Chapter 14 Alfrie
Chapter fourteen
Alfrie
“Would it kill you to at least try to be nice to Zara?”
“It’s possible.” I’m half-kidding but Leer doesn’t seem to think it’s very amusing. I sigh. “Yes, I’ll try to be nice to the princess.”
He’s glimpsing at his reflection in the mirror in his rooms, smoothing his chocolate hair though it’s perfectly in place.
“Thank you. I need this marriage to work. What I don’t need is your judgmental attitude scaring her off.
” He smiles at himself in the glass, checking his teeth then spins to face me, holding up a finger.
“In fact, I think it would be a nice gesture if you go and apologize and offer to escort her to the dining room this evening.”
I scoff. “Leer—”
“Nope. You need to do this for me, Alfrie. She’ll be my wife, for gods sake. You’ll eventually have to warm up to her.” He wears a congenial smile, but his eyes are stern, and I know he’s prepared to use the whole ‘remember who you serve’ argument.
I don’t necessarily have to warm up to her.
Lanray is rather large and there are plenty of hiding places where I can go to avoid others if I choose.
But I absolutely remember my role in his court, so I meet his gaze and lower my chin.
“Okay. I’ll beg for her forgiveness and grovel at her feet.
” A smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth and Leer laughs.
“Perfect. Just don’t be too charming. I don’t want her to suddenly abandon her standards when she sees how aristocratic you look in that jacket.” He turns back to the mirror and continues to study his own appearance.
I pull on the lapels of my borrowed charcoal gray dinner coat.
It’s his. Obviously. “This old thing? Impossible.” I chuckle and give him a sort of salute as I turn for the door.
“Your bride awaits. I’ll bring her to you at once.
” I stride confidently out into the hallway, Leer’s laughter fading behind me.
My own smile fades and my face relaxes to its normal state: stony and cold and resigned.
I try to paste the smile back onto my lips again, trying out what it might feel like to be happy.
It falters. It’s uncomfortable and it feels forbidden.
Like I’m committing a crime against my family and all I’ve lost.
Zara’s bed chambers are on the opposite end of the palace, and my pace slows as I come to the bottom of the winding stone staircase leading up to the tower in the south wing.
I stop completely and prepare myself. My hands are slick, and I wipe a bead of sweat from my brow.
I’m not sure where the anxiety is coming from, but my heart thuds relentlessly in my chest as I climb the first couple steps.
I pause and take a deep breath in. I have no reason to be dreading this encounter, yet I am.
I move at a snail’s pace up and up and up until I’m nearly dizzy from the number of circles I’ve traveled in.
I finally make it to the top and take a moment to balance myself before making my way to her rooms. It’s easy to tell this wing is meant for a royal family’s private quarters.
It’s a thousand times more lavish than the main corridors leading up to the throne room and dining area.
The halls alone are large enough that a giant could stand completely erect, and I marvel at the sheer height of the walls.
Windows line the entirety of the space, and a deep red carpet runs the stone tile floor from one end to the other.
The curtains are a similar color of crimson and are crafted from a heavy velvet material.
Tables are spaced apart every ten feet or so, each adorned with either an elaborate floral arrangement or an intricately painted vase or other priceless piece of art.
It's peaceful up here. There are no servants and only a handful of guards wander about the area. Of course, Zara’s chamber is at the very end of the hall and after what feels like an eternity of walking, I find myself standing in front of two beautiful wooden doors with various floral designs and running wolves carved into them.
I start to knock, and the door opens slightly as if it wasn’t fully closed to begin with.
I wait a moment and am about to knock again when I hear a female’s voice from inside.
“You have to understand that not everyone has had the blessed life you do.”
I recognize the soft pitch of Zara’s ladies maid and find myself curious, so I step a touch closer and listen in. Though, admittedly, it’s much harder to hear as a human. There’s some shuffling, then I hear Zara.
“I know. But that doesn’t give him the right to be downright rude. Alfrie’s a jerk. I don’t care what happened to him. I’m shocked that Leer lets him talk to courtiers that way. I mean, he’s a physician? A squire? A nobody, really.”
My ears perk at the sound of my name. She thinks I’m a jerk. I guess I am. I swallow down an odd pang of shame.
Emlyn’s voice is louder, as if she’s moved closer to the door. “I think he’s adorable. Rudeness included. That golden blond hair. Gods, and those eyes! Like the brightest green palm leaves after a summer rain.” She sighs loudly.
