17. Chapter 17
Chapter seventeen
TAVRIC
Numbness was what I wished for. If I could sit amongst all this commotion and feel numb, that would be ideal.
Instead, I was hyperaware of all the overlapping noises fighting for dominance, as well as the crush of the crowd that seemed to press ever closer.
Yet I couldn’t pay attention to any of that because if I didn’t listen to whatever petition or issue was being put forth, then I couldn’t respond, and if I didn’t respond, then this audience would go on forever with nothing accomplished.
Sweat beaded my forehead and both of my hands were gripping the arms of the elaborate wooden chair as I tried to focus my energy there.
The sleeves of my formal clothing draped dramatically over my hands and cascaded halfway to the floor.
The weight of my ornamental robe was stifling, and the way the chain around my neck made noise every time I moved felt like it was poking at the inside of my skull.
What would I do when I actually became king and I had to bear the actual weight of a crown on my head during these infernal forums?
Something would have to change. I couldn’t keep doing this over and over. But for today, I had to listen.
“This is the third time I have found Baron Teagly’s sheep grazing on my land.”
As Lord Hough presented his dispute, I was vaguely aware of the door directly to my right opening.
It must be another one of my brothers. Caelmir already sat to my left, but perhaps they thought my panic was showing through and they’d decided to double up.
It was a nice thought, but it also served to amplify the fact that they needed me to do better and I didn’t know how.
No doubt whoever it was would take the seat to my right.
There were several seats on either side of me, but I usually only allowed the seat to my left to be occupied by one of my brothers.
Having more than one person whispering in my ear was detrimental.
I took a controlled breath, hoping my internal havoc was masked enough that it would not be seen by those in attendance—or make me look incompetent to the entire kingdom.
A murmur rippled through the audience, and I couldn’t figure out why until the swish of skirts approached and I looked over to see Princess Saria walking calmly toward me.
She was graceful, and only a little haughty.
I willed myself to be relieved at the sight of her as she walked over, offered me a small smile, stepped up onto the dais, and sank elegantly into the seat beside me, looking for all the world as though it were nothing out of the ordinary for her to take a seat at my side during a formal audience.
This was good. This was precisely what needed to happen.
Caelmir had been at my side, acting as my second set of ears.
If the noise ever got to be too much and I was unable to focus on whomever was presenting their case, Caelmir could lean in and give me an idea of what to say.
It worked, but only if we used it sparingly.
I couldn’t be seen whispering to my brother every time I needed to speak.
But if Princess Saria could sit at my side as my equal…
I hated the idea, even though I knew it was the most practical.
She seemed completely at ease sitting beside me, and I tried to let some of my own tension go. But when she reached over to lay her hand on my arm, no warmth seeped into me. My fingers gripped the armrest even tighter and my breath felt trapped in my lungs.
I could see from my peripheral vision that while she sat close, she was facing forward, maintaining her royal bearing and decorum while I debated whether or not I could extricate my arm from her touch without causing a scene.
LYRIELLE
Prince Dorian led me to a spot in the grand hall near the front of the assembly, close to the raised dais, but off to the side. The moment my eyes landed on Tavric’s face, my lungs heaved in relief. At least for a moment.
In the next moment, my gaze landed on the delicate feminine hand resting on Tavric’s arm, and I wanted to sink into the earth and let it suffocate me.
Was this a cruel joke? Did Dorian wish for me to see this cozy scene with Tavric and the princess sitting close, side by side, and looking for all the world as though they were already the king and queen of the land?
Perhaps it was his way of showing me that any ludicrous dream I might have of a future with Tavric was not only impractical, but already burned to ashes.
I turned away. “I can’t do this,” I muttered and tried to walk toward the archway we’d just come through, but the prince caught my arm.
“Please,” he hissed. “He needs you.”
I whipped around to glare at him, my face strained in agony. “He doesn’t need me. He has her.” The perfect match, born and bred for this duty and this world.
“Watch. Just watch him,” he begged. “The longer she sits beside him, the worse it’s getting. Look.”
