Chapter 147: The Truth That Must Be Told Carefully
Chapter 146: The Truth That Must Be Told Carefully
Lyria’s POV
Duke Thorncrest gave a slow nod, his gaze still fixed on me.
"Well," he said at last, exhaling softly, "this is rather unexpected."
I blinked faintly.
"I find myself questioning whether you are the one meant to be learning from us," he continued, one brow lifting slightly, "or whether the arrangement ought to be reversed."
Heat rose faintly to my face.
Baron Redwick nodded once in quiet agreement.
"There is a degree of composure in that answer," he said, "that is not easily taught."
I did not know how to respond to that.
So I said nothing.
Baron Redwick adjusted his spectacles, his expression shifting as his thoughts moved elsewhere.
"That portion of your answer," he said, "regarding ailments..."
He paused briefly.
"That is drawn from the extended text of the prophecy, is it not?"
I nodded.
"Y-yes," I said softly.
He studied me for a moment.
"...Not everyone is aware of that section," he said.
I blinked in shock.
"R-Really?" I asked before I could stop myself.
Duke Thorncrest gave a small hum.
"No," he said. "Not everyone."
He leaned slightly back against the wall, his tone thoughtful now rather than teasing.
"Each territory preserves its own variations of the prophecy," he continued. "Some are more complete than others. Some are... selectively remembered."
Baron Redwick inclined his head.
"In recent years," he added, "there has been a gradual spread of the fuller interpretation. However, it is far from universal."
I frowned faintly.
"I had t-thought..." I began, then hesitated.
That everyone knew.
That it was... obvious.
Duke Thorncrest watched me closely.
"There is a great deal that the royal family does not present openly," he said, his tone mild, though there was an edge beneath it. "And even more that they allow to fade into obscurity."
Baron Redwick was quiet for a moment.
Then he spoke again.
"In light of that," he said, "there may be... advantage in how you choose to present that knowledge."
I looked at him.
He met my gaze steadily.
"Rather than stating it directly," he continued, "it may be more effective to imply it."
I tilted my head slightly.
"I-impl—?"
"That there is more to the prophecy than what has been publicly emphasized," he clarified.
Duke Thorncrest’s lips curved faintly.
"A suggestion," he said, "rather than a declaration."
Baron Redwick nodded.
"You need not accuse," he said, "nor contradict outright."
"But," Duke Thorncrest added smoothly, "you may allow others to arrive at that conclusion themselves."
I considered that.
"...To let t-them q-question it," I murmured.
"Precisely."
Baron Redwick’s gaze sharpened slightly.
"The royal family has already positioned you as the source of disruption," he said. "It would not be inappropriate to redirect some measure of that scrutiny."
My fingers curled faintly.
"...Respectfully," he added after a brief pause.
Duke Thorncrest smiled slightly.
"Subtlety," he said. "That is the key."
I nodded slowly.
"I u-understand," I said.
And I did.
If they wished to shape the narrative, then I would not oppose it directly.
I would simply... alter how it was seen.
Duke Thorncrest pushed himself away from the wall then, his attention shifting once more.
"Well," he said, "shall we continue?"
Baron Redwick inclined his head.
"By all means."
Duke Thorncrest turned fully toward me, his expression settling into something more focused.
"I have a question for you, Your Highness."
I straightened slightly.
The neutrality returned to my face, steadier now.
"I am r-ready," I said softly.
His gaze lingered on me for a moment, as though measuring that claim.
Then he spoke.
"Why," he asked, "did you choose not to participate in the selection prior to now?"
The words were calm.
But they struck deeper than the last.
"Why," he continued, "did you remain in the shadows?"
Silence followed.
This answer was dangerous. I could not speak the truth plainly.
So I considered what would be appropriate to say.
I weighed each word before it was even formed.
Then, slowly, I answered.
"As His Majesty and Her Majesty have stated," I said, my voice quiet and even, "I have long found myself... unsuited to courtly life."
Duke Thorncrest’s gaze did not waver.
"And by that," I continued, "it has been understood that I preferred to remain... apart."
I kept my expression still.
"I was not at ease in such settings," I added.
"Nor particularly inclined toward them."
Silence followed.
Then Duke Thorncrest tilted his head slightly.
"That," he said, "is rather convenient."
I stilled.
His tone was not mocking.
But it was not accepting either.
"Given the statements made by the King and Queen," he continued, "it presents a version of events that is... incomplete."
I held his gaze.
"Is it?" I asked quietly.
Baron Redwick shifted slightly beside him.
"There are always two sides to a matter," I said, my voice steady.
Silence fell again.
Baron Redwick exhaled softly.
"...Do not say that," he said.
I blinked.
He adjusted his spectacles.
"Not directly," he clarified. "Not in such a manner."
Duke Thorncrest nodded.
"It invites opposition," he said, "and places you in a position where you must defend your statement."
Baron Redwick inclined his head slightly.
"You do not want to appear as though you are contradicting the royal narrative," he added.
"...Even if it is not entirely accurate."
I swallowed.
"T-then... w-what should I say?" I asked.
Duke Thorncrest’s expression shifted, something sharper settling into it now.
"You will have to perform," he said simply.
I stilled.
"Not falsely," he added, "but... selectively."
Baron Redwick gave a small nod.
"You may present your experience in a manner that aligns with their expectations," he said, "while still retaining control over the implication."
I frowned faintly.
Duke Thorncrest stepped slightly closer.
"You were uncomfortable," he said. "That much is believable."
I did not respond.
"And you may say so," he continued. "You may say that, when you were younger, you found the attention... overwhelming."
Baron Redwick folded his hands loosely.
"That you required time," he added, "to adjust."
Duke Thorncrest’s gaze remained fixed on me.
"That you matured," he said. "Gradually."
I felt something tighten in my chest.
"And yet," he continued, "even after that, you were not entirely at ease."
Baron Redwick nodded.
"So rather than making a declaration that you were ready," he said, "you remained where you were most comfortable."
Duke Thorncrest’s voice softened slightly.
"Not out of defiance," he said. "Not out of refusal."
"But hesitation."
Baron Redwick finished the thought.
"A reluctance to impose yourself where you were uncertain you belonged."
