“What?” I pulled away to look at him.
“Who cares whether the young prince does well?”
“I do. I’m his maid.”
David raised his brows. I rolled my eyes.
“You care too much for them,” he chided. When I pulled away even more, he tilted his head. “I only say it because I care for you.”
I sagged at the earnestness in his face, always written in the crease between his brows. “Why should it matter whether I care?”
He gave me a sad smile. “Becausetheycouldn’t care less about people like us.”
I clenched my jaw, thinking of all the little ways I knew the royals cared. The bills passed on our behalf, the holiday allotments gifted to the cities, even the way Prince Stephen smiled at me in the hallway…
They had to.
And then I remembered that day at the pond only months ago, my first conversation with a prince.
My mind conjured the bothered look on Prince Thomas’s face. Like I’d been taking up too much space, like my grief was an inconvenience to him.
A spark of annoyance lit within me.
David reached an arm around me, rubbing my shoulder in distraction.
I managed a weak smile. “I suppose you’re right.”
His eyes searched mine, as if worried he’d spoken more than he ought to have. “But I care about you, Lyra. I always will.”
My smile grew, and I leaned into him. His arms pulled me close. We watched as Prince Thomas tripped mid-run, barely staying on his feet.
David snorted again, but I couldn’t bring myself to join him.
I sighed into his embrace. David was good to me—kind and reliable. He never missed our daily walks together, always inquired about my health and my family. He was respectable and had a good head on his shoulders, always reminding me what was realistic for people like us.
And for the next year and a half, he was enough. Between the efforts of him and my best friend Ella, I slowly returned to life, to work as a chambermaid, and to someone of the lowest classes: no more thoughts of craning my head upward, and no more thoughts of my father and his misplaced pride.
CHAPTER TWO
“So how’s Prince Theodore?”
My best friend, Ella, hid her grin. She tucked a curly strand of hair behind her ear. “Lyra, hush.”
We sat beneath the cherry trees that lined the garden perimeter, their pink blossoms having given way to long, green leaves that glinted in the summer sun. A squirrel skittered around us and up a tree trunk.
I chuckled. “Come on. What could the two of you possibly have in common?”
Ella shrugged. “A bit of everything, I suppose. I tell him about my duties, about what I enjoy, about you…”
“About me?” I lifted a brow.
Her eyes crinkled. “Yes, about my best friend in the world. And he listens. And then he tells me about… royal things.”
“Sounds very important.”
She laughed. “Well, I’m not the most articulate about those matters.”
“What’s been on the prince’s mind lately?” I picked at the clover leaves that tickled my ankle.