I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to see any more. But I did it anyway.
TAVRIC
Lyri was here. I wasn’t certain when Dorian brought her in, but the moment I caught sight of her, there was an easing in my chest. The contrast between my response to her and my response to Princess Saria was astounding, and it made me dismiss any idea of pursuing a strategic match with the princess.
Lyri looked sad and uncertain, but she was still here. I didn’t deserve her kindness. I didn’t deserve her at all. What had possessed her to come here when I had so coldly dismissed her?
As the afternoon progressed, I was able to look to Lyri once in a while, and each time, her bolstering smile reduced my stress just enough to keep me from fleeing the room. She allowed me to survive.
When it was all over, I was incredibly grateful that the king was expected to leave before anyone else, and that I had a private door right off the dais that exited the grand hall. I needed to get out of this room, take off this suffocating costume, and just be alone.
Well, maybe not alone. What I really wanted was for Lyri to be with me, maybe even with her arms wrapped around me, but that wasn’t an option.
I reminded myself a hundred times that she wasn’t a tool for me to use.
Just because she could fix me didn’t mean it was acceptable for me to ask it.
She’d done enough. The only reason I’d made it through that audience while knowing my father was dying a few floors away was because she’d been there.
I briskly walked from the dais with my head held high, resisting the urge to look back over my shoulder for one more look at her.
I heard Princess Saria call my name, but I continued through the doors and into the safety of the corridor beyond.
Once I was out of the grand hall, I dropped my regal posture, ready to tear the oppressive costume from my body.
Unfortunately, Saria followed. “Prince Tavric, do slow down and speak to me,” she called out in exasperation, clearly impatient and expecting me to obey.
I turned on her, and the cheeky smile that had adorned her face quickly slipped when she saw my expression. “No, Princess, I will not. You know nothing about who I am or what I need in this moment, so I must ask you to depart and not harass me any longer.”
I didn’t bother to wait for a response, but turned and hurried toward my chambers, taking off chains and rings and handing them off to my valet as my feet carried me at a frenzied pace through the corridors.
Stephan was used to it. He knew how uncomfortable all the accoutrements made me, and we only made it to the antechamber of my rooms before he made quick work of helping me out of the heavy ornamental robes, leaving me in my trousers and linen shirt.
“Now go,” I said, breathing heavily. I just needed some time in the quiet of my own room to get my panic and discomfort under control.
The door shut behind Stephan, and I sat on the closest chair and dug my palms into the tops of my thighs, then pushed them toward my knees. The exertion on my hands and the pressure on my legs gave the panic somewhere to go, and the almost painful sensation gave me something physical to focus on.
A knock sounded on my door.
“Away!” I shouted.
The door opened anyway.
I got up, ready to scream at whomever dared to enter my room when I’d clearly refused them entrance, but when Lyri was pushed abruptly through the doorway, the anger died in my chest.
She stumbled a bit as the door closed after her. She looked at me, then at the door, then back at me.
Just seeing her was a relief, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted so much more from her than just a glance at her beautiful face or a few minutes of her reassuring presence. Finally, I found my voice. “What are you doing here?”
“Prince Dorian thinks I can help.”
I shook my head but couldn’t form the words to deny it. I was pressing my hands together, my breathing barely controlled. Lyri was too observant, so telling her that I was fine would be a waste and a lie.
She hesitated near the door for only a few moments before her mouth set in a decisive line. Then she was across the room in a flash, and instead of stopping in front of me, she practically crashed into me, wrapping her arms around my torso and squeezing while I latched onto her in return.
Her entire body was pressed to mine, and something about the pressure grounded me.
“Breathe with me,” she whispered, and I obeyed.
For such a small woman, her strength was impressive and profound.
In less time than it had ever taken before, my breathing and my heart slowed, and I regained my composure.
I could have pulled back, but once the discomfort was gone, I realized just how good it felt to be wrapped around Lyri.
Not because she was helping me, but because she was precious to me.