Chapter 46
The gardens were my only solace in the strange palace, a quiet sanctuary amidst the whirlwind of scrutiny and expectation. I wandered the paths in the early morning light, letting the cool breeze and fragrant blossoms soothe my nerves. The events of the previous day lingered in my mind, Lucian's proposal a storm I couldn't yet fathom.
Why would he propose to me?
Me of all people?
It didn’t make sense to me. At all. I had barely been in the palace for a week and I was already getting marriage proposals from the second Prince.
I reached the willow tree by the reflecting pool and leaned against its trunk, staring at my distorted reflection in the water. My thoughts spiralled. I came to Zaire for revenge. And that was the only thing on my mind. It was the only thing I could think of.
The sound of footsteps on the gravel path drew my attention. I looked up to see King Rowan approaching, his dark hair tousled as if he'd just come from the training yard. His presence, as always, sent a ripple through my chest, equal parts comfort and unease.
"Lady Arin," he greeted, his voice warm but cautious.
"Your Majesty," I replied, inclining my head.
He gestured toward the bench near the pool. "May I join you?"
I hesitated for only a moment before nodding. "Of course."
Rowan sat, his posture relaxed but his eyes keen as they studied me. "You seem preoccupied this morning."
I offered a faint smile. "Palace life is... overwhelming at times."
He nodded, his expression softening. "It takes some adjustment. I imagine it's quite different from life in Braam."
At the mention of my supposed homeland, my stomach tightened. I had expected this, expected the questions and all about my supposed life in Braam, but it didn’t make it any easier. I lowered my gaze to the water, trying to mask my discomfort. "It is, Your Majesty. Very different."
Rowan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Tell me more about Braam. I've only heard scattered accounts—stories of its mountains and the great fortress at its heart. What was it like growing up there?"
I swallowed hard, carefully crafting my response. "It's... beautiful. Rugged, with endless forests and rivers that seem to stretch on forever. The fortress you mentioned is a marvel of engineering, built into the cliffs themselves."
Rowan smiled, his expression wistful. "It sounds remarkable. I'd like to see it someday."
"Perhaps you will," I said, my voice steadier now. "Though it's not an easy journey to get there in there in the first place."
His smile faltered slightly, his gaze sharpening. "You speak of it with such vividness, yet there's a distance in your tone. As if the memories are... painful."
My chest tightened, panic bubbling beneath the surface. It was not the memories of Braam that were painful, but the memories of my life in Zaire. How awful they had been. "Braam holds many memories for me," I lied carefully. "Not all of them are pleasant."
Rowan seemed to sense the edge in my voice, and he leaned back slightly, giving me space. "I didn't mean to pry," he said softly.
Before I could respond, the sound of rustling skirts interrupted us. I turned to see Queen Isabelle approaching, her regal figure cutting an imposing silhouette against the morning light.
"My King," she called, her tone crisp but not unkind. Her gaze flicked to me briefly, and though her expression remained neutral, I felt the weight of her scrutiny.
"Queen," Rowan greeted, rising to his feet. "You're up early."
She smiled faintly, her lips barely curving. "The palace doesn't sleep, and neither should its queen." Her attention shifted to me, and I quickly stood, dropping into a curtsey.
"Your Majesty," I said.
"Lady Arin," she acknowledged, her tone measured. "I hope you're finding your stay in the palace agreeable."
"Yes, Your Majesty. Everyone has been most accommodating."
Her eyes lingered on me for a moment longer before she turned back to Rowan. "A word, if you please, Your Majesty."
Rowan glanced at me, his brow furrowing slightly, but he nodded. "Of course."
"I'll take my leave," I said quickly, sensing that my presence was no longer welcome.
Rowan opened his mouth as if to protest, but Queen Isabelle placed a hand on his arm, effectively ending the conversation. I offered a polite nod and retreated down the path, my heart pounding in my chest.
As I walked away, I couldn't help but glance back over my shoulder. The queen was speaking to her husband in hushed tones, her expression unreadable.
After a while, I watched the King walk away without sparing me a glance. Queen Isabelle approached me, a small smile on her face.
“What is it are you exactly doing Lady Arin?”
She asked and I shrugged.
“I’m sorry. I don’t quite follow. What do you mean?”
“I mean you. What are you doing? It is clear you have some hidden agenda”
“Agenda?!” I scoffed.
“Your Majesty I was invited here by King Rowan. If someone has an agenda here, it is clearly him.”
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