Chapter 95: Quiet Hands and Reasons to Remain
Chapter 94: Quiet Hands and Reasons to Remain
Lyria’s POV
I stood there, uncertain of where precisely to rest my gaze.
It felt... improper.
That was the only word that came to mind.
The Duke of Blackmere stood waist-deep in the lake, regarding the boy before him with an expression that hovered somewhere between long-suffering tolerance and quiet amusement.
And Tommy stood with his arms folded, entirely unbothered.
There was no stiffness in his posture.
No careful selection of words.
No hesitation.
He spoke to the Duke as though rank were a thing that did not exist between them.
As though they stood on equal ground.
I had never seen anything like it.
Not once.
Men of high standing and power were treated with a careful distance by those who served them. Respect was expected. Deference was required.
Even Corvin had never permitted such familiarity from his attendants.
But this...
This was something else entirely.
They sounded like siblings.
Tommy huffed softly, clearly dissatisfied, while the Duke merely shook his head as though resigned to his presence.
Then, as though remembering I was still there, His Grace turned toward me.
"It would seem," he said lightly, "that our peace has been... thoroughly interrupted."
There was a faint apology in his tone, though he did not say the words outright.
"I suppose," he continued, "it is time we bid one another farewell."
Something in my chest tightened at that.
"I trust," he added, with a faint curve of his lips, "that we shall speak again. Preferably without... unsolicited company."
Tommy scoffed under his breath.
I lowered my gaze at once.
"Y-yes, Your Grace," I said softly. "I would... I would l-like that."
The admission came before I could temper it.
He inclined his head in acknowledgment.
I drew in a breath, steadying myself.
"Th-thank you," I said, my voice quieter now. "F-for... e-everything."
The duke simply nodded, as though accepting something of equal weight.
I turned then, shifting my attention toward Tommy.
He was watching me with open curiosity, his earlier boldness softened now into something more approachable.
I inclined my head politely, and he smiled at me.
I returned it—just barely—before stepping away.
---
The distant sounds of activity carried faintly through the corridors, just as they always did.
And yet something had shifted.
The ache in my back was still there.
It had not vanished.
But it no longer pressed against me with the same insistence.
It no longer demanded my full attention.
Each step did not feel like something to endure.
Instead... it simply was present.
I exhaled slowly as I walked.
Was it the ointment?
No.
I had not yet applied it.
My thoughts drifted, unbidden, to pale green eyes and a voice that had spoken of holding on.
I tightened my fingers slightly around the edge of my sleeve.
Perhaps...
Perhaps it was that. Perhaps it was his words that made the pain lessen.
---
My chambers received me in silence.
I closed the door behind me with care.
I removed my outer garments, folding them before setting them aside. The fabric bore faint traces of dust and dried blood.
I did not linger on that.
Instead, I reached for the basin.
The water within was cool.
I dipped the cloth into it, wrung it out, and pressed it gently against my skin.
The contact drew a faint breath from me. It hurt, but it was manageable.
I worked in silence.
Careful not to reopen wounds that had only just begun to settle.
The cloth darkened.
I rinsed it.
Repeated the process.
Again.
And again.
Until there was nothing left to remove.
Only then did I reach for the small pot Helen had given me.
I opened it carefully.
The faint scent rose at once.
I adjusted my small mirror, angling it as best as I could.
The ointment cooled the skin as it spread, dulling the lingering heat beneath.
I exhaled softly.
When I had finished, I reached for the bandage.
I wrapped it with care, securing it without tightening it too much.
When it was done, I sat back.
For a moment, I simply remained there.
Then I folded the soiled cloth and set it aside.
I would wash it later.
There were other things to attend to first.
---
I walked without hesitation. The Duke had suggested spending time with what mattered to me, and one of them was behind the door in front of me.
I paused for a minute, breathing deeply, before opening the door.
The room was quiet when I walked in.
Patricia lay upon the bed, her form slight beneath the thin covering. She was asleep and had not noticed my presence.
Something in my chest softened at once.
Carefully, I moved closer.
Each step measured, as though I feared the floor itself might betray my presence.
When I reached her, I knelt.
And gently—I took her hands into mine. They were warm.
Her fingers stirred faintly at the contact.
Then, slowly, her eyes opened.
Sleep still clung to them, softening their edges.
But when she saw me, she smiled.
That same gentle smile.
It never failed to do something to me.
She shifted, attempting to sit, but I shook my head immediately.
My hands moved as I spoke.
"No need to rise, you can remain still. I didn’t come for a lesson," I told her.
She stilled, her eyes watching me deeply.
I swallowed under her scrutiny.
Her hands moved.
’What is wrong?’
I looked down briefly before looking back at her.
"It is n-nothing new," I admitted.
The words felt... insufficient.
But they were the truth.
My hands moved again.
"I only... wished to remind myself... what is worth fighting for."
Her expression changed.
She pushed herself up despite my earlier protest.
I began to object again—but she waved it aside.
Then she opened her arms, gesturing weakly at me.
I did not hesitate.
I leaned into her at once.
The embrace was gentle. I closed my eyes briefly, breathing her in, holding on.
After a moment, she pulled back.
Her hands rose.
’Everything will be alright.’
She continued.
’The strongest people are not those who never fall.’
Her hands paused only briefly.
’They are those who continue.’
I swallowed.
She tilted her head slightly.
’Do you know what it means to persevere?’ she asked me.
I nodded as I signed while speaking.
"To continue despite difficulty. To endure. To keep going."
She smiled and then nodded.
Her hands lifted once more.
’Then that is what you must do.’
She leaned closer, her gaze unwavering as she signed.
’Persevere. Because when the time comes—’
She paused.
’You will rise. And when you do, you will take the world by storm.’
