Chapter 191: What Was Said Aloud
Chapter 190: What Was Said Aloud
Lyria’s POV
For a moment after Jacinta finished speaking, the hall remained very still.
Then Earl Hawthorne moved.
He stepped forward just enough to incline himself properly, his posture as correct as any of the others, though without the careful excess some of them seemed to favour.
"Your Highness," he said to Jacinta, his tone even, respectful, "you have interpreted it perfectly."
Jacinta smiled, obviously glad he had told her that.
"I am pleased you think so, my lord," she replied.
There was a faint approval in her voice, the kind she reserved for moments that reflected well upon her.
The Earl inclined his head once more.
Then he turned.
And for a fraction of a second, I thought he would simply return to his place, as the others had done.
But he did not. Instead, he stepped toward me.
It was not a large movement, nor one that would draw immediate attention from those not already watching closely, but I felt it all the same.
He bowed then.
"Princess Lyria," he said.
I blinked before I could stop myself.
"Yes?" I managed.
"You read it perfectly," he said.
It was simple.
There was no embellishment to the words, no layered meaning hidden beneath them, no careful phrasing intended to be interpreted in several ways at once.
And honestly, after what happened with Corvin, I was grateful for this.
My fingers tightened slightly, though I kept my posture unchanged.
"Thank you, my lord," I said, keeping my voice as even as I could.
To anyone else, it would have meant very little.
A courtesy perhaps, a polite acknowledgment.
But to me, it was more than that.
I did not miss the way Jacinta’s expression shifted, though it was brief.
So brief that anyone not looking directly at her would not have seen it at all.
The softness in her smile tightened, and the edges sharpened.
Something less pleasant flickered through it before she smoothed it away.
Then she turned to me fully.
"The Earl is right, you did very well," she said, her tone light. "Far better than before with the Marquess’s poem. It is... encouraging to see such improvement."
The words settled between us, thinly veiled and perfectly understood.
I inclined my head slightly.
"Thank you, Your Highness," I said.
I did not rise to the challenge, nor did I acknowledge it.
I let it pass.
For a moment, I thought that would be the end of it.
That the Earl would return to his place and the proceedings would continue as they had before.
But he remained where he was.
And then, to my complete surprise, he spoke again.
"I must admit," he said, turning slightly toward Jacinta, "I believe I would have had difficulty reading the Marquess’s poem myself."
I blinked, taken aback by his words.
My lips parted slightly before I could stop myself.
He continued, entirely unaware.
"There were a great many difficult words," he said, "and I cannot say I fully understood their meaning until Your Highness explained them."
The Earl’s brow furrowed faintly, as though he were considering the matter more seriously now that he had said it aloud.
"In fact," he added, "I had thought the poem might be... more, given the language used. Though I found it rather underwhelming in the end."
There was a pause.
Then his eyes widened slightly, as if only just realising what he had said.
"Not that it was not brilliant in its own way," he added quickly. "Of course."
I heard a sound and turned immediately.
It sounded suspiciously like laughter being held under control.
Duke Thorncrest stood where he had been, one hand raised loosely to his mouth, his shoulders shaking ever so slightly as though he were engaged in a silent and determined battle with himself.
Lucian had a smile on his face.
He lowered his head at once, as though examining something on his sleeve, but the curve of his mouth remained.
Duke Valenridge let out a quiet breath that might have been a laugh, though he disguised it as a cough, shaking his head faintly.
Baron Redwick looked upward briefly, pressing his fingers lightly to his temple as though seeking patience from a higher authority.
And Marquess Hale was not smiling.
His expression had settled into something tight and displeased, his mouth drawn thin, his gaze fixed ahead with a sharpness that did nothing to improve his appearance.
If anything, it made him look worse.
The Earl shifted again.
"I do apologise," he said, though his tone suggested he was not entirely certain what he was apologising for. "It was, truly, a good poem."
The Queen spoke then.
"That will be quite enough, my lord," she said, her voice smooth, though there was something beneath it that suggested her patience had thinned.
She lifted a hand slightly.
"You may return to your place."
The Earl inclined his head at once.
"Of course, Your Majesty."
He turned and began to walk back.
He passed between the rows of candidates.
Then he stopped directly in front of Marquess Hale.
I watched.
I could not help it.
The Earl looked at him with what appeared to be complete sincerity.
"I did think your poem was quite good," he said. "Truly. I did."
The Marquess’s smile did not reach his eyes.
"Your opinion is most appreciated," he said.
The words were polite.
The tone was not.
The Earl nodded, as though satisfied.
Then he turned and continued on his way, returning at last to his place among the others.
Duke Thorncrest exhaled slowly, his composure still intact by some miracle of will, though it was clear he was very near the edge of losing it entirely.
And I honestly could not blame him one bit, because though the Earl had been honest in his words, he had made it known to everyone that Corvin’s poem was not as good as he thought it was.
And it seemed to annoy the royal family that their plans had fallen through.
And I was quite appreciative to Earl Hawthorne for what he had done, even if he did it without knowing.
