by Isobael Liu
“Dear Lord, I hope not,” she gasped.
“You aren’t planning any surprises for the evening meal, are you?”
Amras chuckled.
Lilian groaned. “Oh, no. He is.”
Elena looked at her as they arrived at a set of doors. “Of course, he is. You’re his daughter. He’d want to introduce you to his people.”
“I hope he doesn’t think he’s going to convince me to stay,” she said as they walked into Elena’s receiving room.
Elena made her way to the dressing chamber of her suite. “Perhaps he does. I do know he was very happy to have found you.”
“It was a surprise to me.”
“I can imagine,” Elena called out.
Lilian noticed Khayyam’s attention remained centered on the door where Elena was changing and she grinned.
It didn’t take very long for Elena to change into a different gown and come back out. It was burgundy with matching slippers and fit her form very well. Khayyam seemed to approve by the way he looked at her, which caused Elena to blush.
The three of them made a rather grand appearance into the dining hall. Amras stood with a few of his lords, conversing, but when she walked in, the resulting wave of silence had him turning to see what had caused such a disturbance with the crowd. Upon seeing her, his brows lifted and burst into laughter.
“I see you are going to be a handful, daughter.”
Lilian grinned. “Of course, I’m your daughter after all.”
He motioned her over and Elena gave her arm a light squeeze before wandering off to her friends. She was sure they would interrogate Elena about her, but she had faith in Elena’s restraint.
Lilian made her way over to her father, Khayyam following behind her. Silence followed them; many of the people stared in shock at her clothing and the weapon she carried.
“I’m not changing and I’m not removing the dirk,” she stated, defiant.
Amras smiled. “No one’s demanded you to. If it makes you feel safer, then carry it.”
Tears prickled in her eyes. Amras understood her reasons for needing to make herself feel safe.
He held an arm out to her and when she neared, drew her in, holding her in a one-armed hug.
“This is my daughter, Lilian. I hope you treat her with respect.”
The men bowed, although they never once looked away from her.
“She is your daughter, King Amras. She looks just like you,” one said.
The other agreed with the speaker.
“I would hope she is prettier,” Amras said in a wry tone, and chuckled.
“You’ve recently gone through your Chrysalis?” one asked her.
“Lord Gaeris,” Amras said.
Lilian nodded. “Yes.”
“So you still need guidance,” Gaeris said.
“I believe Calawe was appointed to be my tutor,” she said.
The group glanced toward Calawe, who must have felt himself being watched because he looked up and around until he found the source. Seeing her, his brows lifted in shock.
“Oh, this will be fun,” Amras said under his breath, amused, although she detected a hint of sarcasm in his tone.
Lilian looked away from Calawe and toward her father.
“Excuse me?” She folded her arms. “You aren’t planning anything, or hoping anything will happen between him and I, are you? I am mated, remember.”
“That remains to be seen, but until then, you can still have fun.”
“Fun? What kind of fun? Please tell me you don’t think I’d just…have sex…with others?” The heat from a blush came over her face and she glared at Amras, blaming him.
Amras burst into laughter and led her to where they would sit for the meal. He was still laughing when he seated her and took his seat beside her. Khayyam sat at a lower table, but kept her in close proximity and within eyesight.
Once settled, everyone else followed suit, and the meal was served. She was awed by the amount and different types of food offered. Fruits like she’d never seen came in on platters, large bowls of soups, trenchers of meats, everything anyone could imagine, and it was there. Her father kept watching her reactions, smiling, until she glared at him.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were doing this on purpose.”
He blinked oh so innocently. “Doing what on purpose?”
She gestured to the display. “Trying to impress me.”
“Me? How could you think such a thing?”
Lilian lifted a brow and he laughed.
“I will admit to this,” he replied. “I wanted to show you everything about my home.”
“It’s wasteful, this much food,” she whispered.
“Nothing goes to waste here. What does not get served to the Court is served to the servants. They are allowed to take what they wish home to their families. The bones are cooked for soup stocks. Fruits are cooked into desserts, vegetables added to soups. Nothing is wasted. Or, very little is.”
Lilian was a little relieved at partaking in such a huge affair after it had been explained, and allowed herself to enjoy the meal.
Conversations flowed around her and even though she couldn’t pretend to know anything in order to join in, she enjoyed listening to her father as he dealt with the people of his kingdom.
After the food was cleared away, she began to tire. The excitement of coming here with her father, and the adrenaline rush of being in a new place, seeing how his people, their people, lived had carried her up until now, but it had faded and exhaustion set in.
Music began to play and tables were moved back to open up the floor for dancing. Khayyam came up to stand behind her as she watched, relaxing as the music soaked into her mind and her body.
Calawe approached and spoke with her father, but she ignored him. She didn’t feel up pretending to be polite to him, but was startled out of her drifting when he stepped in front of her and bowed. “Would you care to dance?” He didn’t sound as though he had wanted to ask.
Lilian blinked at him. “I don’t know how to dance.”
