Chapter 96: A Promise in Shadow and a Knock at Dusk
Chapter 95: A Promise in Shadow and a Knock at Dusk
Lyria’s POV
I left Patricia’s room with her final words still echoing softly in my mind.
I decided to visit my mother after my visit to Patricia. She was the most important person in my life, after all.
The corridor stretched before me, dim and familiar. My steps were quiet, measured, as befitted one who had long learned the value of moving unseen.
To my quiet relief, no guards stood before the door. Though I was relieved, the fact that there still wasn’t a guard outside the door irked me, but at least it helped me sneak around.
I glanced once over my shoulder to be certain I was alone, then slipped inside, closing the door behind me with the softest click.
The room was dim, lit only by a single low lamp. My mother lay as she always did—still, pale, her breathing shallow and even. There was no change from the last time I had seen her. No improvement, no worsening. She simply existed in that fragile limbo, sustained by the herbs I scraped together at such cost and by those the queen was merciful enough to bestow on her when she felt like it.
I crossed to her bedside without a word. Words felt unnecessary here. I drew up the small stool and sat, then gently took her hands in mine. They were cool, the skin paper-thin, but familiar. I held them carefully, as though they might break. For a long while, I simply sat there, the silence wrapping around us like a cloak. I let the quiet fill me, let the weight of the day settle. Her presence, even unconscious, was a tether—one of the strongest I possessed.
At length, I spoke, my voice barely above a whisper, as though the walls themselves might listen.
"I w-will get more herbs for you, Mama," I promised. "I will work h-harder. I will find a way to gather what you need. We will leave this place—all of us. Me, you, and P-patricia. I-I swear it."
I paused, gathering my thoughts.
"I am sure you are w-wondering why I’m here again. I s-spoke with a Duke today," I continued softly. "I am not going to l-lie, Mama, I was s-so close to giving up today."
"T-the weight felt too great, Mama. But he reminded me of the reasons why I s-still stay. W-why I still fight. Why I still put up with the things I put up with."
I paused before I continued. "It d-does not matter what the Queen does, or w-what Jacinta threatens. I will do everything in my power to leave this palace. A-and I will make certain you are healed. You will b-breathe freely again. You w-will smile again. We will p-paint together again and even c-cook together. I w-will see to it."
I leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. Her skin was cool beneath my lips. I lingered a moment longer, then rose.
"R-rest well," I murmured. "I w-will return soon. Don’t give up yet, M-mama."
I watched her for a moment longer before standing up. I wished I could spend more time with her, but I knew it was too dangerous. I could not stay longer.
I slipped out as quietly as I had entered, pulling the door closed behind me. The corridor remained empty. A small mercy from the goddess, I think.
Thankfully, no summons came from Jacinta or the Queen for the remainder of the day. I returned to my chambers, changed into a fresh shift, and allowed myself the rare luxury of rest. I lay upon my narrow bed and closed my eyes. Sleep came more easily than I had expected—deep and peaceful, untroubled by dreams.
I had no idea how long I even slept. I only knew I was enjoying a rare peace in the palace without the hassle of seeing Jacinta again.
It was late afternoon, perhaps early evening, when a knock sounded at my door.
I sat upright at once, heart lurching. A frown creased my brow as my pulse quickened. Who could possibly be calling at this hour? Jacinta rarely summoned me after such punishments, and the Queen even less so. The knock came again.
I rose quickly, glancing about for something to defend myself with. My hand closed around the small knife I kept hidden beneath my pillow. It was not much, but it was something.
I told myself it was likely only a servant sent on some errand, yet caution had kept me alive this long.
If it was a servant, then there would be no need for the knife—but if it wasn’t, then there would be every need for it.
I moved to the door on silent feet and opened it just enough to peer out.
Instead of a maid, I found a tall figure cloaked in dark fabric. Familiar blue eyes locked onto mine.
For a heartbeat, the world narrowed to that gaze.
"Your Grace..." I breathed, shock rendering my voice faint.
Lucian—Duke Aurelgrave—smiled weakly, the expression tinged with something almost apologetic.
"We are back to titles, then?" he said quietly. "I thought I had told you to call me by my name. You need not stand on ceremony with me."
I ignored the suggestion, my grip tightening on the door.
"Why are you here?" I asked, my voice low but steady despite the stammer that threatened.
He glanced once down the corridor, then back to me.
"You should probably let me in first," he replied, his tone measured and courteous, "before someone sees and you find yourself in further trouble."
I almost rolled my eyes at the presumption, but propriety—and caution—won out. I stepped back and opened the door wider.
He entered without hesitation. The moment he crossed the threshold, I closed the door behind him and turned, raising the small knife so that its point rested lightly against his chest.
"You had better start explaining why you are in my chambers," I said, my voice quiet but firm. "Your Grace."
