Chapter 229: Broken Porcelain
Chapter 228: Broken Porcelain
Lyria’s POV
I sighed.
There was no use in arguing. Diana would not listen, and she was right, the Queen would not wait, and I was too exhausted to fight against either of them.
"V-very well," I said. "L-lead the w-way."
Diana turned and walked out of the chamber without waiting to see if I followed.
I followed.
The corridor stretched before us. Diana walked ahead of me, her steps brisk and purposeful, her back rigid with barely concealed irritation.
I did not speak, and neither did she, though I would have preferred noise to the quiet of my thoughts, because all I could see was Patricia on the bed.
We passed through the silent halls, past the tall windows that looked out upon the gardens, past the guards who stood at attention without meeting anyone’s eyes.
We stopped before a familiar door.
The Queen’s chambers.
I had stood before this door many times before. I had entered it in fear, in dread, in weary resignation. I had knelt upon its cold floors and endured whatever punishment she chose to inflict.
And this was no different.
The guards outside opened the door, and Diana and I both walked in.
The chamber was warm.
A fire crackled in the hearth, its flames casting a soft golden glow across the room. Tall windows lined one wall, veiled in sheer ivory curtains that allowed the moonlight to spill across the polished wooden floor. Shelves lined the walls, filled with leather-bound books, porcelain figurines, delicate glass vials, and ornate jewellery boxes. The air carried the scent of lavender tea and polished wood.
The Queen sat in her chair near the fire.
Jacinta stood beside her.
Her arms were folded loosely across her chest, her expression one of barely concealed satisfaction. Her golden hair had been arranged in an elaborate style, and her gown was a deep shade of emerald that caught the firelight and held it.
She looked pleased to see me.
That was never a good sign.
Diana bowed and retreated to the corner of the room, where Sally and Theresa already stood, their heads bowed, their hands folded before them. They did not look up as I entered. They did not acknowledge me at all.
I crossed to the centre of the room and stopped.
The Queen regarded me in silence.
Her gaze was cold and assessing. She let the silence stretch, let it press against my ears, let it fill the space between us like something solid.
And when she finally spoke, her voice was soft.
It sounded kind... almost enough that anyone who was not paying attention would think she cared, even if she did not.
"Have you forgotten before whom you stand?" she asked me.
I bowed at once.
"I a-apologise, Your M-majesty," I said as I bowed, greeting her properly and also Jacinta, because that was what was expected of me.
Jacinta did not acknowledge me, though.
The Queen’s lips curved into something that might have been a smile, though it did not reach her eyes.
"Must I remind you of everything?" she asked. "Must I remind you of your place?"
I remained silent, choosing not to reply to her, especially given the fact that I was not in the right state of mind to do so.
The Queen laughed.
It was a soft sound, almost pleasant.
Then she picked up the teacup from the table beside her and threw it at me.
I did not flinch.
The cup struck the floor at my feet and shattered, porcelain shards scattering across the polished wood. Tea splashed against my skirts, soaking into the fabric.
"Step on it," she said pleasantly.
I stared at her.
My face was blank. I had learned long ago to keep it that way. But surely she was joking... right?
"Are you deaf?" she asked.
I did not reply to her. It was obvious she had not been joking like I thought.
I stepped onto the broken porcelain.
The shards crunched beneath my slipper, grinding against the floor. Some of them slid across the polished wood. Others remained where they were, pressed against the thin sole of my shoe.
The Queen watched me.
"Remove your slipper," she said. "Step on it barefoot."
I paused, but only for a moment.
Then I bent down, removed my slipper, and placed my bare foot upon the broken porcelain.
The shards bit into my skin immediately. Sharp edges pressed against the soft flesh of my sole, drawing blood I could feel but not see. The pain was immediate and sharp, a bright, stinging sensation that radiated through my foot and up my leg.
And even with the pain, I did not wince. Neither did I flinch.
I kept my face blank and my gaze fixed upon the Queen, and I did not give her the satisfaction of seeing me hurt.
She huffed in annoyance. That was not what she had been expecting.
"Is there something wrong with you?" she asked.
I did not answer.
"Speak when you are spoken to," she said sharply.
I bowed my head.
"I am not a-aware of any a-ailment, Your Majesty," I said softly. "I am s-simply... as I have always b-been."
The Queen’s expression twisted with disgust.
Jacinta stepped forward, her eyes narrow, her lips curled.
"Have you grown wings?" she asked. "Is that it? You think you can speak back to the Queen now?"
I bowed lower.
"It was n-not my intention to be m-misunderstood," I said. "I merely r-replied when H-her Majesty a-asked me a question. Her Majesty values h-honesty. I s-sought only to p-provide it."
Jacinta released an irritated sound at my reply.
"Do tell, is that how you seduced the suitor candidates?" she asked. "With your... honesty?"
So that was what this was about.
I should have suspected it from the beginning. It should have been something I picked up on from the moment I had been summoned.
I almost laughed at the absurdity of it all.
Seduce?
Did she truly believe I sought to seduce candidates after the revelation that someone who was like a second mother to me was dead?
