Fated Eclipse: The Illegitimate Princess And Her Alpha Suitors

Chapter 296: The Dance by the Lake

Chapter 295: The Dance by the Lake

Lyria’s POV

I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could utter a single word, Pippa spoke up.

"Your Highness," she said, "next time, you should not even attempt to describe someone. Just go straight to drawing. It would save us all a great deal of confusion."

The others nodded immediately, their expressions earnest.

Phineas studied the drawing for a moment, his brow furrowed.

"Your Highness," he said, "how many times have you actually seen this woman?"

I blinked.

"O-once," I said.

Then I wondered whether she looked familiar to him. Perhaps, by some twist of fate, he actually knew who she was.

"P-perhaps d-do you recognise her?" I asked.

He looked at the drawing again, then back at me.

"No, I am sorry. I only ask because it seems as though you are quite familiar with her," he said. "The way you drew all her features, the details—you captured everything so perfectly. And I must say, that is not something one does after seeing someone only once."

Margery nodded in agreement.

"That is true, Your Highness," she said. "And like Pippa said, perhaps next time, we should skip the descriptions altogether and move straight to the drawing. From what you have given us, even someone who has difficulty recognising faces would be able to identify the woman. It is quite remarkable."

I frowned at the drawing, my eyes tracing the lines I had created.

I could see errors and faults in it. Places where I could have made it better, where the shading was uneven or the proportions slightly wrong.

But they said it was perfect?

What was perfect about something that could so obviously be improved?

"I a-appreciate the support, b-but it is q-quite obvious that t-this is n-not perfect," I told them.

They were all silent for a moment.

Then Debbie stepped closer.

"Your Highness," she said, "you draw excellently. And this is us being honest. It is not simply about supporting you. Take Margery, for instance. The only thing she can draw is a stick figure, though hers is admittedly better than what Duke Valenridge drew at the cancelled competition."

I almost smiled at that.

"I doubt anyone could draw worse than Duke Valenridge, to be honest," Bridget said.

The others chuckled at her words.

I was quite certain there would be others who drew worse than Duke Valenridge, though.

Elara spoke gently.

"We can use this drawing, Your Highness, even if you feel as though it is lacking," she said. "It is very beautiful."

She paused, then asked, "Did you take lessons when you were younger?"

I blinked, startled by the question.

"I d-did not take lessons from a p-professional," I said. "But yes, I d-did learn. Someone t-taught me."

Elara’s expression softened.

"Whoever taught you must have been very skilled," she said.

I gave her a sad smile at the reminder of the woman who had taught me to draw.

It was almost as though I could hear her soft voice whispering to me as she guided my hand.

Remembering her sent a sharp pang through my chest.

It had been a while since I had visited her.

I hoped I would get the chance soon.

I pushed the thought aside and focused on the task at hand.

"Can y-you all h-help me f-find Glenda?" I asked.

They all nodded.

Elara spoke first.

"I will ask the Head Maid," she said. "But I must be honest, Your Highness—this woman does not resemble any maid I have ever seen. Her features are not familiar to me."

Margery shook her head.

"I have not seen anyone like her in the palace either," she said. "But I will make certain to look."

I nodded.

"I w-would appreciate that," I said. "If you can get me i-information about who she is, I w-would be grateful."

They all nodded.

Then Phineas and Brayden bowed.

"We should return to our posts," Phineas said. "To avoid attracting suspicion."

I nodded.

They turned and left the chamber, their footsteps fading into the corridor.

---

Time passed.

There was nothing to do except read, sleep, and take the bitter herbs Kathryn brought.

She came by to check on me, and again the herbs were unpleasant, but I drank them without complaint. The injuries on my feet were healing well now, the pain fading with each passing day.

Then, around eight in the evening, I left my chambers.

Margery and Pippa accompanied me, their cloaks drawn tightly around them, their hoods pulled low over their faces, just as mine was.

Bridget and Debbie had gone undercover to gather more information about the secret guard and about Glenda. Elara remained behind, while Phineas and Brayden stood guard outside my chambers.

We moved through the shadows, keeping to the edges of the corridors, our footsteps silent against the floor.

We could not trust anyone apart from ourselves.

Who knew what maid or guard might report back to the Queen if they saw us?

Finally, we reached the lake.

The forgotten wing stretched out before us, silent and still.

The water glimmered beneath the moonlight, its surface dark and reflective.

Lucian was already there.

His valet stood at a respectful distance.

When Lucian saw me, he smiled.

I removed my cloak, and Margery took it from me.

"For a moment," he said, "I feared you were not going to come."

I made a face.

"I am n-not planning on making a f-fool of myself in the p-presence of the nobles at the e-elimination ball," I said. "So I am g-going to make certain that I l-learn and do b-better."

Lucian smiled and closed the distance between us.

"How are you doing?" he asked softly.

"I am g-good," I said. "I am healing w-well."

He nodded, his gaze moving over my face as though he wished to verify that for himself.

And for some reason, I became self-conscious of the way he was looking at me.

I cleared my throat.

"W-we have l-little time," I said to him. "W-we should b-begin."

"I know," he said.

He stepped back.

Then he bowed.

"May I have this dance, Your Highness?" he asked.

I could not help the smile that formed on my face.

"Yes," I said.

He took my hand in his, his fingers warm and steady.

He placed his other hand at my waist, and we began to move.

The dance was the same one he had taught me before—the waltz.

The steps were familiar now, the rhythm ingrained in my memory.

I followed his lead, my feet moving with more confidence than they had the first time.

We danced in silence for a while, the only sounds the soft rustle of our clothes and the gentle lapping of the water against the shore.

Then Lucian spoke.

"I am sorry about what happened the last time," he said. "I should have been more careful."

I frowned.

"What d-do you mean?" I asked.

He was quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond my shoulder.

"I found out what the Queen did to you," he said. "And I must apologise."

I stumbled slightly, but he steadied me.

"At first," he continued, "I thought you were simply ill. But then I discovered that was not the case. And then Jacinta threw a fit before you recovered—furious that you were being treated after a punishment she believed you thoroughly deserved."

He paused, his jaw tightening.

"I should have known they would be angry with you," he said. "I should have been more careful. I should have protected you from that. And I am sorry for placing you in such trouble."