Her humming was unobscured by rain the next morning. I was enjoying the sound until it occurred to me that the storm was finally over, which meant my knight would be buried today. And I would be taking her to the Hill of Remembrance with me this afternoon. I was looking forward to it - and dreading it.
Why did I have to make this harder on myself?
“Good morning, Prince Chevalier!” she called at nine o’clock.
I groaned, pulling the blankets tighter around me. Her voice was even more cheerful than normal. She’d be smiling more, too. This was a bad idea.
“It’s a beautiful day today, your highness. It would be a shame to sleep through it,” she said. “The storm left quite a mess. The street sweepers and the gardeners have been busy with cleanup this morning.”
If only I could resist her voice. I pushed back the covers and found that I was in for more trouble than I’d expected. She was wearing a spring uniform again, short sleeves, skirt cut off at the knees. It really wasn’t that much skin exposed, but far too much for me. I let my eyes wander across her delicate frame; the sunlight reflecting off of her silky black ponytail as it fell down her back, her bare, slender arms, no longer marred by bruises, the curve of her hips, her shapely legs. And she was still talking, her soft voice completely unaware of the chaos she was causing within me.
“I suppose you’ll want to run your errand today. Maybe I should be more cautious, but I’m looking forward to it. It’ll be nice to go outside for a change.” She turned around to put my clothes on the bench, and her green eyes met mine and widened as a faint blush colored her cheeks. “Here are your clothes,” she said, quickly looking down as she set the clothes on the bench in a neat pile. “I’ll be back with your breakfast in a moment.”
That was foolish of me. She was so beautiful, so close, and so impossibly out of reach. I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, gripping tightly to the mattress on either side of me. What was wrong with me? And now, she’d caught me staring at her, no better than Jin or Nokto. There was no excuse, no explanation I could give her for that, nothing to disguise the way I’d been looking at her. I needed to get myself under control, stop this nonsense.
But I was still sitting there when she returned with my breakfast, no closer to a resolution than when she left.
“I’ll need a bouquet made up before we leave,” I said coolly, standing up and heading toward the bathroom.
“Any particular arrangement, your highness?”
“Something suitable for a grave.”
“What time shall I have them ready, your highness?”
“Right away. We’ll go after breakfast.”
“Then I’ll be back soon, your highness.”
Time for another cold bath. I didn’t linger, though. As much as I needed to minimize my time with her, the memorial service would take place in the morning, which meant we wouldn’t be alone on the Hill of Remembrance if we went now. It would be easier to manage myself that way. Hopefully. I bathed and dressed quickly, before she returned, and I was about to take my seat at the desk when the bright sunshine beckoned me toward the window.
It really was a beautiful day. There were still some blossoms on the bushes and vines down below, survivors of the passionate storm, but they didn’t catch my eye. It was Ivetta, standing on the cobblestone path with one of the gardeners, who drew my attention. She turned and looked up at me, and for a moment, I thought she’d caught me again. But the sunlight that tricked me into staring at her also saved me via a glare on the windows, making her squint and shade her eyes. I forced myself to turn away. Breakfast. I needed to eat breakfast quickly, so we could go as soon as she arrived. I couldn’t handle being alone with her in my room right now.
I could barely handle looking at her through a window.
She returned with the bouquet just as I finished eating. “Here, your highness,” she said, offering me the flowers and reaching for the dishes. “I’ll just get these put away and be back in a moment.”
“Leave that,” I said, ignoring the flowers and brushing past her toward the door. “Come.”
I held the door open for her, careful not to look at her as she carried the bouquet out into the hallway, and I didn’t check my strides for her benefit when I started walking. She was dangerous this morning, as she had been yesterday morning. I needed to come up with a solution for this problem I was having. There had to be a way for me to keep myself in check. Something less drastic than forbidding her entry to my room. That would solve one problem, but cause another. She could still be a target, and I couldn’t keep her safe if she wasn’t near me.
Though I was losing confidence in my ability to keep her safe from me.
I led her through the hallways, down the stairs, out the door, across the lawn, past the church, in silence. There, behind the church, neat rows of identical white monuments spaced evenly apart stretched over the hill and out of sight. In the distance, a small crowd gathered around a mound of newly dug earth. The memorial service was still in progress. We were too early. I didn’t want to be alone with her, but I also didn’t want this to take any longer than necessary, and now we had to wait before we could attend to our business.
She came up alongside me as I finally slowed my steps, her green eyes taking in the scenery with interest.
“Prince Chevalier, who were all these people?” she asked, studying the gravestones as we passed them.
