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I thought Leon was approachable, but I’d seen nothing like this. Regular people on the street—rich, poor, young, old, men, women—came right up to Clavis and struck up a conversation with him. Nobody seemed to care that he was a prince at all. Nobody used titles. The little boy with grubby hands who strung a convoluted sentence about nothing together while rolling a piece of candy around in his mouth; the wealthy business owner who had seen an increase in clientele since taking Clavis’ off-the-wall suggestion; the flirty barmaid who just had to tell the story about the time Clavis accidentally got drunk and then cried on her shoulder about his mean older brother; they all talked and laughed with him as if he was an old friend, and indeed, everybody we met seemed to have at least one personal story to tell involving him. He took a very personal, informal approach to government, it seemed, and people obviously liked that. Even if having him as a leader meant having to put up with crazy stunts every so often.
Then again, one of his crazy stunts was routinely sneaking across the border to smuggle Obsidianite refugees into Rhodolite. I’d heard about that when I was working as Chevalier's maid, but I hadn’t realized how frequently he did it. At least half of the people we met were former Obsidianites who he and Cyran helped escape miserable situations such as poverty, starvation, injustice, and slavery, and now, they were flourishing under his care. That made him worthy of at least their respect, if not overwhelming gratitude. Gratitude that outweighed an occasional flower bomb in a wedding.
Yes, he did that. The newlyweds were still gushing about it. After the initial fright and confusion from the explosion, everybody realized the bridegroom had rushed to shield his bride, and suddenly, his new in-laws’ opinion of him soared. And the honeymoon went well, too, judging by the bride’s growing belly.
It was a fun day.
Clavis had accounted for every minute, as promised, but I didn’t mind following him from store to store and house to house, learning more about this hidden side to him and meeting interesting people who treated me like I was just a normal person. And thanks to Theresa’s remark the previous night, I spotted the perfect gift for Chevalier almost immediately. It was a hand carved dove in a woodworking shop, made with such fine craftsmanship that it was almost lifelike, part of a collection of small, unpainted pieces waiting for the painter’s brush. The woodcarver offered to have it painted right away and then send it to the palace when it his painter finished, but I declined. It was just right the way it was. A pretty, common little wooden dove that flew into the palace one day and never left. If I was all Chevalier wanted, then this was perfect.
I couldn’t wait to give it to him. And I also didn’t see how he could possibly guess I’d picked this as his gift, which meant I really could surprise him.
“You can’t say a word about this to Chevalier,” I warned Theresa later that night. “Don’t even mention anything about the shops we visited, or wood, or—”
“Oh, sure, I’ll keep that in mind the next time I have a conversation with him,” she said, laughing, as she brushed past me on her way to our bathroom. “Which is never!”
“And no talking to anybody else about it, either,” I continued, raising my voice to be heard over the running water in the bathtub. “The slightest hint could give it away.”
She turned to face me and put her hands on my shoulders. “I get it, Ivetta,” she said, spinning me around and shoving me toward the door. “Go find your sappy book of poetry already and let me take a bath in peace.”
I felt the warmth of a shy blush rising in my cheeks. “It might not be poetry…”
“Yeah, right,” she said knowingly. “Because he isn’t just as much of a sentimental fool as you are. On second thought, you have way too much energy for someone who spent all day on your feet, getting dragged around by Clavis. Maybe you should take the hot bath and I should go find the book, otherwise you’ll be awa—”
“No! No,” I said quickly, turning to shake my head emphatically at her. “I want to look for it myself.”
She smirked and pushed the door shut. “If you’re not back in an hour or two," she said, pausing with the door half-cracked, "I’ll come get you.”
I smiled and darted across the bedroom to the book on the nightstand, opening it to the page with the note, although I didn't have to unfold the paper to reread the lines I’d already memorized. Immediately left of the entrance, third shelf from the floor, red binding, gold lettering. If it wasn’t a book of poetry, it was a romance novel. Or maybe a fairy tale. Something lighthearted Chevalier knew I would like, probably short enough for me to read before I returned to the palace the day after tomorrow. Of course, if Clavis had every minute of the next day planned out, too, I might have to borrow the book if I wanted to finish it.
I put the note in my pocket and went to the library with a spring in my step. Julius and Byron followed in silence, and after holding the door open for me, they took up their posts in the hallway, leaving me alone to browse, as usual. Just like at the palace. Although the LeLouch estate’s library wasn’t as big as the palace’s library, but it was sizable. I’d taken the time to appreciate the floor to ceiling shelves with balconies and ladders for ease of accessing the highest shelves during Clavis’ tour the previous day, and tonight, I didn’t spare any of it a glance. First shelf on the left, third up from the floor, red binding, gold lettering. I found it right away.
