Chapter 200: A Candidate in Name
Chapter 199: A Candidate in Name
Lyria’s POV
The hall emptied not long after the results were announced.
It happened gradually at first.
Nobles rose from their seats, their conversations quiet and measured beneath the glow of chandeliers and enchanted sconces. Silk brushed against polished floors. Gloves were adjusted. Courtesies exchanged.
Then, little by little, the hall began to hollow.
The candidates departed alongside their attendants, the sound of their footsteps fading into the vast corridors beyond the chamber doors.
I watched them leave.
Or rather, I watched one of them leave.
Duke Valenridge.
I had attempted to approach him after the proceedings concluded, though "attempted" was perhaps too generous a word for something I had never truly been given the opportunity to do.
The moment the formalities ended, movement overtook the hall entirely.
The candidates were surrounded almost immediately by nobles, attendants, officials, and servants carrying messages from various factions of court.
I was of the opinion that it was unnecessary. Just because a faction supported a candidate did not fully mean the candidate would win but then, I was not particularly used to the ways of the court after all.
Conversations formed and dissolved with alarming speed, and before I could so much as take more than three steps forward, the Duke had already been moving toward the exit with the others.
And then he was gone.
Just like that.
I lowered my gaze.
This was quite ridiculous.
I should not have cared nearly as much as I did.
The results had already been decided long before the competition ended. I knew that.
And yet I still could not understand how anyone could listen to what had been presented and reach the conclusion they had.
My hands folded quietly before me as I walked through the palace corridors.
My three maids followed several steps behind in silence.
The palace was quieter now than it had been earlier in the day, though not truly quiet. A place like this never was.
Servants still moved through the halls with lowered heads and careful steps. Guards stood stationed beside archways in polished armour that reflected the golden light spilling from wall sconces.
The scent of beeswax lingered faintly in the air.
Outside the tall windows lining the corridor, rain tapped softly against the glass.
I exhaled slowly.
I only wished to return to my chambers.
To sit somewhere private for perhaps ten minutes without needing to monitor every expression upon my face.
Unfortunately, the palace rarely allowed such luxuries.
A maid appeared before me just as I turned the corner leading toward the western wing.
She bowed immediately.
"Her Majesty requests your presence."
My stomach tightened at once.
Ah.
There it is.
I had known this would happen eventually.
In truth, I had expected it sooner.
Still, knowing something would occur and standing before it were entirely different matters.
I swallowed carefully.
"I-I see," I said quietly.
The maid remained bowed and gestured for me to follow her.
I nodded once and followed after her.
My maids exchanged quick glances behind me before falling into step once more.
At first, I assumed I was being led toward the Queen’s chambers.
Instead, the maid guided me elsewhere entirely.
Toward one of the palace tearooms.
The realization settled uneasily within me as we approached the carved double doors at the end of the corridor.
Two guards stood outside.
Neither looked at me. They immediately opened the doors, and I stepped inside.
And immediately I did, I saw both of them.
The Queen and the King, seated perfectly still within the tearoom.
The room itself was warm, lit softly by crystal lamps resting upon gilded side tables. Pale blue wallpaper patterned with silver vines climbed the walls, while tall windows overlooked the drenched palace gardens beyond.
At the centre sat a long table prepared for tea.
Porcelain cups rested untouched beside polished silverware.
Steam still curled faintly from the teapot even though no one was drinking from it.
I bowed immediately.
"Your Majesties."
The Queen chuckled softly at my greeting. It was not a pleasant sound.
"Kneel."
It seemed we were going to forgo all pretence and move straight to the reason I was here.
I lowered myself to my knees at once.
The polished floor was cold beneath my dress, and I kept my expression blank.
The Queen rested one gloved hand against the arm of her chair as she regarded me.
"Close the door."
The maid behind me bowed.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The doors shut quietly.
The sound echoed far louder than it should have.
My three maids remained near the entrance, heads bowed low enough that I could not see their expressions.
Silence settled over the room.
Then the Queen spoke.
"Have you forgotten your position?"
I already knew what she meant.
Of course I did.
But acknowledging that would accomplish nothing. And so I lowered my gaze slightly and said,
"P-Pardon, Your Majesty?"
The Queen gave a slow smile.
"Oh, do not insult me further," she said. "You are many things, Lyria, but you are not foolish enough to misunderstand my meaning."
I swallowed carefully.
"I-I truly do not understand."
A soft laugh escaped her.
The King, who had remained silent until now, shifted slightly in his seat.
Then he gave a small nod toward the Queen’s maid.
The maid bowed immediately and moved. I barely had time to register it before she reached me.
The slap struck hard enough to send my head turning sharply to the side. Pain burst across my cheek instantly, and my eyes stung. For one humiliating moment, my vision blurred.
But I did not cry.
I had learned long ago that crying only brought them a sick sort of joy.
Slowly, I turned my face back forward.
Then bowed once more.
"Forgive me," I said softly. "I-I truly do not understand what error I have committed."
The Queen watched me carefully and then the King chuckled darkly.
The sound made something cold settle in my stomach.
Then he leaned slightly forward in his chair.
"Tell me," he said calmly. "Do you truly believe that because you are called a Moon Candidate, you are one in any meaningful sense?"
