She cleared her throat and lifted the silver tray. “Anyway. Time will tell. But I wouldn’t bet against either of them. They’re both too damn stubborn.”
“Gods help us all, then.”
“Indeed,” Vesena agreed, heading toward the door. “And for now? I have a princess to feed.”
Cedric fell into step beside Vesena. The silver tray in her hands trembled just slightly with the weight of the teapot, bowl of stew, and side dishes. Without a word, Cedric reached out and gently took the teapot from the tray. Vesena shot him a sideways glance.
“Thanks,” she muttered.
“No problem.”
The hallways stretched ahead, lined with sconces casting flickering amber light across the polished stone floors. The rich tapestries hanging on the walls depicted ancient battles and regal ceremonies.
“So,” Cedric began, his voice casual but laced with purpose, “what do you suggest?”
Vesena lifted a brow. “What doIsuggest?”
“Yeah,” Cedric said, glancing at her as they turned down another hallway. “We need to somehow fix... them.”
Vesena snorted. “Fix them? You make it sound like they're a pair of broken tools.”
He gave her a dry look. “You know what I mean. They're getting married. Might as well help them get along. Unless you want to witness a diplomatic disaster every day for the rest of our lives.”
“I'm not sure meddling in their personal matters is wise,” Vesena replied, adjusting the tray. “It’s not our place. They're adults. Royals. They should figure it out themselves.”
Cedric sighed and stopped at a corner, reaching for the heavy wooden door that led to the next hallway. He pushed it openand gestured for her to pass. “And yet, here we are, carrying tea and dinner to a princess who faked illness to avoid her future husband. Very adult behavior.”
Vesena stepped through the doorway. “I'm saying involvement could backfire. Royals don’t appreciate interference.”
“Still. Someone's got to nudge them in the right direction. Left to their own devices, they'll either kill each other or die of awkward silence. Although, I doubt Alaric would allow that, he'd probably talk her to death. And I think he actually wants her to like him. That might be the worst part.”
Vesena exhaled. “I'm not promising anything. But... if there’s a way to ease things without them noticing, I’ll consider it.”
Cedric grinned. “That’s the spirit. Quiet sabotage in the name of peace. A happy master is a happy servant. I don’t want to spend the next however many years listening to Prince Alaric complain about how his wife looks at him like he’s a piece of overly salted meat. You and I both know who ends up cleaning that mess.Us.”
“So, your solution is to... what? Play matchmaker? This isn’t some tavern romance story, Cedric.”
“Not matchmaker,” he corrected, pushing open the door to the next hallway and holding it for her. “Facilitator. Encourager of harmony. I just want them to get along so they leave us alone. If they’re busy... with other things,” he added with a sly grin, “they won’t have time to be at each other’s throats. Less work for us, more peaceful days. It’s practical. Self-preservation, really.”
They approached Evelyne’s chambers. Vesena paused, set the tray down on a marble ledge, and crossed her arms. There was a pinch between her brows, the thoughtful kind.
“If Prince Alaric wants to reach her heart, he needs to earn it. No shortcuts.” Her voice softened with conviction. “Instead of talking, he should listen.”
She glanced around to ensure no wandering ears lingered nearby. “Their worlds are different. Edrathen clings to traditions older than the Sundering, afraid of repeating past mistakes. Prince and Princess need to move past that.”
Silence stretched again, comfortable this time. Vesena adjusted the tray, gaze distant.
Cedric nudged her elbow gently. “vAnd you? How are you holding up with all... this? Are they working you too hard already?”
Vesena offered a faint smile. “It’s a lot. But I’ll manage. Besides... She's kind. I think she just needs time.”
“Time’s a luxury in politics,” Cedric muttered, but his gaze was understanding. He set the teapot back on the tray. “Still... good to hear you’re settling in. Not everyone can handle a job like this. I wouldn’t trust half the castle to fold linens, let alone serve royalty.”
Vesena was just about to answer, when a dignified little grunt cut off his genius.
Cedric turned—and there it was. The end of peace.
Thalen Tresselyn, royal menace incarnate.
