Chapter sixteen
TAVRIC
The applause felt as if it were pounding against my skin as the musicians bowed and then exited. I breathed a little easier once the clapping had stopped.
“That was our last entertainment for the evening,” my mother said. “I do believe it’s time to retire.”
Relief coursed through me. Only a few more minutes, and I could close myself in my chambers and be free of the layers of noise and fabric.
“Already?” Princess Saria asked in dismay. “Can we not have another song? I’m enjoying myself immensely.”
My mother looked startled. Having anyone contradict her after she’d made a statement was near unfathomable for her, and she looked uncertain about what to do. “That might be permissible, if Tavric doesn’t mind.”
She turned the decision over to me, and I was simultaneously grateful and horrified. I could end this here and now…if only I could find my voice.
It had been three days of this. Three days of parading around the grounds and the village with the princess on my arm.
Three days of dinners and entertainment with what felt like half the kingdom present.
Too much cheer, too much ale, too many people, too much noise.
Too much, too much, too much. I’d been on the verge of breaking all day.
Several moments ticked by and I could feel sweat gathering at my brow.
Caelmir leaned close. “Are you well, Brother?” he asked quietly.
If only I could nod, or say yes, or respond in any way in the affirmative and have it not be a lie.
But I couldn’t. I couldn’t speak at all, knowing that if I did anything other than maintain the iron grip that I had on my chair and my composure, I’d go flying apart.
All of my effort was in controlling my expression as the seam at my shoulder started to rub my arm raw.
What could I do? I had to respond. I was the crown prince, and if I kept sitting here, silent, everyone would know how weak and unfit I was.
“On second thought,” my mother said, “I’m not up for a late night.
It’s best we all retire.” And with that, the queen turned and swept from the room, her power and authority written in each line of her gait as she left the grand hall.
It was a bit of a spectacle, and one I was incredibly grateful for, as it had shifted everyone’s attention away from me.
I braced myself to turn to Saria and bid her good night. It was the very least I could do. But when I turned in her direction, I found her already in conversation with Dorian.
Caelmir’s hand settled abruptly on my arm and I nearly jumped. “Let’s have a night cap, shall we?” he said in a jovial tone, urging me to my feet and then ushering me out of the hall.
I counted in my head. Five beats as I breathed in, five as I breathed out, forcing my mind on only that simple task until Caelmir pulled me into an empty chamber, just far enough away from the hall that the noise was barely discernible.
The moment the door was closed, I threw off his hand, then my shoulder cape, sash, and shirt, before pacing the room and shaking out my hands.
“Tav—”
“Quiet,” I snapped. “Just…quiet.” I put my palms over my ears and breathed deliberately, appreciating the quiet it provided. If only I had the silk coverlet from my room that I often used to wrap my body tightly. It was the fastest way for me to calm myself, even if I felt ridiculous doing it.
Well, it used to be the fastest. Lately, the quickest way had been Lyri.
After several minutes, I dropped my hands from my ears and then ran my hands through my hair, pulling on it as I tried to come back to my senses.
“I didn’t know it was like this.”
Caelmir’s words forced me to look at him. He stood by the door, wide-eyed and worried.
I cleared my throat, fighting down my embarrassment. “You’ve seen it before.” I’d been sensitive to too much since I was a child.
“Not like this,” he said with conviction. “How long has it been this bad?”
That was easy to answer. “Since Papa got sick. Since I started playing the role of king.” I swiped my shirt from off the floor, thinking I would put it back on, but the way the fabric scraped against my palms made me drop it again. I couldn’t put it back on yet.
He looked at me, clearly wanting to say something but at a loss.
I gave a shrug. “Why do you think I prefer a ship? The wind doesn’t clang. I never have to wear formal robes, and if I ever need complete silence and solitude, I can dive into the water.” I paced some more.
“What do you need?” he asked.
“Lyri.” I spoke before the thought had time to settle.
Caelmir pushed away from the wall. “I’ll go find her.”
“Don’t, Cael.” I put out a staying hand. “I didn’t mean it.”
His eyebrows pushed down to crowd his gaze. “But she could help.”
“I don’t want her help,” I insisted.
“You just said—”
“I can’t use her like medicine. Not to make you less worried, not to make me feel better. I won’t use her.” I turned and walked several steps away before turning back. “She’s not a tool.”
“That’s not what it would be.”
