confession. But what good was the truth? Were she to admit her lie and profess that Geo was, in fact, the only man she’d ever loved, it wouldn’t change a thing. Her fate had been sealed before the nation. If she succeeded in helping to rescue Prince Dmitri from Wintersea, then she was to wed the elder brother upon their return. Not fulfilling the mission…well, that wasn’t an option for her, or Geo.
Telling the truth would only inflict more damage. For then, she and Geo should have to dwell together in the castle, bypassing each other along the corridors, knowing full well of the other’s true affections. As such, it was likely they might tempt one another to bring scandal upon themselves and their families. Nay, she could not permit it, for the sake of all parties involved. Best to let matters remain as they were.
Their horse clopped through woodland groves and modest villages, and Lucie’s thoughts meandered to her mother. A single cameo portrait hung in the wainscoted upper halls of Backshore; it was the only likeness Lucie had. As a child, she would stare up at the rendering, wondering what her mother had been like. What would the baroness think now, she mused, of her only daughter engaged to marry the Crown Prince? It would be any mother’s—indeed, any girl’s—dream. But Lucie was in love with the wrong prince. Why couldn’t things be simpler for her?
She had lost track of the hours as she walked alongside Geo one afternoon, guiding the horse by its reins so that the travelers could stretch their legs. She didn’t realize she was fingering her pendant until the man pointed it out.
“Awfully fond of that thing, aren’t you?” His tone was curious, not scathing. He watched her from the corner of his eye, and Lucie lowered her hand. She thought of mentioning her mother, but couldn’t. She didn’t want to become sentimental in front of him.
“It was a gift from my grandmother,” she said. “I suppose I’m attached to it because it reminds me that I—” She stopped herself. Her conviction to do something heroic, in honor of her mother’s memory, was private. She had never shared the thought before, and wasn’t about to be laughed at.
“That you…?” he entreated.
“It’s sort of personal.”
“I see.” He shrugged. “A necklace is personal to you, while lying with a man, apparently, is not.”
Lucie stopped walking. “Excuse me?”
Geo appeared on the brink of saying more, but the look on her face silenced him.
“I am sick ,” her singed heart flapped, “of your disparaging comments, Your Highness. You understand very little about me.”
“Then explain yourself.” He halted as well, staring as though trying to see inside of her. When she failed to reply, he shook his head. “You perplex me, Lucie Camerlane,” he admitted. “I look at you and behold compassionate eyes, a demeanor of courage…yet, your words that night in the pavilion contradict it all.”
“Geo,” her voice was strained, “it isn’t what you think.”
“Never mind.” He tightened his grip on the horse’s reins, leading it onward again. “At this point, I should know better than to believe a word you say.”
EMPTINESS. IT WAS ALL HE knew. The tower was desolate, his stomach vacant, and his heart, a void. Perhaps it was shock or denial, but Dmitri could barely feel. He could only think.
His life was over, already? Why, there were still hundreds of books he’d yet to read, a whole library in his father’s castle, which Dmitri had planned to devour for years to come. And he’d not even the chance to write his own novel! That was another goal he’d never accomplish, he realized, his hollow heart severing in twain. He’d thought he had so much time to impart his stories to the world, to immortalize himself beyond his royal title. Alas, how naïve he’d been.
And he wouldn’t live to see his wedding day, either. He thought on the (admittedly obscure) young woman from his Reveal Banquet,
Telling the truth would only inflict more damage. For then, she and Geo should have to dwell together in the castle, bypassing each other along the corridors, knowing full well of the other’s true affections. As such, it was likely they might tempt one another to bring scandal upon themselves and their families. Nay, she could not permit it, for the sake of all parties involved. Best to let matters remain as they were.
Their horse clopped through woodland groves and modest villages, and Lucie’s thoughts meandered to her mother. A single cameo portrait hung in the wainscoted upper halls of Backshore; it was the only likeness Lucie had. As a child, she would stare up at the rendering, wondering what her mother had been like. What would the baroness think now, she mused, of her only daughter engaged to marry the Crown Prince? It would be any mother’s—indeed, any girl’s—dream. But Lucie was in love with the wrong prince. Why couldn’t things be simpler for her?
She had lost track of the hours as she walked alongside Geo one afternoon, guiding the horse by its reins so that the travelers could stretch their legs. She didn’t realize she was fingering her pendant until the man pointed it out.
“Awfully fond of that thing, aren’t you?” His tone was curious, not scathing. He watched her from the corner of his eye, and Lucie lowered her hand. She thought of mentioning her mother, but couldn’t. She didn’t want to become sentimental in front of him.
“It was a gift from my grandmother,” she said. “I suppose I’m attached to it because it reminds me that I—” She stopped herself. Her conviction to do something heroic, in honor of her mother’s memory, was private. She had never shared the thought before, and wasn’t about to be laughed at.
“That you…?” he entreated.
“It’s sort of personal.”
“I see.” He shrugged. “A necklace is personal to you, while lying with a man, apparently, is not.”
Lucie stopped walking. “Excuse me?”
Geo appeared on the brink of saying more, but the look on her face silenced him.
“I am sick ,” her singed heart flapped, “of your disparaging comments, Your Highness. You understand very little about me.”
“Then explain yourself.” He halted as well, staring as though trying to see inside of her. When she failed to reply, he shook his head. “You perplex me, Lucie Camerlane,” he admitted. “I look at you and behold compassionate eyes, a demeanor of courage…yet, your words that night in the pavilion contradict it all.”
“Geo,” her voice was strained, “it isn’t what you think.”
“Never mind.” He tightened his grip on the horse’s reins, leading it onward again. “At this point, I should know better than to believe a word you say.”
EMPTINESS. IT WAS ALL HE knew. The tower was desolate, his stomach vacant, and his heart, a void. Perhaps it was shock or denial, but Dmitri could barely feel. He could only think.
His life was over, already? Why, there were still hundreds of books he’d yet to read, a whole library in his father’s castle, which Dmitri had planned to devour for years to come. And he’d not even the chance to write his own novel! That was another goal he’d never accomplish, he realized, his hollow heart severing in twain. He’d thought he had so much time to impart his stories to the world, to immortalize himself beyond his royal title. Alas, how naïve he’d been.
And he wouldn’t live to see his wedding day, either. He thought on the (admittedly obscure) young woman from his Reveal Banquet,
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