“A perfect time to learn,” Amras said.
Ahh. Her father had put him up to it. Figures.
Lilian sighed and stood up. Calawe walked around to meet her at the end of the table and offered her his hand. She took it and he led her to the open floor, where in a polite but succinct tone, showed her the position, and began to explain the steps.
“You know, you don’t have to do this,” she thought to him.
He looked surprised and lifted his brow. “I have no idea what you mean.”
Lilian snorted. “You’re a liar and not a very good one at that. Look, I know you don’t approve of me being here and I don’t care. I’m here because my father asked me to come.”
Lilian detected a wave of derision come from Calawe before he replied.
“You don’t care about the kingdom or the people therein. You’re just here because you thought being a princess might be fun and then you’ll go back to wherever it is you came from,” he accused.
Lilian bristled. “You know nothing about me. From the way you’ve treated me, I don’t care for you to know me. I have a mate in my world. I’m not here for anything but my father and to learn about this part of who I am and where my father came from. If you don’t like it, then you can go sit and spin.”
“You assume I want to get to know you, Highness.” She could feel the disgust of his having to use the title in regards to her.
Enough was enough. Without thinking, she reached up and touched his temple. Before he could jerk back from her, she sent him her memories of her recent past and the battle with Ulwe. She sent him her emotions, the physical and mental pain of the attack, of the battle, and what she had gone through with the Chrysalis, although in a watered down form. She then jerked her hand away.
“Don't you ever presume to judge me. Until you've walked a few miles in my shoes, you will never understand what I've been through, nor will you ever get the chanc
e to!”
Lilian pushed him away from her and with one final glare, turned to walk back to her father. She saw Khayyam frowning, unsure if he should intervene, but he remained where he stood, leaving it to her to indicate if she needed or wanted his help.
A hand settled on her shoulder. “Highness…”
She didn’t let him get any farther. She reached up with the hand opposite of the shoulder he had touched, grabbed Calawe by the wrist, spun and jerked, which pulled him through a flip over her shoulder. He landed on his back on the marble floor with a loud thud.
“If you ever touch me again, you’ll be sorry,” she snapped at him.
She noticed the music had stopped and silence had fallen in the room. She straightened, smoothed down her tunic, glanced around, and headed back to her father.
“Dare I ask?”
“You can dare but I’ll probably just tell you off.”
Amras laughed.
“I’m tired. I’d like to go to bed now.”
Amras stood and came around the table to her. “Come.” He offered her his arm and she took it, grateful for the support. She could still feel everyone staring at her and she was too drained to put up a positive demeanor.
With Khayyam following behind, Amras led her out of the Hall.
* * * *
Matthias showered and returned to his room to dress. When he stopped by Lilian’s room on the way out, she had already gone. He debated on going to find her, but decided against it. He needed the time away from her in order to think. He blocked her out of his mind as well, to keep his own thoughts to himself.
Matthias was confused and scattered, and he needed to think without her present. He spent the next few hours being with his people, doing his Alpha duties. He consoled those who had lost someone and visited with the wounded to ensure they were healing or, in some cases, already healed. Matthias gave his thanks and his praise to the warriors that fought with him and for him. The bodies of two fallen warriors burned on the funerary pyre, Matthias gave eulogies and honored their sacrifice.
Quite a few people asked after his mate and guilt wormed its way further into his gut. Perhaps he had been a bit harsh with her. After all, she had nearly died and forced to undergo the Chrysalis against her will. She was still his mate. He made a mental note to speak with her during lunch.
When she hadn’t shown up for lunch, he figured she was with her father, sequestered away for privacy. He paced, undecided on whether to interrupt or give them more time alone. They both needed some time and if she was with Amras, they were probably talking Sidhe business. So, he let her be.
However, by the evening meal and still no sign of her, Matthias became concerned. He tried to reach her through their mental connection, but there was nothing. Frowning, he headed to her room, expecting to see Khayyam camped outside the door, but when he approached, there was no one.
He knocked on her door and received no answer. He knocked again, and when he heard no reply, he opened the door and stepped in. Worry gripped his stomach and held tight as he looked around, but nothing was out of place.
Where could she be?
When his eyes fell across the bed, he saw the envelope propped up on her pillow.
Matthias had a sinking feeling in his gut when he walked toward the envelope and saw his name across the front.
No, please.
He opened the envelope and pulled out the letter. As he read it, his heart jolted as though it would stop.
She left me. Lilian ’s left me.
Pain gave way to rage as it exploded and burned like wildfire. It took hold and spread through his mind. He lifted his head and roared out his anger and his pain.
* * * *
Lilian jolted awake with a stabbing pain in her heart. Her heart beat too fast in her chest, like a panic attack. Was it fear? Anger? Was she in danger? She rolled over and grabbed the dirk she had set beside her on the bed and waited.
Nothing.
She sent out psychic tendrils, to try and feel for any danger, but found nothing.