“I said no. I’ll be fine. I have to learn to deal with this on my own. Maybe…maybe Saria can help me when we marry. Maybe she could learn to.” My shoulders tensed and rolled at the thought.
If anything, my attempt at reassurance seemed to increase Caelmir’s worry. “Tav, you’ve been ten times worse since Saria came.”
“I’ll get used to it. I will. I just…need to get to know her. I need to be comfortable around her.”
There was a knock on the door that made me wince.
“Not now,” Caelmir called out.
“It’s us,” came Dorian’s voice through the door. “Let us in.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but Caelmir opened the door, yanked them inside, and closed it swiftly.
Kavian looked me over, his brow rising in derision. “Couldn’t keep your clothes on?”
“Shut your mouth, Kave.” Caelmir’s harsh demand surprised us all. As the youngest, he rarely tried to give orders. Kavian opened his mouth to retort, but Caelmir rolled over him. “Did you know it was this bad?”
He lifted one eyebrow. “What was this bad?”
Caelmir jammed a finger at me. “Him. He was falling apart in there. Did either of you notice?”
Kavian snorted. “It’s quite the burden, entertaining a beautiful woman.”
Caelmir shoved Kavian’s shoulder, his face so stormy that Kavian finally fell silent.
“You’d better shove that envy down into whatever deep, dark hole is inside you and start paying attention.
” Kavian stayed silent under the weight of Caelmir’s glare.
“He didn’t even notice she was pretty. He wasn’t entertaining anyone.
He was just out there trying to endure.”
It sounded so pathetic when he said it like that. “I’m fine,” I insisted, willing it to be true while also wanting to prevent a fight from breaking out between my brothers.
“See,” Kavian crowed. “He’s fine.”
“He’s not fine.” Dorian spoke up for the first time from where he leaned his back against the door.
Kavian looked over as if Dorian’s words were a sort of betrayal. “Come on, not you—”
“He’s not fine, Kave, and it’s time you opened your eyes enough to see it.”
I wanted to argue with them. Tell them to get out, to stop talking about me as if I weren’t there. I wanted to tell them they were overreacting.
Only they weren’t. I could feel the panic humming just under the surface, threatening to surge up and drown me. “There is a formal audience tomorrow. What am I going to do?”
They all looked at each other, each one at a loss for words. Finally, Kavian let out a low growl. “Maybe you should just ask the girl to marry you.” He tossed the words out and they crashed to the ground between us.
Some of my panic subsided, replaced instead by anger. “The girl?” I asked, danger threading through my tone.
“He means Lyri,” Dorian clarified, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I know who he means,” I snapped at Dorian, then turned my wrath on Kavian. “Leave her out of this.”
Kavian clearly wanted to argue, but Caelmir cut him off. “I’ve already gone down that road, Kave. Leave it alone.”
Shockingly, Kavian listened.
“I think you’re right, though,” Caelmir said to me as he arranged his face into an imitation of confidence. “I’m certain that if you give Saria a chance, she’ll be able to help. In the meantime, one of us can sit in on the formal audience tomorrow.”
“Not Kavian,” I insisted, unable to trust him to actually have my back.
“I’ll be there,” Caelmir said. “I’ll act as your ears like I used to.”
LYRIELLE
I’d fallen into a routine since the princess’s arrival.
I kept myself to the servants’ wing, going from my room to the kitchen, to the sewing room, and back again.
I didn’t attempt to walk the grounds or explore the garden since I was too afraid that I would catch a glimpse of Tavric and his guest. Or, even worse, that I would run into them.
So I kept my distance, but it was impossible not to overhear the chatter.
There had been banquets and horseback riding.
The princess and Tavric were constantly seen in company together, and everyone speculated that a betrothal would be announced soon.
It made sense, after all—or so they said.
If Tavric was going to be king, he needed a queen at his side.
Each bit of gossip made me die a little, as the gossamer dream of a joyful life slipped from my fingertips.
I did my best to keep my head down, work hard, and close my ears.
There was still a large part of me that reveled in my circumstances, happy for work and freedom, but I missed Tavric and I was still horribly hurt by his sudden dismissal of me.
Another part of me was certain that at any moment, my new life would be stolen from me. My eyes darted to the doorway probably a thousand times, wondering if Harlan would show up again, wanting more information. Or wondering if guards would show up to escort me away because he’d shared my secret.
But it wasn’t Harlan who stepped into the chaotic, cramped sewing room. It was Prince Dorian.