Chapter 103: Shadows Before the Ball
Chapter 102: Shadows Before the Ball
Lyria’s POV
After the luncheon, I slipped away from my hidden vantage as quietly as I had arrived. The weight of what I had witnessed lingered with me as I made my way back through the lesser-used corridors toward my room.
Lucian had surprised me, and that was the honest truth. He was less like the boy I remembered from the past and more like the man I believed he was trying to be—although trying would not be the right word, because he was becoming exactly who he was.
But even then, I could not dwell on it. I could not think about his words. I could not think about how he had changed. I could not think about any of that.
Charming as Lucian was proving to be, I could not afford to focus on him.
The next date would take place the following day, and after that would come the ball—the elimination ball, where any suitor who had failed to impress Jacinta would be sent back to his territory with whatever dignity he could salvage.
And perhaps it was because they had all left various impressions on me, but I could not imagine any of the five suitors I had recently encountered leaving.
I was particularly concerned for Duke Valenridge. His painting had been disrespectful, and the Queen was not one to let such things pass.
She hated disrespect. Yet the Duke did not seem to care about the competition itself. It was almost as though he had come for a vacation—a rather poor one at that.
I sighed. Try as I might not to think about him, I could not help it. Especially not after what he had done the previous day by the lake.
If he left, then I would have one less reason not to give up.
I shook my head and lightly slapped my cheeks.
"Focus, Lyria. The suitor candidates are not your concern. As charming as they are, you are naught but a shadow at this point," I murmured to myself.
I nodded and took a deep breath, steadying my thoughts. My hands moved to my stomach when I felt a faint ache.
I had eaten nothing all morning save for the remnants of the cherry pie Lucian had brought the previous night. It was a small comfort—sweet and familiar in a world that offered so few. I ate it slowly in the privacy of my chamber, savouring each bite as though it might steady me for the days ahead.
I made my way fully back to my chambers and finished the last piece. It tasted far better than the dried bread I usually ate.
That same night, when the palace had grown quiet and the corridors dim, I masked my scent with the herbs I kept hidden, slipped on my other mask—the plain one that allowed me to move as Iria rather than Lyria—and ventured into the city. The streets were cooler at this hour, the lanterns casting long shadows that felt almost welcoming. I purchased what herbs I could afford for my mother, bargaining with the apothecary in hushed tones. Every coin counted. Every leaf and root was a step closer to freedom.
Upon returning, I slipped into my mother’s chambers once more. The room was still and dim, the single lamp burning low. She lay unchanged, her breathing shallow but steady. I administered the herbs with careful hands, whispering promises I hoped she could hear in whatever dreams held her. Perhaps, after the ball, I would find time to slip out again and work a shift at the Tavern and Tide. The coin I earned there would help—not only for her illness, but for the sum we would need to leave this place forever.
The days leading to the ball passed in a strange, uneasy quiet. I did not run into any of the suitor candidates, which felt odd after the constant near encounters of the previous weeks. It was as though they had all suddenly become ghosts in the palace halls. I told myself it was a mercy, yet their absence left me unsettled. I had grown almost accustomed to their unexpected appearances.
The evening of the ball found me in Jacinta’s chambers, assisting with the final preparations, as was my duty. She stood before the tall mirror while maids fluttered around her like attentive birds, adjusting the folds of an exquisite gown of deep sapphire silk that caught the light with every movement. Her golden curls were arranged in an elaborate style, adorned with pearls and delicate sapphire pins. She looked every inch the Moon the empire believed her to be.
Our eyes met in the reflection. I bowed my head immediately, as propriety demanded.
Jacinta’s voice carried across the room, sweet yet edged with something sharper.
"You may do whatever you wish, Lyria," she said, her tone light but laced with disdain. "But at the end of the day, you will only ever be a shadow—one who stands behind while I take all the glory and am revered as the Moon of the empire. Like tonight, you will stand in the shadows, hiding, watching with envy."
In truth, I was not watching with envy. I intended only to endure the evening as best I could.
She turned slightly, regarding me directly now.
"Do you know why that is?" she asked.
I kept my gaze lowered, my hands folded neatly before me.
"Is it because of the sins of my mother, Your Highness?" I asked quietly.
Jacinta laughed, a bright, tinkling sound that filled the chamber.
"Oh, it is more than that," she said. "It is also because of your own sins. You have refused, time and again, to know your place. That is why I must teach you."
I said nothing, only nodded once in acknowledgment. There was no point in arguing. Words would only earn me further punishment.
Jacinta turned back to the mirror, admiring her reflection as Kyia stepped forward with a warm smile.
"You look exquisite, Your Highness," Kyia said, her voice filled with admiration. "All the suitor candidates will be utterly obsessed with you tonight."
Jacinta lifted her chin, satisfaction evident in every line of her posture.
"Of course they will," she replied.
I rolled my eyes internally, wishing for the night to be over already.