“This is the Hill of Remembrance, where the knights of Rhodolite are buried. Most of these died in battle.”
She lifted her gaze from the closest gravestones to survey all the monuments in sight. I caught myself staring again, but for an entirely different reason than before. She seemed out of place here, surrounded by death. And there was a sadness in her eyes that I’d never seen before. But her voice remained calm as she continued her questions.
“Who’s being buried today, your highness?”
“A guard killed by the assassin,” I replied, coming to a stop a long way from the memorial service.
“Oh, I didn’t realize.” She looked up at me questioningly. “Don’t you want to attend the memorial service, Prince Chevalier?”
“No.”
She didn’t question me, but looked back down at the closest monument, her eyes tracing over the words. Names, dates, locations. Nothing in recent history that had come near to her. She’d never seen war before. If she’d lived just a few miles further west, just a few towns over, she would have ten years ago, on Bloodstained Rose Day.
I was twenty then. She was eight. I couldn’t forget the horrors of that day; she probably didn’t even remember it.
The wind picked up slightly, catching some loose hairs and sending them dancing across her face. She automatically reached up to brush them back out of her eyes. Her ponytail drifted across her back; the hem of her skirt fluttered around her knees.
Beautiful, but far too young, far too innocent.
I looked back up at her eyes and followed them to the memorial service. The crowd was dispersing.
“Only knights attend these services,” I explained quietly, more fully answering the question she’d asked earlier.
“You’ve been in a lot of battles, haven’t you, Prince Chevalier?” she asked, looking up at me.
“Yes.”
She looked away again, biting her lip. This was a part of my life that she didn’t - couldn’t - shouldn’t - understand. Her eyes were, understandably, troubled, but then she wrapped her free hand around the wrist that held the bouquet, and I knew there was more to her expression than thoughts of war and death.
How often did she think about that?
I scowled, immediately wanting to put my arms around her, pull her close, reassure her that it would never happen again - but I couldn't. My fists clenched in frustration. That was a part of her life that I didn’t understand, a war she’d been thrown into at far too young an age. At least I’d been able to put a stop to it. That provided a small measure of comfort, though stopping it wasn’t enough. I wanted her to forget it had ever happened.
The breeze picked up again, and she closed her eyes, leaning into the cool wind as it touched her cheeks. When she opened her eyes again, the cloud had passed from her eyes, and she released her wrist.
I shouldn’t have been surprised. She’d had to handle her problems on her own until now. If she hadn’t found a way of coping, she wouldn’t have made it this far.
“Let’s go,” I said quietly. The crowd had dissipated, and by the time we arrived at the fresh gravesite, we were alone. She read the name on the monument: Giles Christopher.
“I knew him,” she said softly. “He opened the front gate for me in the morning. I wondered where he’d gone.”
I’d suspected as much, though that hadn’t been my only reason for bringing her with me. She didn’t have to know him to appreciate this moment. I knelt in front of the grave, running a finger along the name engraved into the stone, engraving it into my memory. Then I stood up with finality.
“If you would like to pay your respects, do so. We’ve wasted enough time here.”
She ignored my harsh words and knelt, placing the flowers on the ground and closing her eyes briefly. Praying, most likely. She seemed the type.
“I’m ready, your highness,” she said quietly, standing back up.
I led her back to the palace in silence, and then we parted ways - me for my office, her to finish up in my room. She didn’t cry, at least, not while she was with me. But she was pensive and distant. I would have preferred more time to myself afterwards, but Clavis and Nokto were both waiting in my office.
“Hey, Chev, you’re late,” Clavis greeted me.
I didn’t respond as I took my seat at the desk.
“I saw him take Ivetta outside,” Nokto volunteered, seated in a corner with a single envelope in his hands.
“Well, now I’m curious,” Clavis said, grinning slyly.
“The knight who died was one of mine,” I said coolly.
“And?” Nokto asked, breaking the seal on the envelope. I didn’t answer immediately, so he prompted, “Why did you take Ivetta with you?”
I didn’t owe them any sort of explanation, but there was no harm in them knowing the simple truth. It would probably save much time, and headache, to just tell them.
“She knew him.”
Clavis frowned. “Is she okay?”
“Yes.”
Nokto pulled the letter out, skimming its contents. “This is about the goodwill gala,” he sighed. “Silvio may be staying for up to a week after.”
“And so will Keith and Gilbert,” I concluded.
Clavis clapped his hands, grinning broadly. “This promises to be very entertaining,” he said, chuckling.