My cheeks heat and I lean closer, strangely intrigued to hear what Zara’s reaction will be to that statement. Which makes no sense. She loathes me. And I’m not a huge fan of hers either, but I still flatten my ear to the door.
“He is…very good looking. But his attitude is ugly.”
I should really stop eavesdropping.
I lift my hand to knock once more and Zara adds, “He’s an ass. I can’t stand him. I just hope I can convince Leer to assign him somewhere far from the palace when we go to Lanray.”
My hand hovers midair, still processing her last comment as the door swings open.
Zara and Emlyn stare at me wide eyed, their mouths hanging open.
I lower my hand and rub the back of my neck.
“I came to apologize.” I dip my chin in a bow.
“And to escort you to dinner to meet Prince Leer.” My voice shakes, and I drop my gaze to her feet.
I can’t bring myself to look at her face.
“Um. Oh—I’m sorry, how long have you been standing here?” Zara’s slender arms fold over her chest.
“It’s hard to tell. I’m a nobody, after all, thus I’ve no need for a timepiece.
” I raise my head and meet her eye. I can’t tell if it’s embarrassment or defiance in her hazel irises as she lifts her chin slightly, readying for a fight.
She’s dressed in a floor length black gown that hugs her slim waist and accentuates her curves.
Leer’s right. She’s a vision. But also, a spoiled brat.
It’s a shame that her beauty is overshadowed by her inability to show respect for those beneath her.
I try to appease the situation and offer a slight bow. “Please allow me to offer my sincerest apologies for my behavior today. I’m a jerk.” I can’t help but add the last bit in.
Emlyn covers her mouth and coughs, concealing a chuckle.
Zara clicks her tongue, completely unamused by my snark. “I accept your apology.”
I wait for her to address the comment about getting rid of me, but she doesn’t. I extend my arm out to her. “May I escort you ladies to the dining room?”
They share a glance then Zara slides her arm through mine, motioning for Emlyn to do the same.
“I actually have a…another engagement.” Emlyn presses her lips together firmly, a small semblance of a smile poking through. She takes a step back and curtsies to the princess. “Enjoy.”
Redness creeps up Zara’s neck, leaving a trail of pink splotches over her chest as she stares helplessly at her friend. I ignore her obvious discomfort and lead us away from her rooms.
Her hand is warm as it rests on my forearm and we silently walk down the long corridor to the staircase. A thick and heavy tension blankets the hall and neither of us want to be in this moment together.
I wish I hadn’t heard them talking. I would like to think that Zara wishes she didn’t say all she did, but the confident and nonchalant way she carries herself tells me she might not care at all.
I steal a sideways glance at her. Her steely gaze is fixed straight ahead, her jaw set. Resolute. Her hazel eyes shift to the side and catch me peering over at her. I look away and whip my chin toward the window instead.
Zara stiffens, and I cast another sidelong glimpse at her. She’s full-on glaring at me now and unhooks her arm from mine, stopping in her tracks. I halt, my arm still held out in front of me like a fool.
She huffs, “What?”
“I’m sorry?”
“What are you staring at?” She doesn’t give me the chance to respond and opens her mouth to say something more, but closes it again. She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Listen, I know you heard everything I said back there.”
“I—”
She holds her hand up. “I’m not finished. I know what you must think of me, but I won’t apologize for my words. You are rude and patronizing and—”
“I know,” I interject.
She’s caught off guard. “What?”
“I know.”
Zara’s staunch expression falters for the first time that evening and her shoulders relax. “You know.”
“Yes, and as I said before, I’m sorry. I hope we can move forward so you don’t feel the need to…
how did you put it?” I put my hand to my chin.
“Assign me somewhere far away?” Her eyes flash with anger, nearly burning a hole right through me.
I raise my eyebrow and refuse to break eye contact, challenging her to a battle of wits.
She stares me down, accepting my provocation. Her hands perch on her hips and one corner of her mouth twitches as if she’s trying to contain a smirk. “Is this part of your grand apology?”
I shrug. “Did I hear you incorrectly?”
Her arms fling out to her sides. “Yes! No. I mean.” Her limbs fall to her sides in defeat. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“How did you mean it?” I step closer to her, crossing my arms and lifting my chin.