After a bit, she collapsed back onto the bed and tried to even her breathing, to slow it down to a normal pace so she didn’t feel like her heart would jump out of her chest.
What had woken her?
She surged upward, worried. Matthias? Was it Matthias?
Lilian tried to contact him but their connection was weak. What she could feel was muted, but she picked up on his rage and his pain. Had he found her letter?
“Leave it be, daughter.”
“Father, he’s hurting. He still cares.”
“Let him come to you, if he does. Let him show it.”
Lilian lay back down, frowning.
“Trust me.”
It took some time before she fell back to sleep.
The next morning, her two maids woke her, opened the drapery, wrestled her for the covers, and got her out of bed, bathed, and dressed. During which she grumbled, cursed, and threatened, to no avail.
She heard Khayyam’s muffled laughter as the maids stuffed her into a corset and gown with her commentary, but when she walked out of the room and into view, no sign of amusement remained on his face.
“Lady, I’m going to have to beat the men off you now.”
It might have been a compliment, but the way he said it made it sound as though he was resigned to the future battles he’d have to fight.
Lilian blushed, but waved off his words, only to invite him to eat with her. He joined her with no hesitation.
Before leaving her room, she was quite adamant about wearing the dirk. With great reluctance, the maids helped her wrap the sash.
She was quite lucky to have worn it. Without it, she would have taken a tumble down the stairs if Khayyam hadn’t grabbed the sash and kept her upright.
Lilian cursed the gown, the corset, and anything having to do with being a princess. Amras’s burst of laughter could be heard coming from one of the meeting rooms nearby.
The first lesson of the day was deportment. She found out she had to learn how to walk in a gown, to move with grace and elegance. Personally, she thought she walked just fine, but she supposed being a princess meant she had to walk in a different way than normal.
“If I have to wave, I’m rebelling.”
“Wave?”
“You know, parade princess waves.”
Amras was confused; she could feel it in his response, and so she showed him. He burst into laughter.
“No, no waving.”
The second lesson of the day was curtsying. She all but rolled her eyes at the thought.
“I’m not curtsying.”
“But you must learn how. Each title has a certain bow and while you’ll only have to curtsy to your father and the High King, you should still learn.”
“Okay, but I’m wearing a corset and it’s not exactly the best thing for bending the back.”
“You aren’t supposed to bend.”
Lilian sent the mental image of strangling her father to him.
The third lesson was her language lessons with Calawe.
The moment he walked in, she stiffened and her eyes narrowed.
He bowed to her. “Princess.”
She heard no sense of derision, no disgust in his tone.
Hmm.
“Our language is difficult to learn if you are not Sidhe,” he began as he motioned at the chairs. “Please sit down, Princess.”
Lilian was too glad to sit. One could only learn to glide as if floating, and curtsy without bending for so long before one had to just give it a rest.
“Fortunately, as you have been through the Chrysalis, the language is there, in your mind, sleeping. It only needs to be awakened.”
Lilian eyed him. “You are not getting into my head.”
Calawe nodded once, although there was a glint of amusement in his eyes.
“I mean it, Calawe.”
“I believe you, Princess. You must do it yourself then.”
“Where would I find it?”
Calawe shrugged. “I do not know. Each person is different.”
She glanced at Khayyam and back at Calawe. “You know what I can do. Don’t mess with me.”
Calawe smiled. “It would be an honor to die by your hand.”
Lilian wasn’t sure how to take his words, so she ignored it. Without closing her eyes, she went within.
To her delight, she found it much easier than before.
There was a brushing at her mind, a knock of sorts. Calawe was trying to speak with her. She let him in only at the surface and no further.
“Have you found it yet?”
“I just started.”
“Look through your memories. Sift through it for something not there before. It will feel as though it belongs, but you will not remember ever seeing it before.”
Lilian began the search, while keeping Calawe at the center of her attention. He might find it amusing, but she didn’t trust him yet.
“Nothing.”
“Look deeper.”
Lilian frowned and resumed her search. Her concentration was broken when she saw Calawe move. Well, saw wasn’t the right term. She felt his movement as ripples in a current of air and she shoved him out of her mind as she surged up, furious.
Calawe laughed, his eyes twinkling. “You are too sensitive. Sit down and try again.”
Lilian glared at him. “Don’t play with me, Calawe. I have no problem with blasting you through a wall. After Ulwe, I don’t trust anyone in my head.”
Calawe shook his head. “If anyone has the right to distrust, it’s me. You are newly Sidhe and you come here, a princess. What are your intentions?”
“I already told you.”
Calawe motioned her to sit again. “Let us try another way. I will teach you a few words. After which, go within and see if you can find where the memory is being stored.”
Lilian eased back down in the chair and sighed. “All right.”
Calawe pointed to the table. “Tardi.”
She repeated the word.
“Jhyli,” he said as he pointed to a chair.
On and on, he gave her words, tested her memory by having her repeat them. She stumbled, she gave the wrong word, she mispronounced them, but he drove her on until she had them down and she gave the right answers with the right pronunciation.
