Chapter 435: The Watcher in the Window

Chapter 434: The Watcher in the Window

Thankfully, Lyria and her companions slipped within doors but a moment before the storm struck in full force.

Not a word passed between them. Only nods were exchanged — brief, silent acknowledgements that all had arrived safely, that all remained unharmed — and then they dispersed at once, each to his or her own chamber.

To linger in the corridors would have been folly indeed. To stand about conversing in low voices should only have increased the risk of discovery. The palace lay asleep, but sleep was by no means the same as safety, and the Crown maintained eyes in places few thought to look.

But what none among them knew was that a certain someone had observed their return.

A certain gentleman had been roused by the approach of the storm, the sound proving altogether too great for him to bear without wondering what, precisely, it might signify.

He moved to his window without a thought.

It was not a window he ordinarily made use of. Though it afforded a fine prospect of the beautiful garden, it looked also upon that portion of the grounds long since abandoned, and so he beheld the whole of the garden entire. The abandoned quarter had always vexed him somewhat. Though Princess Jacinta had assured him she had selected this particular chamber for him herself, that they might more easily continue their engagement, and so he had held his tongue upon the matter, however distasteful he found the view.

He approached this window, endeavouring to comprehend the source of the sound, when he perceived figures moving through the shadows below.

Corvin’s eyes narrowed.

There were several of them — cloaked in dark garments, their hoods drawn close, their forms little more than shadow against shadow. They moved with considerable haste.

Some among them bore others upon their persons.

This much Corvin could perceive plainly enough. One man carried a figure upon his shoulders. Another bore someone in his arms. A third had a person slung across his back.

The distance proved too great for him to distinguish any faces. The weather, too, was far too dark for such purpose.

Corvin’s brow furrowed. He wondered who these persons might be. Servants, perhaps — but then he paused. What if they were not servants at all? What if they were, in fact, suitor candidates?

He possessed nothing whatsoever to support such a claim, he knew that well enough. And yet, he stood by the thought. Everyone knew the rules of the competition, and should he seek to make these gentlemen out as candidates who had broken those very rules, why, he might rid himself of a measure of his competition entirely. Yes. That was precisely the course he should pursue.

Corvin permitted himself a small, satisfied smile. He could not help but admire his own cleverness in the matter. His father had been wrong in saying Corvin did not possess any brilliance for Corvin knew he did.

He could...all of a sudden, a gust of wind tore through the window, wrenching it open with such violence it startled him entirely. Hail came with it — small, hard pellets of ice striking him full in the face before he might so much as raise a hand against them.

"Confound this wretched weather!" he cursed, struggling to force the window closed once more.

The matter proved rather less simple than he had anticipated. The wind fought him at every turn, pressing back against the glass, howling through the gap with considerable force. He threw his own weight against it, his shoulder braced upon the frame, and at last, with one final and remarkably graceless effort, succeeded in forcing it shut.

He stood a moment, breathing hard, wiping the ice from his face. He had never before experienced hail, though this was scarcely his present concern. He had a matter of urgency to attend to, and so he straightened himself, took up a robe, and exited his chambers, making his way directly towards Princess Jacinta’s own.

He cared not that it was the middle of the night. He cared not that she should very likely be asleep, nor that this was scarcely the proper hour to receive a caller. He supposed she should answer to him regardless. They shared, after all, a particular understanding between them.

He took his guard along with him — the man half-asleep still, though he followed without complaint. They made their way through the corridors until at last they arrived before the Princess’s door.

The guards stationed outside gave Corvin a look.

"I have come to call upon Her Highness," Corvin announced. "You will admit me at once."

The guards exchanged a glance between themselves.

Then one turned to him and bowed, his armour shifting without a sound.

"Forgive me, my lord," he said, his voice respectful, "but the Princess is presently asleep, and must not be disturbed."

"This is a matter of the very utmost importance," Corvin said, his voice rising somewhat. "You will admit me directly."

The guards bowed once more.

"We cannot do so without Her Highness’s own leave, my lord. You must return at a more suitable hour, when Her Highness is able to receive callers properly."

Corvin’s eyes narrowed.

"Would you dare deny entry to a man of my standing?" he demanded. "Do you not know who I am?"

The second guard bowed in turn.

"Without instruction from Her Highness herself, we cannot open this door, my lord. You must return at a more appropriate hour."

Corvin scoffed audibly.

"These are matters of consequence," he said. "I cannot possibly return at some other time. The matter must be resolved this very instant. You need only inform Her Highness that I am present."

The guards made no further reply, for nothing he said appeared to reach them in the least.

Corvin stared at them.

"Are you quite well?" he demanded. "Can you not hear me?"

They gave no answer.

"I am addressing you both," he said, his voice rising further still. "You show a most shameful lack of respect. I am a Marquess. Should I come to call upon Her Highness, you ought to admit me to her chambers at once."

Still they ignored him entirely.

"Are you deaf?" Corvin demanded. "Is there some defect in your hearing? Is something amiss with the both of you? I have urgent matters to discuss—"

His voice had grown quite loud now, echoing through the corridor, carrying the length of the wing. Yet he cared nothing for this, for he was a Marquess, and would not be treated in such a fashion by mere common guards.

Just then, the door opened.

Jacinta stood within the doorway, a robe wrapped about her person, her hair loose and disordered from sleep. Her expression, however, betrayed no trace of drowsiness whatsoever. It was one of pure fury. She approached Corvin, whose eyes lit at once with pleasure, and who bowed low before her.

"Your High—"

He did not complete the address.

Jacinta’s hand cracked across his face with a force sufficient to send him staggering half a step backward. The sound echoed through the corridor, sharp and startling amidst the surrounding silence.

Corvin froze entirely.

He stared at her, his eyes wide with astonishment, his hand rising of its own accord to his stricken cheek.

Just then, Kyia and several of Jacinta’s maids emerged from the chambers adjoining her own, their faces bleary still with sleep, their eyes wide with confusion. They had been roused by the commotion, drawn from their beds by the sound of the Marquess’s raised voice.

Jacinta turned to one of the maids.

"Fetch me a cloth," she said.

The maid hastened at once to obey.

Corvin found his voice again, at last.

"Your Highness," he said, his voice thick with astonishment and something bordering upon bewilderment. "What—"

"You had best possess a sufficiently good reason," Jacinta said, "for raising such a disturbance at my very door, at such an hour as this."

Corvin stared at her.

He remained still in shock, still struggling to comprehend what had just occurred.

"I-I..." He paused, then shook his head. "I-I m-mean to say..."

Jacinta’s eyes narrowed further still.

"Do you now share the very same defect as that spawn?" she asked. "I heard you speaking with perfect eloquence not a moment past, my lord. You shall speak so now."

Corvin swallowed. He should sooner become a beggar in the streets than suffer comparison to that filth who presumed to call herself a princess.

"I observed something suspicious, Your Highness, and thought it proper to inform you of it at once," Corvin said finally.

Just then, the maid returned, bearing a cloth and a small basin.

Jacinta smiled with satisfaction. She watched as the maid poured water into the basin, then dipped her own hands within it, washing them slowly, with deliberate care. She dried them upon the cloth, and then turned her attention once more to Corvin.

"How suspicious, precisely?" she asked him.