Sir Lorcan's POV
Flynd seemed to have forgiven me and for this, I was incredibly glad. When I paged for him, I'd been worried he wouldn't meet me at all. And I wouldn't have blamed him—not much, at least.
I could tell he still harbored a level of distrust, which was irritating. Flynd could hold a grudge well. He took after his father in that regard, one of the few things they had in common.
It also didn't help that he hadn't seemed to take me seriously when I spoke about her. I'd given him that information in confidence, confidence that he would inquire about her—actually care—but he probably thought she was another silly infatuation. But he was wrong. This was different, it was something much deeper. This woman, this girl, this beautiful maid—I had to have her.
I saw her when I was making my way to sparring practice. She had been marveling at the Banquet Hall while her friend aimlessly twirled around. From my distance, I couldn't see their faces, but I was curious.
As I approached them, I was immediately fixated by her appearance. She was reserved, I could tell, but beautiful nonetheless. The way her chestnut hair curled around her face. The way her dazzling blue eyes had sparked in surprise when she saw me. It had been so amusing when she pretended they were cleaning.
I had wanted to ask her to meet with me, in some place more clandestine, but her friend had been a strong deterrent. The frail-looking girl had seemed frightened out of her wits. No, I needed the maid alone.
If only I had asked for her name first.
...
As the morning turned into afternoon, and I finished exercising with several other knights, I did some investigating. This would be no easy feat, finding one maid out of thousands, but it had to be done if I ever planned on seeing her again.
The first thought that came to mind was checking the kitchens. I was somewhat forbidden there, it was a sort of unspoken rule that people of status, even a lesser status like mine, didn't enter the kitchens. Though, in the past, I'd gone multiple times with other crafty maids and aside from disdainful glances, no punishments had arisen from it.
As I made my way to the kitchens, I made sure I wasn't being followed. It wouldn't be good for my image if I was caught by a gossipy noblewoman—that is to say Lady Eora—and had my activities told to the King.
He would be furious if he discovered this habit of mine, going into places I wasn't allowed. I could never tell if King Renyld hated or loved me; sometimes, he would roar in anger when he discovered my not-so-discrete hobbies, and other times, he was far more lenient with me than anyone else. Including his own son.
I suppose it worked to my advantage. But it was strange being treated like his child when he had another son who he rarely interacted with outside of politics.
In the kitchens, I did not find the mysterious maid. However, I did find her friend, the golden-haired girl who had been scared out of her wits. She was sweeping, and I was standing there watching her like a perverted nobleman.
"Excuse me—" I began.
She shrieked in surprise; she hadn't noticed me until I spoke. The girl began backing to the wall, trying to create distance between us. Goodness, she was afraid. I could tell it was a deep fear that was probably rooted in something tragic.
Knowing that actions spoke louder than words, I remained calm so she would too. "I'm not here to hurt you."
Eventually after she noticed I wasn't moving, or trying to get closer, she relaxed—but only in the slightest. "I just wanted to ask a question."
She seemed anxious for me to leave and nodded vigorously, as if telling me to get on with it.
"Your friend, I met you and her several days ago in the Banquet Hall. Remember?"
Her large, observant eyes only stared at me.
"I was wondering...uh..." I slowed down as I realized how odd I must have appeared. Asking a maid for her friend's name. But I couldn't stop now, not when I'd gotten this far. "What is her name?"
Her eyes widened in confusion though she answered anyway. "Bl-Blanyr."
"And, where...where could I find her?"
"What?"
"I..." I started, trying to create a believable lie to assure her. Unfortunately, nothing came to mind. So, I chose honesty in the hopes that it would garner more sympathy for my pathetic plight. "The truth is...I find your friend intriguing, and I wanted to meet her. I know it sounds strange but my plan isn't to take advantage at all."
"She might be in the laundry rooms," She whispered softly. "With the other maids..."
"Thank you, thank you greatly!" I exclaimed, already exiting the kitchens in my excitement.
Soon enough, after some direction from servants, I found the laundry rooms. Her firend had implied there would be other maids here, so I had to ensure privacy. Fortunately, right as I approached, the beautiful maid, Blanyr, came out.
At recognizing me, she gasped. "S-Sir..."
She curtsied while carrying a basket of white linen. I bowed in turn, much to her surprise. "Good afternoon, m'lady."
She blushed with a small smile. "I'm no lady."
This was the most delicate part.
I didn't want to unnerve her by being too overt, but I also wanted to show my interest was more than platonic. So, I made a teasing remark, "I see you're still 'cleaning'."
"Yes, of course," She laughed. "The Banquet Hall was just the beginning."
I tried not to grin too wide. This would be almost too easy for my own good. "We share a good rapport, Miss Blanyr."
