Chapter 126: The Corridor That Should Not Have Been Seen
Chapter 125: The Corridor That Should Not Have Been Seen
Lyria’s POV
He bowed deeply like I was deserving of such action.
"Princess Lyria," he said.
I blinked.
Once.
Then again.
It still did not sit right in my ears. Not because it was wrong, but because it was... unfamiliar. Like a name I had never been meant to hear directed at me.
It had only been... wait, it was not even a full day, and he was already referring to me as a princess. He was just that accepting of the fact that the King was my father?
I paused in shock. My lips seemed to have been sewn together at that point because—
Earl Hawthorne straightened, then tilted his head slightly.
"Is something the matter, your highness?" he asked. "Have you perhaps not recovered from the ailment you suffered the last time myself and Duke Thorncrest spoke with you at the stables?"
I frowned immediately, failing to comprehend where this line of questioning was coming from.
"W-what?"
He gave a small pause, studying me in that quiet way people did when they were unsure whether to step closer or step back.
"You are not speaking," he said simply. "I thought perhaps you were still unwell."
I stared at him for a moment longer than necessary. I had faked that ailment; I thought it was quite obvious.
"Though honestly, it’s quite nice to hear that your voice has gone back to normal. I was quite scared that day that it would not return," he added.
It’s back to normal because I was faking whatever ailment I had told them that day. Again, how was it that he did not know? It was quite obvious that everything that day had been pretense. I was not even able to keep up the performance I had started.
I exhaled and then spoke up.
"I am not s-sick."
His shoulders relaxed at once, as though that alone had resolved something important.
"Oh, that’s good," he said, and there was genuine relief in it.
Then, almost as if it had only just occurred to him, he added, "I did not expect to encounter you here so suddenly, especially after last night’s events."
I nodded once.
"I came to collect something," I said.
His gaze dropped immediately.
To my hands.
To the cloths, the water, the simple cleaning supplies I had gathered.
His expression changed.
Faintly at first.
Then fully.
A crease forming between his brows.
"...Why are you carrying that?" he asked.
"I n-need it," I replied simply.
That answer did not seem to satisfy him in the slightest. I thought he was going to ask where the maids were and why I was not getting any support. Instead, without warning, he reached out and took everything from my hands.
I froze in shock.
For a moment I could only stare at him as if he had just done something deeply improper—which, by palace standards, he probably had.
"E-excuse me," I said at last, "y-you have no idea w-where I am going."
"I do not," he agreed easily.
"T-then you should not—"
"My sisters would be most displeased with me if I did not offer to help, your highness," he interrupted, as though that settled everything.
I blinked again.
"Your s-sisters are not in t-the palace."
"I am aware," he said. "Still. It feels wrong not to help."
He adjusted the items in his grip as though they weighed nothing.
"Now," he added, looking at me, "where are you going?"
I hesitated.
Then tried again, carefully.
"You d-do not n-need to assist me."
He simply stared back at me without a word, completely ignoring what I had just told him.
I exhaled slowly.
Because it was clear I was not winning this.
So I turned.
And began walking.
He followed.
We walked for a while; my new residence was not within close distance after all.
The palace shifted around us as we moved deeper into the less cared-for wings. The air grew colder. The stone less polished. The silence heavier.
Earl Hawthorne glanced around as we went.
"I had no idea such a section existed within the palace," he murmured.
"T-there is much you do not k-know about the palace, m-my lord," I replied without thinking.
He let out a short breath of amusement.
"I cannot argue with that," he said. Then added, more thoughtfully, "Still... one would expect even forgotten areas to be maintained."
I did not respond.
Because expectations meant very little here.
He continued anyway.
"In my family’s estate," he said, "there is a wing that was once called the haunted wing."
I glanced at him slightly.
"Called so by my younger sister," he added. "She insisted it was haunted when she was a child."
"And w-was it?" I asked before I could stop myself.
He smiled faintly.
"No," he said. "It was simply neglected. Dust, old drapes—one particularly dramatic curtain that would move whenever the wind passed through a broken pane."
I let out a small sound before I could help it.
His expression brightened slightly at that.
"When we restored it," he continued, "it became... quite lovely. One would never guess what it once was."
We walked on.
The corridor widened slightly ahead.
The air colder still, and then my steps slowed.
Earl Hawthorne noticed immediately.
"If the royal family invested even half the effort required," he said quietly, "this entire place would be—"
I stopped, making him stop speaking too, and then I turned toward him.
"You do not n-need to c-come further," I said.
He paused.
Then looked at me properly.
"But I am helping you," he replied simply.
I frowned.
"This is not n-necessary. I c-can handle it from h-here."
Still, he did not move.
I thought of the maids inside. Of their eyes. Of what they would say.
Of what they would report to the Queen.
The Earl took a step closer instead. He tilted his head as he observed me curiously.
"Is there something," he asked slowly, "you would prefer I do not see, your highness?"
