“How could I be?” A faint tug pulled at one corner of his lips. “Her Majesty came to those conclusions on her own. Foolish of me to think I could deceive a mother regarding her own daughter.”
“She is far more perceptive than we gave her credit for,” she agreed.
“Indeed.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “Especially considering how little time she spends with her daughter. That was an error on my part.”
“I don’t blame you, though,” Nin admitted, rubbing at her arm.
They fell into an uncertain silence, and she shifted from foot to foot. Lucille feigned busywork by smoothing the duvet, which was already neat.
Nin glanced at her, hoping the woman would somehow ease the awkwardness descending upon them.
Instead, Lucille clapped her hands. “Everything looks to be in order. I think I’ll take my leave,” Lucille announced before curtsying.
Nin blanched as the chambermaid exited the room, taking the last semblance of support with her. She would have to sit in discomfort or confront it head-on. Nin took a deep breath to prepare.
“So—” she started.
“I wished to—”
Their words collided, and they both stuttered, gesturing to the other to finish what they hadstarted.
“No, you really,” she insisted.
Cedric cleared his throat. “Very well. I simply wished to apologize to you.”
“No,” Nin said, surprising even herself. “I’m the one who should apologize. I acted impulsively that night. Going alone was a mistake. You were right—I got hurt.”
“Be as that may,” he seconded, and though his tone was mild, he seemed to search for the right words in the reflection of his polished boots. “While I respect your courage, your judgment is questionable. But I also… I wished to reassure you I wouldn’t hold a grudge against you. Especially when I know you were trying to do what was necessary.”
“You wouldn’t?” she asked, relief stirring with a whisper of hope that had betrayed her before. Although, faced with his earnest sympathy, she couldn’t help but surrender to its appeal once more.
A subtle warmth and a soft glimmer appeared in his eyes. “Never. I… I was simply worried. And perhaps my concern came more from selfishness, because…” He paused, his voice lowering. “I couldn’t trust myself to survive another failure.”
His confession hung in the air, fragile enough that Nin feared she could shatter it with a single breath. He was no longer the unyielding tutor, or the steadfast captain barring her from freedom. She saw him for what he truly was: a man riddled with unspoken fear for her well-being. The revelation shouldn’t have been new, for the thought had winked in and out of existence occasionally when she wasn’t cross with him, yet it struck her like a thunderclap.
The hope she allowed to sprout spread its light through each of her limbs.
She reached out—her touch a mere whisper against his hand, but he flinched, not out of fear but of surprise as he glanced at her fingers with rounded eyes behind his spectacles. For a moment, his thrumming pulse rushed against her skin before he pulled away.
“Well,” Cedric said, tugging at his cravat as though bracing himself, “we would do ill to disobey our queen.”
The disappointment of his retreat did not come. Instead, a newfound understanding—a tentative optimism wrapped around her heart. Nin lifted her chin. “You truly mean to work with me?”
“How could I refuse?” he said mildly. “Her Majesty was quite clear.”
“Yes, but…” Her voice faltered. “Do you want to?”
He did not answer at once. When he finally spoke, it was constrained and measured.
“Please understand, it is not that I do not wish to,” he said. “It is that I have witnessed what happens to those with the best intentions. Failure can not only ruin reputations, but it can also ruin a family’s entire world, even cost them their lives.”
His voice carried an irrefutable sincerity, shaped by fear and long memory. She gestured to the chair, hoping the small comfort might ease whatever plagued him, but he dismissed it with a hand.
“No, it’s all right. We do not have to indulge in the unhappiness of my past.”
“I would like to listen,” she said, imploring him.
He glanced at the chair she had offered, seeming to mull the invitation before accepting it. Nin sat across from him, noting the hunch of his shoulders as he folded his hands over the table.