Two thirty came, and I made my escape from the political realm to the library. Ivetta immediately left for the kitchens. I expected her to ask about our time on the Hill of Remembrance when she returned with my tea, and I was looking forward to our ensuing conversation.
But it would have to wait.
“Prince Chevalier, do you have anything else you need me to do right now?” she asked when she arrived, a few minutes later than usual.
I looked up at her curiously. “What do you want?”
“I owe a favor to another maid, and I’ve finally got an opportunity to repay her. I don’t think it will take more than an hour, your highness,” she said, her green eyes hopeful.
She always got so excited at the prospect of helping somebody else. I suppressed a smile and asked the important question.
“Where will you be?”
“Prince Leon’s office. It was a mess yesterday, but Theresa couldn’t really clean it up with five princes in the way, and it's in even more of a state, your highness.”
I smirked. “It’s always in a state. Don’t take more than an hour.”
“Yes, your highness,” she said, a bright smile coming to her face.
Leon’s office, Leon’s maid. She’d be safe. The hour limit was just so I knew when to start worrying. And I had the name of the maid, too, just in case. Theresa. It sounded like she was a friend of Ivetta’s, but then, Ivetta was friendly with everybody. I took a sip of tea and returned my attention to the book in my hand.
She wasn’t gone a full hour, and she presented herself promptly upon her return. “I’m back, Prince Chevalier.”
I glanced up at her beaming face. “You seem to have enjoyed yourself,” I commented.
“Theresa’s a lot of fun to work with, your highness. Although I almost feel bad for leaving her alone with Prince Jin. Almost.”
I smirked. “And here I thought she was your friend.”
She shrugged. “She is, your highness, but she’s the one who sent me away early when he arrived. Do you need anything else from me right now?”
“Yes.”
She waited, but I didn’t say anything else. “What is it, your highness?”
I closed the book and propped my elbow up on the arm of the chair, resting my chin in my hand as I looked at her. “When are you going to ask me?”
She sighed, the smile fading from her lips as she closed the door behind her. “It’s a somber topic, your highness, so I didn’t want to bring it up yet, but if you insist - what benefit is it to you to visit a grave?”
A carefully worded question, meant to appeal to my way of thinking. She never disappointed me.
“The responsibility for every death in battle or in the line of duty lies squarely on the royal family’s shoulders. I memorize the names of all the knights who have proven their worth to me and to the kingdom with their final sacrifice,” I replied quietly.
“So that’s your way of mourning them, then?” she asked, her green eyes searching mine.
“No. It is pointless to mourn the dead. A knight knows the risks when he takes his oath to serve his country. I carry their names with me, so their legacy continues in my work to improve the kingdom.”
She was silent for a moment, thoughtful, and then she looked back at me. “Prince Chevalier, if you explain your intentions more often, I think you’ll find that people will like you better. I understand that there are some things best left unsaid, but it seems to me that a lot of the fear surrounding you is based on misperceptions and miscommunications.”
I smirked. “You’re lecturing me again.”
“My apologies, your highness,” she said, smiling shyly. “Just trying to be helpful.”
I knew I’d enjoy this conversation, and I didn’t want it to end. “Your turn.”
She sighed and leaned back against the door, wrapping a hand around her wrist as she considered her words. “This was my first time losing somebody I knew, but I guess it was just nice to say goodbye.” She shrugged. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with mourning, if that’s what a person needs to do to let go, but people can get stuck in it, too. We’re not meant to live in the past. There has to be a time to take the next step forward - carry on the legacy, if you will.” She met my eyes again. “But, as I said, I don’t have much experience with this sort of thing. I’m sure it’s different for everyone.”
Always intriguing; always captivating.
“You are a strange blend of innocence and maturity,” I said quietly.
She blushed. “If we’re taking turns, I believe you’re supposed to lecture me now, your highness.” She bit her lip. “And I just grew up too fast - or that’s what Mother says, anyway.”
“She’s right.”
Her green eyes were nervous, shy, unable to meet mine. “I should probably get back to work, Prince Chevalier. But thank you for allowing me to accompany you to the cemetery. I really appreciated that.”
“I thought you would,” I said, picking up my book again.
She had grown up too fast, seen far too much for a woman of only eighteen. But, somehow, she hadn’t experienced death or loss until now. I’d seen the sadness in her eyes when she saw the name on the gravestone, the way her soft lips had trembled slightly when she knelt silently in front of it. Her mother’s passing was going to hit her hard - very hard. I’d thought before that her mother needed to hurry up and die so Ivetta could move here where she would be safe, but now, I dreaded the day that would occur. A day that was fast approaching.39Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSOTogjcRHY
