Chapter 365: Pieces of Information

Chapter 364: Pieces of Information

Lucian paced his chambers.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

His boots struck the polished floor with a steady rhythm, each step betraying the agitation he was attempting, and failing, to suppress.

He stopped near the window.

Then turned.

Then began pacing again.

He knew Lyria had a spark in her.

He had known it from the very beginning from the first moment he had seen her when they were children.

But still...

Why had she chosen now?

Why had she decided to challenge Jacinta so openly, before half the kingdom?

He exhaled sharply.

He was almost certain the Queen would punish her.

He was equally certain Jacinta would make certain she suffered for it.

Mother and daughter had spent years reinforcing the same hierarchy. Lyria had stepped outside the role they had assigned her, and she had done so where everyone could see.

They would not simply overlook that.

They would not forgive her for making them appear foolish before the nobles.

And they certainly would not appreciate the fact that the commoners had witnessed a princess questioning the treatment they received.

Lucian stopped pacing.

He pressed his fingers against his temples.

"What have you gotten yourself into, Lyria?" he murmured.

His tone held no amusement.

Only concern.

He wondered what he could do to help her.

He had thought she would hide her spark for a little while longer. He had expected her to bide her time, to observe, to choose her battles carefully.

Instead, she had walked directly into one.

And, somehow, he suspected she had known precisely what she was doing.

That thought both worried and impressed him.

He turned towards the fireplace.

Just then, Oliver spoke.

His valet had been standing quietly near the door, as unobtrusive as ever. He had apparently been waiting for the appropriate moment to interrupt his master’s thoughts.

"The other matter has been confirmed, Your grace."

Lucian stopped.

He turned slowly.

His expression changed at once.

The agitation disappeared.

What replaced it was sharper.

More calculating.

"Yes," he said quietly. "I suspected as much from the beginning."

He walked towards the table.

"And now it is confirmed."

Oliver inclined his head.

"Precisely, my lord."

Lucian glanced towards the closed door.

Neither man spoke for several moments.

There was no need.

They both understood what the information meant.

And, more importantly, they understood what it might mean for the competition.

Lucian’s fingers tapped once against the table.

---

Benedict sat in his chambers, the fire crackling softly in the hearth.

Warm light spilled across the room, illuminating the polished furniture and the books arranged neatly upon the shelves.

He sat in a chair near the window, staring out without really seeing the grounds beyond.

He had received two rather useful pieces of information today.

The first was that he was hopelessly, irrevocably, and rather inconveniently in love with Princess Lyria.

He closed his eyes.

That was becoming difficult to deny.

He had known he was attracted to her.

He had known from the first moment he had seen her.

But today had settled the matter.

Watching her stand before Jacinta had done something to him.

She had not allowed herself to be silenced.

And then there had been the commoners.

She had not looked at them with disdain.

She had not treated them as though their presence were an inconvenience.

She had accepted their flowers.

Their little gifts.

Their awkward curtsies.

Their smiles.

She had laughed.

She had listened.

And somehow, that had made her even more beautiful in Benedict’s eyes.

He sighed.

This was becoming troublesome.

He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.

Perhaps he ought to write her a letter.

An apology, at the very least.

His last date had ended rather abruptly.

He had left her.

Fled, really.

There was no more dignified way to describe it.

He had been overwhelmed by his own thoughts and desires and had not known how to remain beside her without making a complete fool of himself.

He covered his face with one hand.

What lady would willingly entertain a gentleman’s confession that he had been plagued by thoughts he had no business entertaining?

Certainly not a lady he wished to impress.

"No," he muttered.

A letter was out of the question.

At least for now.

He would simply have to approach her differently during their next date.

He would speak to her properly.

He would apologise.

And, most importantly, he would behave like a gentleman.

He nodded to himself.

That seemed sensible.

Then his expression changed.

There was another piece of information.

One he had suspected for some time.

He looked towards the fire.

There were many intelligent men in the palace now.

Men who watched.

Men who calculated.

Men who noticed details others overlooked.

He could not possibly be the only one who had pieced it together.

He folded his hands together.

No.

He would not act yet.

Not until he knew more.

For now, observation would have to suffice.

---

Julian sat at his desk.

The room was quiet save for the faint crackling of the fire and the soft scratching of his pen against paper.

Then there came a knock.

"Enter."

The door opened.

His valet, Edmund, stepped inside.

He held an envelope.

"My lord."

Redwick looked up.

"What is it?"

"A letter."

Edmund crossed the room and placed it upon the desk.

Redwick’s eyes immediately settled upon the seal.

He recognised it.

His expression changed slightly then he broke the wax and unfolded the letter.

His eyes narrowed as he read what was written.

He read it again.

This time, more slowly.

Edmund watched him carefully.

The Baron’s expression had become increasingly grim.

"My lord?"

Julain did not answer.

He read the letter a third time.

Then he lowered it.

"There is an impostor among the suitor candidates."

Edmund’s eyes widened.

"An impostor, my lord?"

Redwick nodded slowly.

"Yes."

His fingers tightened around the letter.

"Someone who has no legitimate business being among us."