Chapter 14 Alfrie #2
She’s completely frazzled and chews on her bottom lip, drawing my attention to her perfect mouth.
Heat rushes to my face and I avert my gaze to the ceiling, stuffing my hands in my pockets.
I search for anything else to focus on other than the natural pout of her full lips, and I rock back on my heels as I wait for her to answer my question.
“I was frustrated and the comment sort of slipped. It was simply emotion getting the better of me, that’s all.
” All of the stubbornness and airs of conceit that were present on her face mere moments ago have vanished.
She stares down at her hands and fidgets with the golden pendant that hangs around her neck.
She looks so innocent, like a child who has just been scolded.
And she is a child. Perhaps a year or two younger than I, but I wager that she’s been sheltered since birth with no real life experiences outside of these walls and her own royal realities.
She wasn’t forced to grow up too soon like I was.
I push a hand through my hair. I shouldn’t have said anything. What I overheard was meant to be a private conversation between her and Emlyn. I was only supposed to apologize and deliver her to her prince in the dining room like the good lackey I am.
I force a tight smile and lift my arm, offering her a truce.
She sheepishly raises her gaze to meet mine and one corner of her mouth turns upward slightly. She takes my offering, allowing me to lead her to dinner.
“Alfrie?” Her voice is small and meek, and I wonder if I imagined the sound. “I’m sorry about your home.”
I stop short.
She untangles her arm from mine. “I spoke to my father.” She chews on her bottom lip and a tear slides down her beautiful face. “I’m so, so sorry.”
I’m frozen in place, then suddenly remember how to speak.
“I, uh, no. Please don’t say that. It wasn’t your fault.
Nor was it his.” I tentatively lift my thumb and wipe the tear from her cheek.
She stiffens and her cheeks flush. I swallow and shove my hands into my pockets.
“I shouldn’t have said anything today. It’s on me. Please, don’t cry.”
She nods her head and swipes her fingertips under her eyes, a laugh escaping those perfect lips. “I’m a mess.” She looks up at me, her irises shining like pure gold from the moisture.
I forget how to breathe. “No. You’re not.” I force myself not to stare and hold my arm out, “Shall we?”.
We say nothing more to one another and I do my duty, dropping her off to the capable hands of Leer in the dining hall.
Zara takes his arm, and he walks her to the table.
She turns her chin slightly, glancing back at me over her shoulder.
Her eyes sparkle as she meets my gaze, with a softness and curiosity that wasn’t there a moment ago.
My feet are like lead, heavy and glued to the spot outside the door, as I watch her until she takes her seat.
Leer notices that I’m still here, and he narrows his eyes at me dithering awkwardly in the doorway. Zara gazes at him, her eyes lighting up. She already adores Leer, yet I can’t seem to turn away from her and something deep in my chest stings.
“Alfrie?” Leer gapes at me. “You can go.” He waves his hand dismissively.
I blink, coming to my senses and nod, backing away from the dining room.
Leer flashes a tight smile and gives me his thanks, but I’m not invited to join the Royal family to eat.
Not that I would have wanted to. King Hardin hasn’t arrived yet and I escape down the hall as quickly as possible to avoid being tasked with anything else for the evening.
As I turn the corner, I hear Hardin's deep voice coming from a few feet behind me. I duck into a dimly lit alcove near a servant entrance, so he won’t see me.
His tone is harried and hushed, a vast difference from his usual commanding and booming voice.
I can’t see who he's speaking with, but the sound is soft and muffled. I peek my head around the stone wall of the alcove. He’s whispering closely with the Queen consort of Masseda, Elara.
She’s scowling at him and his eyes dart around the hall as if he’s nervous someone might see them together.
Strange. Elara lowers her voice, and my human ears can’t make out what she’s saying. But whatever it is, she’s angry, and Hardin appears…scared? I press my body flush against the wall so I’m out of sight. I shouldn’t listen. I just got out of an awkward situation that started with eavesdropping.
And yet.
I dare to look around the corner again.
Elara folds her arms over one another, and she scrutinizes Hardin, one eyebrow arched. He appears to be pleading with her about something. She looks annoyed with what he’s saying to her, her lips pursed and her gaze glassy, and pulls out a small hand mirror, sneering at her reflection.
Screw it. I close my eyes and concentrate on my given form. My ears elongate coming to a point at the tips and, in an instant, the faint mumbles coming from Elara and Hardin are clear as day.
“I’m tired of waiting, Hardin. This should’ve been taken care of days ago.”
“There hasn’t exactly been an opportunity to—”
Elara cuts him off. “Make an opportunity. We just need to force his hand.”
What are they talking about? The wedding?
The panic and irritation in their voices make me think it’s something a bit more important than the nuptials of two heirs.
Aggravation shrouds Hardin’s features, and I’ve never seen him look so unglued.
Curious, I angle my body a little more to get a better view.
“I’ll get it done as soon as I can.” Hardin shifts his weight from foot to foot.
“Do you have a plan or idea or something?”
I slide to the edge of the alcove. I’ve edged too far. My knee knocks into a vase near the alcove’s entrance, and it topples to the floor with a crash.
“Yes, there are—” Hardin stops talking as soon as the vase hits the marble.
I retreat into the alcove as far as I can go and try to open a small door hidden in the shadow that I assume is a servant’s pass, but it’s locked.
Damn. Two sets of footsteps approach. I’m so fucked. Think, Alfrie. I close my eyes and, in a flash, I’m on all fours on the floor. I curl my new tail around my body and hover in the dark corner.
Hardin’s face is distorted through my feline vision and his voice is muffled, but I think he says something about a cat.
Elara hovers next to him, eyeing me. She purses her lips, and it morphs into a smirk as she stares down at me.
Hardin says something else to her, and they walk away, but Elara looks back over her shoulder and I swear that she can see right through me.