It was an unexpectedly hefty volume.
“Go Along With It,” I read aloud, pulling it free from its neighbors.
A strong, bold print spelled out the title without a touch of whimsy or a hint of curl in the lettering. This wasn’t a book of poetry, and when I opened the cover to the first page, the many rows of fine, closely spaced text introduced a lengthy, serious novel. And it wasn’t even a romance.
Why would Chevalier suggest I read this book?
“I thought I’d find you here.”
I jumped, startled, at the sound of Clavis’ voice. He was setting a tea tray on a coffee table behind me. When had he come in? Had I been that engrossed in finding the right book that I just hadn’t noticed him walk right past me?
Then again, it had happened before.
“Care to join me?” he asked.
“Sure.” I carried the book to the sofa, sitting beside him and examining it while he poured two cups of steaming tea. “Have you read this book? Chevalier thought I would like it.”
“Hm.” Clavis leaned toward me, studying the open page. “No, can’t say that I have. When did he tell you about it?”
“He wrote me a note before I left. We do that sometimes, especially since we keep missing each other when one of us leaves for a trip before the other one gets back.” I closed the book, setting it aside to take the proffered teacup. “Thank you. I might have to borrow it, if that’s okay. I don’t think I’ll have time to read much of it before we leave.”
“No problem,” he said in a bright, cheerful tone. “It’s not like I’ll miss it. So, are you enjoying yourself?”
I nodded. The first sip of tea confirmed he’d prepared it the way I liked it, with just the right amount of cream and sugar, and it wasn’t so hot I couldn’t drink it right away. “Yes, I am. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but you really love taking care of these people, don’t you? It’s nice to see you so strangely responsible and mature.”
He shrugged off the teasing compliment. “I’m just doing what I always set out to do: the opposite of Chev in every way possible.”
I smiled knowingly and shook my head. “Are you still doing that?”
He smirked and leaned in conspiratorially. “I had two goals with Chev,” he said, lowering his voice, as if we weren’t alone in the room. “Get him to admit that I was right and he was wrong, and kill him. I always thought the second would be easiest, but thanks to you, I got the first.” He pulled away again, sitting up straight and taking a small sip of his tea. “But old habits die hard.”
“Well, you have been living with that mindset since you were kids, and since you’re not trying to kill Chevalier anymore, I guess it’s okay for you to continue acting a little unusual,” I replied, smirking back at him. “Out of curiosity, what did he say you were right about?”
Clavis studied me for a moment. “He never told you?”
“You know Chevalier. If it isn’t relevant, he doesn’t talk about it. But you said it was thanks to me, so if it’s not a problem, I’d like to know.”
“That seems fair.” He set his teacup down and leaned back against the sofa, interlacing his fingers beyond his head and propping his feet up on the coffee table. “Well, I told you the fundamental difference in our beliefs was that I value the life of one person over all else, and he values the kingdom over any one person. Or any number of people. He never cared about people beyond their usefulness to him. I wanted to force him to recognize the value of a human life, and I never thought it would happen—until you came along.” He grinned widely. “Suddenly, he was doing things he never would have done to keep you safe when the old Chev would have left you out to dry. But he still wouldn’t admit it until we were on our way to rescue you from Flandre. He told me he didn’t care what the repercussions may be for Rhodolite as long as he could save you.”
A yawn interrupted the spreading warmth of happiness in my chest. I covered my mouth with my hand, wondering where that came from, and Clavis sat bolt upright, turning to face me fully with golden eyes as hard as burnished gold.
I glanced down at the teacup and back at him, a sinking feeling of realization accompanying the sudden drowsiness.
“And that’s why I know he’ll come for you now,” he said, taking the teacup from my hands before I dropped it.
I looked at the book again as weariness and weakness spread through my body. Go Along With It. The title was a message from Chevalier. If he knew about this, there was nothing to worry about, and I knew Clavis would never hurt me, regardless of whatever game he was playing. Right? But then again, I thought he'd finished playing games with me and Chevalier.
What was going on?
“Sorry, Ivetta,” Clavis murmured, scooping me up as he stood. “I’ll explain when you wake up, but I need to get as much of a head start as possible so your guards don’t cause a problem.”
A secret passage, I thought, fighting the heaviness of my eyelids. He wasn’t taking me toward the door I’d used. That was how he got in without me seeing him.
His explanation had better be good.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpEyn7vXxx1
