Chapter fifteen
TAVRIC
I stood on the wharf, wearing only a sash across my shirt as a nod to formality.
I’d tried to don the full ceremonial garb my mother had suggested, but after I’d practically ripped my jacket seams when the fit had felt too restricting, my mother had conceded that the sash over my usual shirt would be enough.
“It may even put her at ease about her own appearance after traveling a long way,” she’d said.
I doubted that. It was my experience that ocean travel did not prevent royalty from showing up looking their very best, but it was kind of her to try to calm my nerves.
She’d seen me unraveling over the last two days.
Absorbed in my own feelings as I was, I couldn’t tell whether she was looking forward to the princess’s visit or not.
Diplomatically, I knew that it was a boon. But the worried looks my mother continued to shoot me spoke of her uncertainty.
So I stood on the wharf, my hands calmly clasped in front of me, my face carefully arranged to hide my disquiet as Her Highness’s ship approached.
“I am sorry about this, Tav,” Dorian said.
“Not now.” I couldn’t make him feel better about this debacle. Not right now. Not when my family was counting on me to represent the crown.
The ship moved ever so slowly into the dock, sailors throwing out lines that were caught by the marine crew. After several more minutes, it had been secured and the gangplank extended.
An official came off the boat first, looking very proud of himself, and gave me a deep bow when he stepped onto the wharf.
“Prince Tavric, thank you for your hospitality and welcoming us to your shores. May I present Her Highness, Princess Saria of Ravencairn.”
He stepped aside and swept into another bow as he gestured toward the ship.
Princess Saria appeared at the top of the plank looking sure and regal as she descended the plank with the kind of grace only achievable when it’s been bred into a person. She was lovely and dignified, but I could not escape the feeling that she was intruding where she was not welcome.
The pressure and expectation of the moment made my fists clench, and I could not help but long for Lyri’s calming voice and touch. Why must I dread one female while craving another?
Princess Saria stopped just in front of me, and I gave a deep bow as she sank into a curtsey.
“Princess Saria,“ I said, holding out my hand so that she could lay her fingers gently in mine. “It is a pleasure to welcome you to Islewyn. Peace and safety be upon you as you rest on our shores.”
“My kingdom’s greetings to you, Prince Tavric. And thank you for the invitation.” Her smile implied more than I was comfortable with.
“Yes, my brother speaks very highly of you. I’m certain he could not resist the opportunity to extend his time with you.”
Her smile dimmed a bit and I chastised myself.
It had been reflexive, the need to correct her and be sure she knew it was not my invitation, but I should have left it alone.
No matter how many times my mind churned over the situation, I could not deny that I needed help.
My father was dying, and if I had any hope of ruling effectively, I needed to have a companion at my side who could not only take some of the burden, but also be a calming influence on me.
If I let Saria in, would she be able to settle me the way Lyri could?
I had to hope so, even if it felt like I was ripping out my own heart by considering it.
The princess and I made our way, slowly and grandly, to the waiting carriage, conversing as we walked.
“This is such a lovely place. I can hardly believe I haven’t had an opportunity to visit before now.”
“I’m certain your duties keep you busy enough at home.”
“Yes, of course, but this—” she said as I handed her up into the carriage. She waited for me to sit across from her before she continued, “This is part of my duties too. Making important diplomatic relationships…”
I knew her meaning, but didn’t respond to it directly. I could only give a barely polite smile before turning to look out the window as we both smiled and waved to those we passed while we made our way to the castle.
LYRIELLE
We were making mourning clothing for the queen.
I’d never even heard of mourning clothes until this morning, when the head seamstress informed me that we’d be making some.
Word of the king’s illness had finally spread, and the entire castle felt different.
There was a melancholy and uncertainty that permeated the walls and tapestries, whispering its way through halls and towers.
No one said anything out loud, though. Everyone still spoke of King Valtren’s strength and claimed a miracle would surely happen.
Yet, I was sewing all-black clothing for the queen.
I couldn’t imagine the pain that Tavric was feeling.
I knew he’d put his last hope in his brother and would be gutted by disappointment.
