Chapter 411: A Resolve and A Visitor

Chapter 410: A Resolve and A Visitor

Lyria’s POV

The next morning, I woke with a resolve I had not felt in some considerable time.

Matters were clearer now.

The night at the tavern had reminded me of what was truly worth the fighting. The people who looked upon me with hope in their eyes, who believed me something more than what the palace had laboured so diligently to make of me.

I had been lax.

I had been so occupied with resenting this position, with seeking some means of escape from it, that I had quite forgotten I still carried a purpose. A promise made to myself but a few weeks past.

Revenge.

Not merely for Patricia, but for my mother also. For all the royal family had subjected her to. For every hour of her suffering. For my maids, who had been ill-used by that same family. For everyone who had suffered beneath the hand of those with power. And, at the last, for myself.

I could not afford to be weak.

I could not afford indecision.

If the royal family wished to play their game with me, then I should play it also. But I should play it a great deal better.

My maids dressed me that morning in quiet, their hands gentle and their conversation light. I answered their questions absently, my thoughts occupied elsewhere.

The moment they had finished dressing me, I requested some time alone.

And when they had withdrawn, I did not reach for my novel, nor for my scrolls, nor for the books from which I had lately been studying.

I sat instead at the reading table and drew out paper and pen.

If I was to gain any measure of power, I required allies. True allies — people who might stand beside me not out of pity, nor mere curiosity, but out of purpose shared in earnest.

Elara had given me certain names some time before, and I daresay those bearing them might be persuaded to lend their aid, for I had considerable need of their influence.

I began composing a letter, intending it for each of them in turn, Duke Thorncrest among their number, he whom I had parted from but the night before. I endeavoured, with some effort, not to dwell upon the matter of the kiss and had not gotten far in my writing when a knock sounded at the door.

"What i-is it?" I called, a note of impatience entering my voice despite my best efforts to suppress it.

Brayden’s voice came through the wood.

"Your Highness, you have a visitor."

I frowned, for I had been expecting no one.

"D-do tell, who i-is it?"

There followed a brief pause, as though he weighed his words with some care.

"Duke Valenridge, Your Highness."

His voice carried an unmistakable note of discomfort in the saying of it.

My eyes lit at once upon hearing the name. What were the odds, I wondered, that one to whom I had only just intended a letter should present himself at my very door before I had thought to send it?

I set down my pen and rose without delay, crossing to the door before I had given myself leave to reconsider the wisdom of such haste. I opened it myself, quite disregarding Brayden’s look of alarm at finding I had done so.

Duke Valenridge stood in the corridor beyond, his hair catching the morning light through the tall windows.

"It is a fine morning, Your Highness," he said, with a small bow.

I tilted my head.

There was something in his appearance that gave me pause — a certain pallor about his countenance, faint shadows beneath his eyes.

If I was honest with myself, it was not entirely unfamiliar, for I had observed him thus once before, in the library, when he had fallen briefly asleep. And yet, as on that occasion, I found myself troubled on his account regardless.

"A-are you well, Your Grace?" I asked.

He blinked, evidently startled, then gave a low chuckle.

"I have only just remarked upon the fineness of the morning, Your Highness, and your reply is to enquire after my wellbeing?"

I felt my cheeks warm considerably.

"T-that is not w-what I intended."

"Then pray, what did you intend?"

"I m-meant—" I paused, searching for the proper phrasing. "Y-you appear... f-fatigued."

Something flickered across his eyes, though it was gone as quickly as it had come.

"I assure you, Your Highness, I am perfectly well. Though I confess I had some trouble sleeping."

I nodded slowly. So it was as before, then. I wondered whether he suffered from i...insomnia, the word, I thought, for one who found sleep difficult to come by at night.

"W-will you c-come in?" I asked him.

A small smile touched his lips.

"I should be glad to."

He stepped past the threshold, and Brayden closed the door behind him with rather more solemnity than the occasion seemed to warrant. I noted, too, the guard’s expression as he did so — a furrowed brow, the faintest frown — and resolved to enquire of him later what troubled him so.

Duke Valenridge had not taken a further step when a hissing sound arose from my new companion...the cat.

His gaze moved at once to the creature, which had installed itself upon my bed with its customary air of superiority. Its golden eyes fixed upon him, its fur bristled, its tail sweeping in warning.

"A cat, Your Highness?" he said, raising a single eyebrow.

"I a-acquired it recently," I said.

He inclined his head slowly, considering this, then approached, bending somewhat to study the creature, which continued to regard him with the most open hostility.

"And what, might I ask, is its name?"

I hesitated at that.

"U-um."

Duke Valenridge turned his gaze upon me.

"You have not named it, have you?"

"I h-have not, no," I said, a blush climbing my cheeks.

"How long has it been in your possession?"

"A f-few days only."

He straightened, regarding me with an expression I found difficult to interpret.

"And in all that time, Your Highness, it has not once occurred to you to bestow upon it a name?"

"It c-cares for no one but m-myself," I said. "A n-name seemed a matter of l-little consequence."

"Of little consequence."

"I-indeed."

He turned once more to the cat, which hissed at him a second time, with no less conviction than the first.

He smiled at this.

"I confess I quite understand its attachment to you," he said. "Though I find myself wondering, have you given any thought, Your Highness, to the matter of its sex?"

"I b-beg your pardon?" I asked, quite taken aback.

"Its sex, Your Highness. Surely you have ascertained whether the creature is a male or a female. It seems a rather essential detail, if one is to settle upon a suitable name."

I stared at him.

Then at the cat.

Then back at him once more.

"I—" I faltered. "I d-do not know."

Duke Valenridge regarded me for a long moment, his expression shifting gradually from amusement to something bordering on disbelief.

"You have kept the creature these several days, permitted it to sleep upon your very bed, and yet you have not thought to determine so fundamental a matter?"

"I h-have had o-other concerns to occupy me," I said, somewhat defensively.

He blinked once.

Then he began to laugh in earnest.

It was a low sound, and it filled the quiet of the chamber in a manner that loosened something within my chest, however much I might have wished to remain vexed with him.

"It i-is not amusing," I said, with a huff.

"On the contrary, Your Highness, it is a great deal amusing. How came it that you never once troubled yourself to determine its sex?"

"I-i-it is gender n-neutral," I said immediately.

He paused at that, and then, to my utmost surprise, he began laughing even more than before.