Chapter 393: Beyond Caution

Chapter 392: Beyond Caution

Lyria’s POV

"P-pardon?"

Duke Thorncrest smiled faintly, his gaze steady upon me.

"What separates cautiousness from fear, Your Highness?"

I considered the question for a moment.

"Fear is an i-immediate reaction," I said slowly. "Cautiousness is m-more akin t-to p-planning."

He inclined his head.

"A reasonable distinction. Yet, would you maintain that the two are entirely separate?"

I frowned at that.

"From w-what I know," I said, "I d-doubt cautiousness c-could be s-so. After all, the t-two may go h-hand in hand. The fear of s-something occurring m-may make one c-cautious. Hence, they t-try to prevent it if it is n-not favourable."

He nodded again, his expression thoughtful.

"Precisely. Fear may be the cause, whilst caution is the conduct that follows it."

I listened carefully.

"Yet that presents us with another difficulty," he continued. "If fear may produce caution, then how are we to determine whether a person is exercising sound judgement or merely permitting fear to govern his decisions?"

"And what if a person is too cautious?" he asked at length. "Does that not suggest fear?"

"If a p-person is overly c-cautious," I said slowly, "then yes, it d-does relate to f-fear."

"And would you say that such fear is necessarily unreasonable?"

"N-not necessarily."

"Indeed."

He folded his hands before him.

"Fear has its uses. A man who feels no fear at all is not necessarily courageous. He may simply be incapable of appreciating the danger before him. Courage, after all, has little meaning where there is nothing to overcome. But there is a point at which caution ceases to protect a person and begins to confine him."

Duke Thorncrest’s expression remained composed.

"Consider, if you will, what the world might resemble had every person before us chosen safety whenever uncertainty presented itself. How many discoveries would never have been made? How many inventions would have remained nothing more than an idea because their creators were unwilling to risk failure?"

"Every advancement carries some degree of uncertainty. A scholar proposes what has not yet been proven. A physician attempts a treatment whose outcome cannot be guaranteed. An inventor constructs something that may very well fail upon its first attempt." His mouth curved faintly. "I imagine the first gentleman who thought it sensible to place wheels beneath a carriage was regarded by someone as a fool."

A small smile touched my lips as he continued.

"Yet had he been sufficiently concerned with the possibility of ridicule, we might still be carrying our luggage upon our backs."

I laughed softly.

His eyes brightened for a moment, pleased that he had managed to draw the sound from me, before his expression returned to seriousness.

"The point is not that one ought to abandon caution," he said. "That would be equally foolish. Rather, one must know when caution has fulfilled its purpose."

"How does one become a good leader if they are forever scared and overly cautious?" he asked. "How does one plan to change things if they fear the outcome already, when they have not yet tried?"

He paused, letting the question settle.

"When is cautiousness meant to be taken, and when is it meant to not be taken? When does fear override cautiousness? And when does cautiousness contain fear?"

I absorbed his questions.

He was asking me directly, and I knew, deep down, that his words carried more weight than the surface of the conversation.

He was not merely asking about caution.

He was asking about me.

The truth was, I was scared.

And perhaps I was being overly cautious.

I looked down at the cat resting peacefully in my arms.

There had been a time when I had acted without considering every consequence.

Now, every decision appeared to carry a price.

Duke Thorncrest studied me for a moment before speaking again.

"Do you remember," he asked, "that not only the suitors are in a competition?"

I looked at him.

"M-my competition is n-not really a c-competition, t-though, is it?"

It was no new fact that Jacinta was the moon of the empire. She was already acknowledged after all.

He shook his head.

"It may not be to you. But it could be to others."

His words were quiet, but there was no uncertainty in them.

He leaned back in his chair.

"I liked what you did that day at the arena," he said.

I shook my head.

"I w-was careless."

"I quite disagree with that," he said. "Though if you say it was careless, then perhaps you have your reasons."

His tone held no mockery.

He seemed genuinely interested in how I had judged my own actions.

"What I was trying to say is that I liked what you did. You acted when there was danger before you. You did not stand aside merely because you could not predict precisely what would follow."

I looked down at the cat in my arms.

"You threw caution to the wind."

I remained quiet.

"I want you to be as bold as you were that day," he continued. "Sometimes, throw caution to the wind. I can show you what I mean, if you would let me."

I frowned.

"You are s-speaking quite c-confusingly," I said. "I d-do not understand."

His smile deepened.

"Then I shall endeavour to be clearer, though I cannot promise that clarity is among my more distinguished talents."

I gave him a doubtful look and he shrugged in reply.

"One must preserve some mystery. It would be terribly unfortunate if I became entirely predictable."

I almost smiled.

Then his expression softened.

"I want you to breathe, Your Highness. I understand your need for caution. Indeed, it would be unbecoming of me if I encouraged you to disregard danger altogether."

He paused.

"But there is a difference between recognising danger and allowing the possibility of danger to determine every choice you make. You need not cease being cautious. You need only learn that caution is a servant, not a sovereign."

His words settled over me.

"Besides," he added, "you are happier when you smile. And I know where you smile brightly."

I tilted my head that frown still plastered on my face.

"I d-do not understand."

He stretched his arms.

"You will understand soon," he said. "I will come by midnight. And you should be disguised."

My eyes widened.

"At m-midnight?"

"Yes."

He spoke with such composure that one might have thought he had merely announced the hour at which dinner would be served.

I opened my mouth to question him further, but before I could do so, he lowered his arms.

His hand accidentally knocked one of the books from the reading table.

The book fell onto the floor with a quiet thump.

Duke Thorncrest paused.

I watched as he bent to pick it up.

He glanced at the cover.

"I did not know you read books like this, Your Highness."

I did not understand what he meant by that.

"My m-maid brought it to m-me," I said. "For educational p-purposes."

He gave me a slow smirk.

"Educational purposes..."