Chapter 464: What He Assumed of Her

Chapter 463: What He Assumed of Her

Lyria’s POV

Jim’s eyes narrowed.

"I beg yer pardon," he said slowly, "but what d’ye mean by that?"

"You s-should know," I said. "After all, h-honesty and hostility are t-two different things, are they n-not?"

"Ain’t my fault the people o’ this town don’t care fer folk like yerself."

"Do you a-actually know me?" I asked. "Do you p-perhaps know people of m-my kind?"

Jim stared at me, his eyes cold.

"Ye’re a princess."

"Yes," I said. "That i-is true. But I shall a-ask again — what d-do you know of me?"

He did not answer.

He only continued to stare, his jaw set, his gaze unyielding, finally, I drew a slow breath.

"One of our a-agreements," I said, "was that you w-would have an honest c-conversation with me. Was it n-not?"

Jim nodded, though the motion was reluctant.

"Then p-perhaps I ought to b-begin by speaking honestly m-myself."

I paused, gathering my thoughts.

"Yes, my n-name is Lyria. Yes, I am a p-princess. But I am i-illegitimate."

"I was b-born of a maid," I continued, "whom I h-hold in the highest r-regard. But a m-maid nonetheless. And I am r-recognised as a princess o-only because of c-circumstances t-that occurred but s-some weeks past."

"For the g-greater part of m-my life," I said softly, "I was b-but a shadow. Over a d-decade I spent as a s-shadow, unrecognised by a-anyone. It has been but t-three weeks, perhaps, since I b-became known to the w-world as a p-princess."

A faint smile touched my face, one without warmth, and then I added:

"A M-moon candidate, s-supposedly. And even at t-that, I was s-scorned by m-most. I still am, if I am to b-be honest."

Jim’s frown deepened, but he said nothing, at least for the present.

"Contrary to w-what you and your p-people believe," I said, "I t-too dislike nobles."

"Ye expect me ter believe that?" he grumbled.

I gave a faint laugh.

"No," I admitted. "I d-do not expect you to b-believe it. Not when I m-move amongst them. Not when I am s-surrounded by them."

I turned and chose to fix my gaze upon the walls rather than upon Jim.

"Though I m-must admit," I continued, "it was n-never my intention. But I d-do know, from experience n-now, that not all n-nobles are so wicked as the w-world makes them out to be. Some c-care for children who are s-sick. Some care for c-commoners branded unjustly as c-criminals. Some c-care for those r-rogues who must f-flee to various territories merely to s-survive."

"It is n-not much," I said. "But some of them d-do it."

"As for hostility against n-nobles," I added, "perhaps I hold it to the s-same e-xtent as the p-people of Gallowshill. And t-that is why I wish to u-understand you. What h-have the nobles done to you? What h-have you suffered?"

Jim’s expression hardened at my words, and I observed his fist clench.

"Look around the town," he said. "Ye’ll know well enough."

"That i-is not enough," I said, with a shake of my head, returning my gaze to him. "Not for the k-kind of hostility you harbour. I t-too must confess that I h-hold considerable hostility t-toward nobles and p-perhaps toward those at the v-very top."

I smiled bitterly, though Jim’s eyes remained cold.

"Ye cannot ’ave suffered ter our extent," he said coldly.

"D’ye know what it means ter go days wivout food? Ter watch children die from illnesses what could ’ave been avoided, if they’d only ’ad the care? Ter beg every night, fer days on end, in the rain, just ter be seen? Ter beg nobles fer even seeds ter plant?" he asked me, his voice rising with each question, and I did not doubt the emotion and hurt these questions carried within them.

"D’ye know what it feels like ter be abused by the very nobles what oughter be carin’ fer ye? Ter ’ave all the money ye earn took from ye, an’ be given nothin’ in return? Ter ’ave ’ouses crumble over yer ’ead an’ be ignored when ye call fer ’elp? Ter share ’ouses wiv strangers, gatherin’ round what little ’earth ye ’ave when the cold comes? Ter not even ’ave clean water ter drink, while a canal runs right through yer own town?"

"Ter make ground fit fer plantin’ when it weren’t never fit ter begin wiv?" he asked, his hand striking repeatedly against the couch. "Ter be abused continuous by nobles — abused in ways I’ll not speak of afore a lady such as yerself — an’ then cast aside when them same nobles grow tired, claimin’ ter ’ave served yer use? Ter be ignored fer speakin’ up at all?"

"D’ye know what it feels like ter labour every single bloody day just ter stay alive? Ter fight just ter exist?" he asked, though by now he had lost all calm and was shouting.

"D’ye know what life is, fer commoners like us, wiv nowhere ter go ’cept ’ere?" he screamed at me.

Brayden moved then, and I did not doubt it was meant to shield me from Jim, who was by now ruled entirely by his own emotion. But I shook my head.

He frowned, but I shook my head once more, which made him still, though his gaze remained fixed upon Jim, lest the man attempt to harm me — though I doubted it, for he was lamenting, nothing more.

"Ye ’ad it better," Jim said finally. "An’ ye shouldn’t be preachin’ ter me ’bout hostility. After all, yer people are all the same — whether they come inter the role by mistake, or was born inter it. Makes no difference ter us. Ye all do the same thing, an’ walk over the lot of us, fer we’re but slaves ter ye, Your Highness."

He breathed heavily as he finished, and silence descended upon us. There came, of a sudden, the smell of food upon the air, though it drifted from without, as did the only sound now to be heard, carried from the distance where the others remained.

I said nothing for a while, only staring at Jim, and then, at last, I spoke.

"Might I s-speak n-now?"