"How did you know my name?" She giggled, her eyes filling with a curious excitement. "I never gave it to you."
"I have connections," I said, making sure not to mention her friend. "As you can tell, I'm deeply interested in you. And I wanted to know if we could meet again? Sometime when you aren't busy."
She nodded eagerly. Almost too eagerly. Surely it couldn't be this easy? I'd never had to do such little work before. "Yes, I'd love to."
"Say, the library? Tomorrow at four?" I offered.
"Y-yes," She answered, seeming very flustered. But in a good way.
...
Ayan's POV
As my ladies-in-waiting prepared me for dinner, Blanyr mentioned someone. A nobleman who had spoken to them several days ago. "He was a little strange," She said.
Ailis nodded quietly. "He caught us dancing in the Banquet Hall."
"He caught you dancing in the Banquet Hall," Blanyr laughed. "I was just looking at it."
"Do you know his name?" I asked.
The brown-haired maid pondered a moment, before a look of alarm flashed across her face. As if she should have asked and was deeply regretting it. "No... I don't..."
"Perhaps you know him, Your Highness?" Ailis suggested. "He has dark brown hair. Not as dark as Prince Flynd's but similar."
"Yes," Blanyr agreed. "And he has tan skin. It's almost brown."
I blinked. Only one "nobleman" I knew had those characteristics. And he was a vulture. "Is he calm?" I asked. "Almost, too calm?"
"Yes." AIlis answered. "It's unnerving."
I frowned. "...I think that was Sir Lorcan."
They stared at each other before Blanyr spoke, "But...but wouldn't I have recognized him?"
"Have you ever met him?"
She shook her head. Her eyes were filled with a deep disappointment. For what reason, I wasn't sure. "I haven't but I thought...I thought if I saw him..."
"He doesn't seem like a selfish person," I explained. "But he is."
The woman grew quiet, her good mood completely soured by the revelation. Ailis watched her, aware of something I wasn't. But I wouldn't pry, it was clear they didn't want me to know.
...
At dinner I received a Meretian meal.
A steaming plate of sebati.
When I looked at Flynd, who like everyone else, was eating Aranian food, he didn't say a word. Even when the other noblemen were yelling about politics and we had the opportunity to speak, he kept filling his mouth with food so I couldn't question him.
Utterly ridiculous.
Eventually, when I realized Flynd was actively avoiding a conversation, I angrily tuned my ears to King Renyld, who as always, was discussing something political, "Spies shouldn't always be executed. At least, not before a fair trial."
"With all due respect, Your Highness, they're treasonists. Betraying one's kingdom is unforgivable, they deserve nothing less than death." Sir Declan countered. As I'd quickly discovered, he was always countering the King with "all due respect".
I watched, wanting to speak but knowing that even though I was in the midst of their conversation, and keenly aware of its implications, my opinion wasn't valued. Indeed, Sir Declan had shown remorse for previous actions but my ego was still quite bruised from the ordeal.
"Princess, what do you think?"
My heart froze in my chest at the mention of my title. What did I think? Who had asked that? I scanned the table, making eye contact with Sir Declan. The upturn of his lips and eagerness in his expression told me he was the culprit. "I... I hardly think that's appropriate..."
"Nonsense!" Sir Declan laughed. "You're the Princess. It is certainly appropriate."
I nervously avoided King Renyld's stern expression that was warning me. "I...I..."
As I tried to articulate some remnant of an opinion, all I could remember was the humiliation and anger I'd felt the first time I spoke in front of these men. I was thankful for Sir Declan's support, but it wasn't enough.
And then Flynd finally said something. For the first time since dinner began. "What do you think, Ayan?"
...
"You're very intelligent," Prince Flynd told me as we walked to my chambers. He had insisted on accompanying me for reasons I couldn't pinpoint. Or rather, reasons I didn't want to pinpoint.
"Thank you." I murmured. I didn't fully agree with him, but I welcomed compliments.
"Anyhow," He said playfully. "How did you like your dinner?"
I snapped my gaze at him, glaring. "You!"
"What?" He laughed, reveling in my anger.
"Did you tell the kitchens to make sebati?" We had come to my room, so I stopped in front of it, crossing my arms to show him I was truly annoyed. "Because I certainly didn't."
"Perhaps I did. How did it taste?"
"Mediocre."
He nodded. "That's fair. They've never made anything other than 'Nechi' food as you call it."
I shook my head at his terrible accent. "Nechi."
"Nechi," He repeated.
I wrinkled my face. Why was he being so amicable? It was so unlike him. It was almost...frustrating. "Whatever you're trying to do, please stop."
He looked me in the eye, his expression turning from amused to serious within seconds. "Never."