Had she eaten before I came downstairs? Unlikely. I’d been up with the sun.
Both of my brothers came, ate, and left, neither bothering to strike up a conversation. I was pacing by the time my mother came in.
“Have you seen Lyri?” I asked without preamble.
“Not today.”
“Do you know where she is? She didn’t come to eat.” And I knew how much Lyri appreciated the delicious variety of food each morning.
“I imagine she ate in the kitchen with the rest of the staff,” she said as she spooned potatoes onto her plate.
The knot of anxiety tightened. “Why?”
Mama looked up at me, her look pitying. “Because she has secured a position as a seamstress, and that’s where she will be eating from now on.”
I stared at her in shock, my mouth open and my chest tight.
My mother sighed and set her plate down. “Tavric, what did you expect, darling? That you could continue to keep the company of a young foreign girl while entertaining Princess Saria?”
My lips pressed into a tight line. “I did not invite the princess here.”
“But she is coming. What was I supposed to do?”
“You did this?” I asked, feeling utterly betrayed.
“Don’t give me that look, Son. Lyrielle told me the very first night she was here that she wanted to find a position.
And you, yourself, told me she’d been looking for positions in the village.
She wants to support herself and earn her own way, and you certainly weren’t in any hurry to help her, so I did. ”
I turned away from her, my teeth clenched as I sucked in a breath. She wasn’t wrong, but she wasn’t right either.
“Lyrielle is a lovely girl,” she said from behind me, “but she’s in no position to take on the role of your wife.”
I turned back to argue with her, but she cut me off.
“And that must be the goal now,” she said in a tone that brooked no argument. “Unless Caelmir returns with a cure, the way forward will include you taking on the crown, and when that happens, your first priority will be to find a worthy woman to sit by your side.”
“That doesn’t mean it has to be a princess.” I didn’t know why I was arguing. I’d already decided to stop spending time with Lyri, but this felt wrong.
“You’re right, but if you’re thinking of Lyrielle, consider this.
” She paused just long enough to ensure she had my full attention.
“You said yourself that she’s had little exposure to the outside world.
It would be cruel to throw her into the pressures of ruling a kingdom she knows almost nothing about.
You can barely handle it; how would you expect her to? ”
It was like she’d sunk a knife into my side and then turned it.
She was practically calling me incompetent.
Even worse, she was right about Lyri. As much as I hated the idea of Lyri being gone, it was better—necessary even.
I had no right to ask her to be with me, and not because ruling would overwhelm her, but because she deserved more than to be used like a healing balm for a broken king.
I took a calming breath before I spoke. “I know you’re right.
I know I’m not good for her. I just…care about her.
” I wanted to say more, to justify my objections more, but the truth was that my heart was screaming at me to bring her back, but my mind knew I couldn’t.
I picked at my food as my mind churned with this sharp change.
I hated not having her here. And she hadn’t even spoken to me before she took the position.
Then again, perhaps my mother hadn’t given her a choice.
Did she think I wanted her gone? My heart sank at the thought.
Of course she did. I couldn’t let her think that her leaving meant nothing to me.
My head reminded me that I should leave her alone. She didn’t need me being overprotective or inserting myself into her life. But my heart knew I had to at least say goodbye, or good luck, or something. We were friends. And friends did not part without saying something to one another.
So I left the dining hall and went down to the servants’ wing. I was making my way to the sewing room when I saw her ahead of me.
“Lyri!” I called as I jogged to catch up with her.
She turned, and a look of pain shot across her face when she saw me, but it was quickly gone, replaced by a carefully blank expression. She sank into a deferential curtsey, which I did not like at all, with a sedate “Your Highness.”
She seemed hollowed out, and I hated it. I missed the girl who had danced with me in the sand. “I…are you well?”
Her brow pulled in. “Well enough.”
I nodded. That was good. “My mother told me that you’ve found a position.”
“I have, yes.”
Why was she responding so simply, so coldly? I studied her face and was not happy with the tension around her eyes and the way the corners of her mouth pulled down. “Are you certain you are well?”
“Why would I not be?” she asked without a hint of a smile.
“I don’t know, you just seem…sad.”
She pressed her lips together and her chin lifted in defiance. “And why would I be sad? Perhaps because you asked your mother to get rid of me?”
I sucked in a breath of horror. I’d been right to worry, then. “I never—”
“Or because I am now sewing ceremonial clothing for you to entertain a princess?” Her brow was raised high and I could see how carefully she was controlling her features.
I wanted to whip myself until I bled. How could I have been so oblivious as to not realize what this situation would look like to her?
My arms ached to pull her in while my lips begged me to tell her how much I wanted her, but my own words echoed through my head.
I needed her. I needed her because she fixed me, but she deserved so much more than to be used.
“There’s no reason that should upset me, correct?” she asked, her tone acidic. “Because you and I were only ever friends. Right?”
No. The biggest no I’d ever felt, and yet I didn’t say it, because the massiveness of that no was further proof that I shouldn’t pull her back into my orbit.
“I…” I had to say something, and I had to do what was best for her.
So even though it felt like tearing out my own lungs to say it, I did.
“My life is not my own, so as much as I’ve enjoyed our time together, it’s probably a good thing that you’ve found an occupation, because—”
“You have a princess to court,” she finished for me.
“That’s not it.” I wanted to say so much more, but I couldn’t.
Her eyes were pinched as she studied me, as if waiting for me to explain myself, to take away the pain I had caused.
But if I said any more, I’d no doubt blurt out my need for her, and she—compassionate creature that she was—would want to help.
So I said nothing more, and finally, she shook her head.
“If you’ll excuse me, Your Highness.” She sank into a dull curtsey and walked away.
Not chasing after her was physically painful.
I could have told her. I could have confessed that I was doing this for her, that I was trying to right a wrong.
I could have told her how selfish I’d been since the moment I’d found her.
And I almost had. But I knew how much she resented those who had used her for her healing power, so why would she hate me any less for using her in other ways?
I was appalled with myself for it, and I was certain it would have torn her apart to know I was no better than that worthless friend who’d brought her books only when he needed healing.
So I let her go. Even though everything in my body ached to keep her close, ease her hurt, and let her ease my own disquiet that was piling up inside of me, I let her go.
LYRIELLE
I was scaling a stone wall. Again.
This time though, it wasn’t so high, and I didn’t have my hair to contend with.
I’d decided that it didn’t matter that Tavric had pushed me aside.
In fact, it was probably better, because part of me knew that if he had realized I could heal his father, I wouldn’t have been escorted to the servants’ wing.
If he knew I could heal his father, Tavric would have kept me close, and I hated knowing that I would have let him.
I would have been happy to be nothing but a friend just for the chance to stay with him, and it would have chipped away at me, bit by bit.
Instead, I knew two things. Tavric didn’t want me, and I still wanted to heal King Valtren.