Sudden flashes of memory race over me. Of the women being shot by arrows. Of blood pooling. Of collapsing to my knees and screaming as fire raced over me.
I rub harder into my temples, willing it to leave me, but the more time that passes, the more of a reminder it is.
Perhaps it’s silly of me to think I have a chance at marrying Cyrus.
Apart from the bandages wrapped around my hands as a sign I barely survived the first trial, my feet also ache horribly. Clearly, my days wearing years-old flats hadn’t trained me well for a lavish lifestyle of gowns and heels.
No matter how hard I tried to absorb the proper etiquette and history lessons that Lady Bethany taught us over the last few weeks, the fact of the matter is I am neither lux nor lethal.
Perhaps my time would be best spent back in Kilamber. Making bread alongside my family until our knuckles ache from kneading.Thatis the soreness I am used to. Was born into.
Or are you just homesick?
The door opens behind me, and I jerk up off my back. Quickly reaching for my shoes as a tall, dark figure sweeps into the room. A pair of haunting white eyes quickly finds me. Tossing a look behind him into the dining room before quietly shutting the door, Cyrus asks slowly, “Are you alright?”
Blinking, I flatten my skirts down over my legs, my cheeks heating at the thought of him seeing my ankles. “Oh, yes, of-of course, my King—” I pause, shaking my head. “Sorry. Cyrus. I, umm…”
I straighten and stand, my balance wobbling as I didn’t quite place my left foot into my shoe well enough, so I seize the arm of the lounge.
“I can leave at once—” I blurt, and take a step before my ankle nearly gives, stealing my breath for a moment.
He lurches forward with outstretched arms, ready to catch me, but as I steady myself, he keeps his distance. “No, it’s quite alright. My apologies if I startled you. I had…wanted to ask something of you, and noticed you slipped into the reflection room.”
“A reflection room?” I repeat, shifting my left foot into my shoe harder until it fits properly.
Dragging his gaze from mine, he takes slow step after step to the nearest painting. His eyes and expression are distant as he admires it: a stunning field of blue roses at night, with stars peppering the sky. Lifting a hand, he tenderly brushes the corner of the frame with his thumb.
“Originally it was made for the royalty’s most trusted advisors to congregate during mass dinners and celebrations. It helped for negotiating and discussing any sort of conversations that sparked during the events. But I found it more useful as a reflection room. I revel in the silence. The quiet is a friend to me, especially when everything else is so loud…”
“I see…I’m sorry for the intrusion, then?—”
“No.” He turns to me with a gentle, formal dip of his head. “Don’t be. Settings like this?” Lifting a gloved hand, he gestures out to the dining room. “Can be…a bit strenuous, depending on the factors and what’s expected of you. You are more than welcome to use this room. So, forgivemefor the interruption. I can leave at once.” He makes for the door.
That current about him that pulls me to him moves away with him for the exit. Like he’s taking all the air in the room with him. I blurt, “No, wait. You don’t need to leave. You’re not an interruption at all.”
He stops, turning slowly to me with a mix of surprise and relief. “I’m not?”
I shake my head with a timid smile, turning my attention to something else. I take a few hesitant steps toward the painting he was standing in front of and admiring. “It’s stunning. Though I’ve…never seen a blue rose before.”
His eyebrows lift. “You haven’t?” When I shake my head, he turns his attention back to admire it and murmurs, “They’re called the Gods’ flowers. Our elders have always believed blue is the Gods’ favorite color. It’s why it’s the color of the sky, the water. That our realm was created out of this color long before there were any others.”
He walks until we are next to one another. As his eyes collide with mine, it sparks my heart rate. Is he looking at the blue in my eyes, as he does the blue in the roses?
Clearing his throat, he steps away to the next painting. One of a glowing blue river snaking through a night forest. It’s so odd, seeing so much blue in a castle that’s fashioned in gold and reds. As I grab my dress to steady my hands, my face falls into a distant wonder. Because the fabric beneath my fingers?
It's blue.
“Lyra, tell me. Have you ventured much outside of Kilamber?”
“No,” I answer in a whisper, watching him stroll up to the river painting and stopping. His back is to me, gloved hands clasped back behind him.
“Would you care to see more of the Dragon Lands?” He turns slightly to look at me over his broad shoulder.
“I…” I swallow, “Unfortunately, I’d never be able to afford traveling much outside of Kilamber.”
“So finances are a concern for you?”
I let my gaze fall to the floor. “Yes. I do not come from a wealthy family, I’m afraid.”
