Chapter 210: Partners in Crime
Chapter 209: Partners in Crime
Lyria’s POV
I blinked at him.
For a moment, I was quite certain I had misheard him.
The rain continued tapping softly against the windows, filling the silence that followed his words.
Duke Thorncrest remained where he was, leaning slightly forward, his expression open and patient as though he had not just said something entirely unexpected.
I looked at him carefully.
"What," I asked slowly, "would y-you like to know, Your Grace?"
The corners of his mouth lifted.
"Anything," he said lightly. "Everything."
That seemed impossible.
There was very little about me worth knowing.
"I m-must admit," I said after a moment, "I am quite boring."
He smiled at once.
"I sincerely doubt that."
I lowered my gaze briefly toward my gloves.
Duke Thorncrest remained silent for a few moments afterward, as though carefully deciding what to ask first.
The rain grew heavier outside.
Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled softly again.
Then he spoke.
"Did my poem truly resonate with you?"
I blinked.
Of all the questions I had expected, that had not been among them.
I looked at him.
"Is that s-supposed to help you know me better?" I asked.
He laughed immediately.
"No," he admitted. "Not particularly."
His smile widened slightly.
"But I am curious."
That, at least, I understood.
The poetry competition had revealed more than people realised. Poems were dangerous things sometimes. People wrapped truths inside them and called it artistry, hoping others would admire the words without noticing the wounds hidden beneath them.
I folded my hands more tightly together.
"Each poem was d-different," I said carefully. "Yours included."
He listened quietly.
"You used humour," I continued softly, "to cover parts of it. But there was still m-meaning beneath the jokes."
His expression shifted slightly then.
"But I m-must admit," I said, "that your poem did not fully resonate with me."
One of his brows lifted slightly.
"No?"
I shook my head.
"Not entirely."
"And why is that?"
I hesitated.
It felt oddly embarrassing to explain.
"From what I understood," I said slowly, "your poem suggested that h-home could also refer to a p-person."
His gaze remained fixed upon me.
"A partner," I clarified quietly.
Realisation flickered across his face.
"Yes," he said softly. "That was indeed part of the meaning."
I nodded once.
"I have n-never r-really had one," I admitted.
Duke Thorncrest grew unusually quiet.
The playful ease he carried so naturally faded somewhat, replaced by something softer.
Then he asked,
"What about having me as one?"
I frowned immediately.
My entire body stiffened slightly before I could stop it.
His lips twitched.
Then he chuckled.
The sound broke through my alarm almost instantly.
"Oh dear," he said between laughs. "That expression."
"You m-made it sound rather alarming," I informed him cautiously.
"I apologise," he said, still clearly amused. "That was not my intention."
I looked at him suspiciously.
He pressed one hand dramatically against his chest.
"You wound me, Princess."
"I th-think you survived quite well."
That earned another laugh from him.
I stared at him for a moment longer before speaking again.
"I must apologise regardless," I said quietly. "I am not in the proper h-headspace for romance, Your Grace."
His expression softened immediately.
"And I was not speaking of romance."
I blinked.
"You were not?"
"No."
He leaned back slightly against the settee.
"I merely meant partnership."
I frowned faintly.
"P-partnership?"
"Yes."
He smiled again, though this smile was calmer than the earlier ones.
"What if we became partners in crime instead?"
I stared at him.
"Partners in c-crime," I repeated blankly.
"It sounds rather dramatic when phrased aloud," he admitted.
"A little."
"But admit it," he said. "It is far more interesting than simply saying friends."
I tried very hard not to smile.
I failed slightly.
The corners of his mouth curved upward immediately as though he had caught me committing something scandalous.
"There," he said triumphantly. "That is the second smile I have seen from you today."
My expression immediately flattened again.
"You are counting?"
"Of course."
"That s-seems excessive."
"I am a Duke," he informed me solemnly. "Excess is expected of me."
I looked away so he would not see my lips twitch again.
The rain softened slightly outside, becoming steadier now rather than violent.
For a little while neither of us spoke.
Oddly enough, the silence did not feel uncomfortable.
Then I looked back toward him.
"Is that even l-likely?" I asked quietly.
He tilted his head.
"Is what likely?"
"Friendship w-with someone l-like me."
Duke Thorncrest watched me for a moment before answering.
"Yes," he said simply. "I think so."
I lowered my gaze again.
"I do not exactly have experience w-with such things."
His voice gentled slightly.
"Neither do most nobles, truthfully."
That surprised me enough to look back up.
He laughed softly at my expression.
"Oh, we are surrounded by people constantly," he said. "But that does not necessarily mean companionship."
He rested one arm along the back of the settee.
"Half the court spends its time performing for one another. The other half spends its time plotting."
"That m-must be exhausting."
"It is exhausting."
His eyes drifted briefly toward the rain-streaked windows.
"That is why acquaintances help."
I blinked.
He looked back at me again.
"The fact that I even have acquaintances within this palace now makes things considerably less dull."
A faint smile crossed his face.
"And somewhat less loud."
"You really b-believe friendship could happen b-between us?"
"I said partners, Princess. Do not simply label me a friend. Who knows whether I shall become one after a while?" he told me.
I did not understand what he meant by that, but I nodded.
At some point during the conversation, the anxiety that had sat heavily in my chest since morning had loosened without my noticing.
The maids had been wrong.
Or perhaps they had merely wanted to be.
Duke Thorncrest did not seem burdened by my presence.
If anything, he seemed genuinely pleased by it.
The thought was oddly difficult to process.
I glanced toward the door briefly.
"They are t-taking quite a long time with the refreshments."
His lips twitched.
"I suspect they are hoping we perish from starvation before they return."
"That seems dramatic."
"You wound me again," he sighed. "I merely wished for biscuits."
I laughed softly before I could stop myself.
His entire face brightened immediately.
"There it is," he said. "Your third smile."
Alarmed, I pressed my lips together at once.
"You really are c-counting," I said with a laugh.
He leaned slightly closer then, lowering his voice as though about to share some great conspiracy.
"I have decided something important."
I eyed him cautiously.
"That sentence r-rarely leads to a-anything good."
"Probably true," he admitted.
Then his grin widened.
"I think," he said, "that we should play a game."