If only I could tell him that everything would be fine.
If only I could heal the king right now, all at once.
If I could have done it while letting only Tavric know about my gift, I might have gone through with it, but I simply did not trust anyone else enough to take that chance, especially when no one seemed to trust me.
I had hoped that, by joining the staff, I might find acceptance and companionship, but I hadn’t.
The time I’d spent as a guest to the royal family had made me an object of ridicule and mistrust. The girls whose room I shared didn’t speak to me, and hardly even looked at me.
If it weren’t for my determination to heal the king, I would have been sorely tempted to again seek work in the village.
That night, I left my room again and slipped through the darkness, just like I had the past three nights.
Getting into the king’s chamber was easy, almost too easy, but I was glad for the luck.
I was considering healing him a little more than usual, but I had only just started when a noise in the hallway forced me to retreat.
As I climbed back over the balcony, it was curious to note that though his illness was being kept at bay, and even improving bit by bit, the kingdom now believed his death was inevitable.
While Caelmir’s quest had given everyone hope, his failure was like a death knell.
It was astounding what the absence of hope did to people.
I scaled down the side of the castle until my bare feet hit the soil and I turned to my right.
“Good evening, Lyrielle.”
I nearly screamed, but clamped my mouth shut and held my breath instead, searching the darkness for the owner of the voice.
It took several moments, but I recognized the man standing casually with his hands behind his back as Harlan. That was a small relief. At least it was not a guard. “Harlan,” I breathed out.
“Care to tell me what you are doing here?”
“I…”
“Because if I were suspicious by nature, and I saw a young foreigner scaling down the wall, having obviously come from the chamber of our very sick king…I might think she had something to do with his ill health.”
I shook my head as my heart beat frantically.
There was no good ending to this scenario.
I couldn’t tell him the truth of what I’d done, and there was no lie I could come up with that would justify my actions.
“I would never hurt the king.” My voice trembled.
“And you know very well that he was ill long before I arrived.”
He gave a sarcastic lift of his brow. “Oh, well, if you say so.”
I wanted to run, but I knew that one shout from him would bring guards in seconds. “Take me to the prince,” I blurted in desperation. “He’ll understand.” He was the only one who would understand, and the only one who might keep my secret.
“I will be the judge of that. Tell me what you were doing.”
“I’m sorry, I can only tell the prince.”
He was silent for several heartbeats, and all I could do was hope that he would take me to Tavric. I could tell Tav the truth. He would understand. He would even be happy.
“As I understand it,” Harlan said with a lift of his brow, “the prince no longer wishes to indulge in your company.”
Those words were like a dull knife scraping at my heart, but I swallowed down my hurt. “He will want to hear me out, I promise.” My hands had started to shake along with my voice.
“Hmm.” He mused over my words for so long that I feared my heart would stop from the stress of its pounding. Finally, he said, “Follow me.”
My breath whooshed out in relief, and I did as he asked, trailing after him on bare feet as he silently traversed the grounds and then used a key to open a door with which I was unfamiliar.
He didn’t have a light with him and he lit no lantern or candle, relying only on the sparse and dim flames of the torches that lined the walls.
I expected he would take me to the prince’s chamber, wherever that was, but instead we went to the library.
Perhaps Tavric was up late, working there; it was not unusual for him to linger in the library for hours into the night.
But when we reached the back corner where Tavric had once shown me a stack of books, and where I had confessed the truth about my gift, it was dark.
Harlan lit two lamps that were standing by, and in the flickering light, it was clear that no one else was there.
“Where is Tavric?” I asked.
He looked at me with a knowing raise of his brow. “Tavric, is it?”
I would have been embarrassed if I weren’t terrified. “The prince.”
“I know who you meant, Your Highness.”
My chin pulled back in confusion and I turned to look behind me, thinking perhaps Tavric was there, but there was still no one.
I turned back to Harlan, whose eyes were steadily fixed on me. “Who are you talking to?”
“You.”
“Then why did you say Your Highness?”
He suddenly stepped close to me and I flinched away from him, but he only reached out and tapped the medallion that hung around my neck.