Page 49 of Tangled Sails

So I left the dining hall and went down to the servants’ wing. I was making my way to the sewing room when I saw her ahead of me.

“Lyri!” I called as I jogged to catch up with her.

She turned, and a look of pain shot across her face when she saw me, but it was quickly gone, replaced by a carefully blank expression. She sank into a deferential curtsey, which I did not like at all, with a sedate “Your Highness.”

She seemed hollowed out, and I hated it. I missed the girl who had danced with me in the sand. “I…are you well?”

Her brow pulled in. “Well enough.”

I nodded. That was good. “My mother told me that you’ve found a position.”

“I have, yes.”

Why was she responding so simply, so coldly? I studied her face and was not happy with the tension around her eyes and the way the corners of her mouth pulled down. “Are you certain you are well?”

“Why would I not be?” she asked without a hint of a smile.

“I don’t know, you just seem…sad.”

She pressed her lips together and her chin lifted in defiance. “And why would I be sad? Perhaps because you asked your mother to get rid of me?”

I sucked in a breath of horror. I’d been right to worry, then. “I never—”

“Or because I am now sewing ceremonial clothing for you to entertain a princess?” Her brow was raised high and I could see how carefully she was controlling her features.

I wanted to whip myself until I bled. How could I have been so oblivious as to not realize what this situation would look like to her? My arms ached to pull her in while my lips begged me to tell her how much I wanted her, but my own words echoed through my head. I needed her. I needed her because she fixed me, but she deserved so much more than to be used.

“There’s no reason that should upset me, correct?” she asked, her tone acidic. “Because you and I were only ever friends. Right?”

No. The biggest no I’d ever felt, and yet I didn’t say it, because the massiveness of that no was further proof that I shouldn’t pull her back into my orbit. “I…” I had to say something, and I had to do what was best for her. So even though it felt like tearing out my own lungs to say it, I did. “My life is not my own, so as much as I’ve enjoyed our time together, it’s probably a good thing that you’ve found an occupation, because—”

“You have a princess to court,” she finished for me.

“That’s not it.” I wanted to say so much more, but I couldn’t.

Her eyes were pinched as she studied me, as if waiting for me to explain myself, to take away the pain I had caused. But if I said any more, I’d no doubt blurt out my need for her, and she—compassionate creature that she was—would want to help. So I said nothing more, and finally, she shook her head. “If you’ll excuse me, Your Highness.” She sank into a dull curtsey and walked away.

Not chasing after her was physically painful.

I could have told her. I could have confessed that I was doing this for her, that I was trying to right a wrong. I could have told her how selfish I’d been since the moment I’d found her. And I almost had. But I knew how much she resented those who had used her for her healing power, so why would she hate me any less for using her in other ways?

I was appalled with myself for it, and I was certain it would have torn her apart to know I was no better than that worthless friend who’d brought her books only when he needed healing.

So I let her go. Even though everything in my body ached to keep her close, ease her hurt, and let her ease my own disquiet that was piling up inside of me, I let her go.

LYRIELLE

I was scaling a stone wall. Again.

This time though, it wasn’t so high, and I didn’t have my hair to contend with.

I’d decided that it didn’t matter that Tavric had pushed me aside. In fact, it was probably better, because part of me knew that if he had realized I could heal his father, I wouldn’t have been escorted to the servants’ wing. If he knew I could heal his father, Tavric would have kept me close, and I hated knowing that I would have let him. I would have been happy to be nothing but a friend just for the chance to stay with him, and it would have chipped away at me, bit by bit.

Instead, I knew two things. Tavric didn’t want me, and I still wanted to heal King Valtren.

So I had gone to bed in the room I shared with two other servants and waited for the castle to settle. Once my room companions were sound asleep and the noise of the castle had quieted, I went outside and made my way around the castle wall until I could look up and see the balcony that belonged to the king and queen. The height looked similar to the interior walls of my tower that I had climbed so many times, and I was confident I could do it easily.

Well, my head was confident. My body was not. After I’d tucked my skirt tightly into my waistband, my hands reached up and firmly gripped around stones while my right foot wedged into a crevice. I was ready to climb, but a wave of fear rose up, sudden and furious, stealing my breath and making me second-guess this grand plan of mine. But I was determined. The king was going to die otherwise. The healers had done all they could. He’d been given every available draught, herb, and treatment, but it wasn’t enough.