Chapter 474: The Highest Form of Mistake

Chapter 473: The Highest Form of Mistake

Evander had not been planned, nor had he arrived at any moment when one had particularly anticipated him. His family had never treated him as an unwanted child, and his people should have taken no small offence at the suggestion that their duke had been born a mistake, but their affection had done little to persuade him that his arrival had been anything other than an unexpected complication to lives already settled into their proper course.

He knew, of course, that this was no reasonable conclusion to draw from the mere circumstances of his birth. To know a thing, however, and to believe it, were not always one and the same, and Evander had never been especially successful in persuading himself of what he could not feel to be true in his own heart.

He had made other mistakes since that beginning — some of little consequence, and others which had remained with him long after the circumstances that produced them had passed into memory. He had endeavoured, in time, to become more deliberate in his conduct, to weigh the consequences of his actions before ever taking them. Such efforts had brought him a measure of success, though never nearly enough to satisfy him entirely.

For even now, when he had been quite certain of what he ought to do, he had contrived to make a thorough mess of the matter.

He had not intended to flee from Her Highness as though she had accused him of some dreadful impropriety. He had wished only that she should take better care of herself. But instead, he had let fall words he had never intended to speak at all — and that, he knew, had been a mistake.

Evander pressed his fingers briefly against the bridge of his nose, wishing the gesture might somehow relieve the ache that had troubled him since the previous evening. The dull throb had persisted through the whole of the day’s exertions, and the events within Jim’s house had done nothing whatsoever to improve it.

He had been upon his way to find her again.

He had taken an ointment from among his belongings, one he knew to be particularly useful in the healing of wounds, and had intended to leave it with her. It should have been a reasonable enough gesture, one easily enough explained as consideration between partners, nothing more. He might have offered his apology for having departed so abruptly, pressed the ointment into her hand, and allowed the conversation to proceed with whatever degree of awkwardness might prove unavoidable between them.

He had very nearly persuaded himself this was the sensible course, when he reached the corridor and beheld Lucian entering the room where Her Highness was lodged.

Evander stopped.

He ought to have known Lucian should wish to pay a visit to Her Highness, for he too had learnt of her injury. Evander wondered whether Alistair might not wish to do the very same, for Alistair likewise was aware of the matter.

And this was precisely why the sight gave him such pause.

What, he asked himself, was he about?

And how many further mistakes must he commit, before it should prove sufficient?

His growing affection for Her Highness was itself a mistake.

It was not the sort of mistake to be remedied by a courteous apology, nor by a better choice of words. It was one that had taken root quietly, beneath the teasing exchanges and the ease he had come to enjoy in her company, until he found himself attending to her welfare with an intensity no ordinary partnership could reasonably demand of him. He had permitted himself to grow attached to her, and worse still, he had begun to speak and act as though that attachment might be allowed to flourish.

He had not come to the palace for this. He had harboured no such intention from the very moment he had first beheld Her Highness. And deep within himself, he knew well enough that his affection must be brought to a halt. This he knew only too well.

He could not burden her with what he felt for her. It should be the wiser course to remember his proper place now, while the matter remained his alone to govern. For this — however greatly his heart might ache for it — could not be permitted.

He would continue instead to lend her his support. He would take whatever pleasure their interactions afforded him, he would watch over her as a partner ought, but he could not stand beside her in the manner his heart desired.

That must be sufficient.

He would be her partner, and nothing more besides.

Yes. That was the wiser course entirely.

Evander lowered his gaze to the ointment yet held in his hand. For a moment, he considered leaving it outside her door, where it might be discovered without requiring that he enter, or offer any explanation of himself. Yet even that struck him now as an unnecessary gesture. Lucian was with her, and perfectly capable of seeing that she received whatever assistance she had need of.

There remained no reason for Evander to linger.

He turned away and made his way back along the corridor, his steps measured despite the sudden, unwelcome pressure building behind his eyes. By the time he had reached the chamber assigned to him, the headache that had troubled him earlier had grown considerably sharper, spreading now from his temples towards the base of his skull, as though some fist had closed about the whole of his head.

He closed the door behind him and stood a moment in the quiet, the ointment still held within his hand, forgotten.

It was a foolish thing, to feel disappointment over a matter he had no proper right to desire in the first place. He knew that much well enough, and should remind himself of it as often as necessity required, until the feeling had diminished into something more manageable.

He had made a great many mistakes in the course of his life. He had come to terms, long since, with the knowledge that he should likely make a great many more before it was done. But this — to let his affections be known, to declare himself to her highness — this he could not permit himself. For it would be the highest form of mistake and having so little left to live for... he would rather avoid a mistake such as this.