Ladies, Lords, & Liars

Chapter Twenty-Six: Condemned

   "What exactly did you want to talk to me about again?" Aeric asked, keeping the tremble out of his voice.

   He still didn't know what it was that made him fear the Lord before him, but now he knew that the fear was justified. This man had the authority of both royals combined, which meant he could very well do as he pleased with Aeric. He had to be careful.

   "Oh, nothing terribly important. Just about that autumn festival, we were planning." He waved a hand through the air dismissively, the movement stirring the smoke that hung thickly in the center of the room. His eyes said differently, though. Something lurked there, beneath the surface.

   "Then you won't mind it if I left? All this smoke is making me lightheaded." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't all of the truth either. He mostly just wanted to put as much distance between himself and Quintin Faust as he possibly could.

   "If you really must." His expression darkened again, only to clear again just a second later.

   "Uh, yeah." He shook his head and stood up. He felt Quintin's eyes on him as he took the first couple steps.

   "Oh, Kellen?"

   The words stopped him in his tracks. He turned.

   "Be careful with the princess. She can be quite the handful sometimes. Some say she's not quite right in the head." The same darkness was gathering like storm clouds, just under the surface of his eyes.

   His only response was to turn and walk quickly towards the door. He was out in the hall shortly, but it still felt like he'd spent far too long under the piercing gaze of Lord Faust. He felt goosebumps rising on his arms and he shook himself in a futile attempt to get rid of them. He was probably just being silly.

   Had the words about the princess come from anyone else, it might have solidified an idea in his mind that she was crazy, but coming from Lord Faust, he couldn't help but think that they were anything but true.

   He stood there for a moment, taking a couple of deep breaths to regain his composure. Surely he was only imagining the sinister look buried in Lord Faust's eyes. It was certainly possible. He'd been under more than enough stress.

   He briefly considered not going back in. It would be so much easier to just retreat to the garden again, or to his room, maybe even to the library to grab more books that caught his interest. But he knew that he should go back in, if for no other reason than to try and convince Kyra that he wasn't evil. He took a deep breath and ducked back into the hazy meeting room.

   The smoke was just as bad—if not worse—than he remembered, and he choked on it immediately. He stifled the coughs and made his way back to the corner where he'd been sitting with Kyra. He half-hoped that Quintin didn't notice his return, or at the very least that the older man would leave him alone.

   He was almost surprised to see that Kyra hadn't moved. He didn't know why, but he had assumed that she would move after he got up. But then again, that made no sense. She had been there first.

   But even more shocking was the glare souring her expression. She was fuming, if her face was any indication. He sat down slowly, almost cautiously.

   "I knew it," she growled out. She looked and sounded like she was hardly holding herself back from strangling him.

   "Knew what?" he tried to recall if there was anything he'd said or done recently... but she had only just been trying to decide whether or not to trust him. The only thing that had happened between then and now was his conversation with Quintin.

   "Don't play dumb." Her face twitched and she took a deep breath. She was very, very mad. And that wasn't good at all. How was he supposed to convince her that he wasn't a spy if she wouldn't even listen to a word he said over her raging temper?

   "I'm not playing dumb, I—" His own thoughts cut him off. He'd suddenly remembered again the conversation after the dance. She didn't just hate Quintin because he was the real power behind the throne. He wanted to marry her. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten it, especially when he'd only just been thinking over the very same information not five minutes previous.

   "Just stop lying." She spoke through gritted teeth. Her face was twisted into a grimace, but her eyes were now downturned. "I already know who you are, just admit it."

   "I swear, Kyra-" he was only able to get those three words out before she suddenly lashed out. Her hand seemed to move in slow motion, but he was still unable to move before it connected solidly with his face.

   It was loud, but no one in the room noticed, and if they did, they didn't seem to care very much.

   His head slapped solidly to the side and he blinked, the words dying in his throat. She was still fuming, her eyes somehow simultaneously as cold as ice but hotter than fire.

   "Drop it." her voice was low, dangerous. Her face, which seemed almost delicate normally, was now a mask of anger. He felt his breath catch. Why didn't she understand? Couldn't she see that he wasn't even from Rindenglade, much less a spy for them?

   Before he could even make another futile attempt at convincing her, she got up and stormed from the room. Maybe it was for the best that she did. He had a feeling that no matter what he might have said, she wouldn't have believed a word. He was condemned in her eyes. Quintin was right when he said she was a handful.

   He sighed and reached up a hand to touch the spot where she'd slapped him. It was still burning, but not just with the sting of the blow. He should have just been able to let go and accept that the princess didn't like him, but he couldn't. The hatred in her eyes burned him more than it should have.

   There was a second when he half-rose to his feet to run after her, but then he reminded himself of the anger. This wasn't a trivial matter to her. She clearly cared deeply about this, and from what he was able to piece together, she thought he was actively trampling all over her and her feelings on the matter. He would probably only manage to make things worse if he tried to follow.

   If it was at all possible, he wanted to prove his innocence. But that was probably the biggest if in history. Her eyes certainly told him that it was a lost cause. He would still try, though. Maybe he would even try up until the moment he left the palace.