Chapter 416: On Strength and Weakness

Chapter 415: On Strength and Weakness

Lyria’s POV

"You must also understand that no two situations are ever precisely alike. An answer that serves you admirably in one set of circumstances may prove quite disastrous in another. You must learn to adapt, rather than to place your reliance upon what has served you before."

He leaned forward somewhat.

"Strength does not reside merely in the possession of an answer. It resides in understanding the situation well enough to determine which answer is best suited to it. There will be occasions upon which no perfect answer exists, only the least damaging of several imperfect ones. There will be other occasions upon which you must choose with haste, before the very opportunity to choose has vanished entirely. You must learn to assess and to judge with speed, whilst yet remaining clear-headed enough to distinguish the course of least risk from the course that merely feels the safest."

I held each word with care as he spoke, turning them over in my mind.

"You must learn, too, to recognise when you are being led," he continued. "When someone places a choice before you, ask yourself first who stands to benefit from your choosing it. When someone offers you assistance, ask what they expect in return. And when someone presents you with an enemy, ask yourself whether they have done so merely to direct your attention elsewhere."

"I u-understand," I said, with a nod. "And I am r-ready. You may b-begin the lessons p-properly now."

Duke Valenridge gave a single nod, then stopped and turned towards me sharply.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I s-said I am ready," I repeated. "You may b-begin."

"Why are you so excessively eager, Your Highness?" he asked me. "Have you no concern whatsoever for my own state? I am not ready."

I tilted my head, considering his words a moment, then shook it.

"I d-do not particularly concern myself w-with you, at this m-moment, no."

Duke Valenridge stared at me, his mouth falling open.

I realised then what I had just uttered, and my eyes went wide.

"I d-did not m-mean... that is to s-say—"

His laughter stopped me entirely, and he pressed a hand to his mouth as though that might in any measure remedy the matter, which it did not.

I waited, my cheeks considerably warmer than I should have preferred.

When at last he had composed himself sufficiently to speak, he shook his head slowly.

"I had never supposed," he said, "that you were capable of remarks of that character."

"I-it was an a-accident," I said.

"It was," he agreed pleasantly. "And it was magnificent. I find I like it a very great deal."

He composed himself then, though the amusement lingered still upon his features, and settled once more into his chair.

"Very well," he said. "Since you are so thoroughly resolved to begin, and since my own readiness appears to be a matter of no particular consequence to you..."

"I d-did not mean..."

"I know." He smiled. "Tell me something, Your Highness. Upon your own terms, without reference to anything I have said, what do you believe strength to be? And what do you believe weakness to be?"

I looked down at my hands, folded in my lap, in silence.

"Weakness," I said at last, "is myself."

"There are people who d-depend upon me. Perhaps they o-ought not. Perhaps it is not e-entirely just, what they have laid upon m-my shoulders, and I m-must confess, I n-never asked for it. But it remains, r-regardless, and I c-cannot pretend o-otherwise."

"I m-may not be the Moon of this k-kingdom. But there are p-people who see me. People who see m-me for what I am, and not for what t-they wish to make of me." I paused before continuing. "People for whom I am something akin to h-hope. And I d-do not entirely know what is to be done w-with that, but I know I c-cannot forsake it."

"There are also p-people I wish to p-protect," I continued. "People who have s-suffered on account of w-hat surrounds me, or on account of what I h-have done, or f-failed to do."

I exhaled slowly.

"What I am trying to s-say is that weakness, to me, is indecision. It is r-reluctance where action is r-required. It is being u-nable to protect those worth p-protecting. Being u-nable to s-stand for what is right, for f-fearing the consequence so g-greatly that one does n-othing at all." I paused. "Being u-unable to speak, and to s-stand for oneself, w-without already i-imagining every manner of thing that might go w-wrong a-afterward."

I gave a soft laugh.

"I s-suppose my answer has a-also told y-you what I b-believe strength to be."

Duke Valenridge was silent a moment, and then, quite suddenly, he leaned forward in his chair.

His elbows came to rest upon his knees, his hands loosely clasped, and he regarded me with a directness that did not waver, those green eyes fixed steadily upon my own.

"I must confess I disagree with you," he said. "Upon certain points."

"Which p-points?" I asked, a frown upon my face.

He held my gaze steadily as he spoke.

"The woman before me now, is not weak."

I was about to argue this, but he spoke before I could.

"I do not say you are without weaknesses. Every soul possesses them, and I should do you a disservice were I to pretend otherwise. But to be weak, and to possess weaknesses, are not one and the same, Your Highness, and I find it a distinction of some considerable importance that you grasp it."

"You have endured what would have broken most persons entirely. You have continued forward without the resources, the knowledge, the standing, or the protection that most persons, in circumstances far gentler than your own, should have considered the very least required for their survival. You have done this largely without complaint, and largely without the comfort of any soul knowing the full weight of what you carried. That, Your Highness, is not weakness. That is strength in one of its less celebrated forms."

"Strength," he said, "takes a great many forms. Not all of them are readily to be recognised as such. Nor do all of them announce themselves."

He held my gaze a moment longer.

"The woman before me is strong," he said. "What I intend to teach you is only how to become the more so."