Page 55 of Tangled Sails

The applause felt as if it were pounding against my skin as the musicians bowed and then exited. I breathed a little easier once the clapping had stopped.

“That was our last entertainment for the evening,” my mother said. “I do believe it’s time to retire.”

Relief coursed through me. Only a few more minutes, and I could close myself in my chambers and be free of the layers of noise and fabric.

“Already?” Princess Saria asked in dismay. “Can we not have another song? I’m enjoying myself immensely.”

My mother looked startled. Having anyone contradict her after she’d made a statement was near unfathomable for her, and she looked uncertain about what to do. “That might be permissible, if Tavric doesn’t mind.”

She turned the decision over to me, and I was simultaneously grateful and horrified. I could end this here and now…if only I could find my voice.

It had been three days of this. Three days of parading around the grounds and the village with the princess on my arm. Three days of dinners and entertainment with what felt like half the kingdom present. Too much cheer, too much ale, too many people, too much noise. Too much, too much, too much. I’d been on the verge of breaking all day.

Several moments ticked by and I could feel sweat gathering at my brow.

Caelmir leaned close. “Are you well, Brother?” he asked quietly.

If only I could nod, or say yes, or respond in any way in the affirmative and have it not be a lie. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t speak at all, knowing that if I did anything other than maintain the iron grip that I had on my chair and my composure, I’d go flying apart. All of my effort was in controlling my expression as the seam at my shoulder started to rub my arm raw.

What could I do? I had to respond. I was the crown prince, and if I kept sitting here, silent, everyone would know how weak and unfit I was.

“On second thought,” my mother said, “I’m not up for a late night. It’s best we all retire.” And with that, the queen turned and swept from the room, her power and authority written in each line of her gait as she left the grand hall. It was a bit of a spectacle, and one I was incredibly grateful for, as it had shifted everyone’s attention away from me.

I braced myself to turn to Saria and bid her good night. It was the very least I could do. But when I turned in her direction, I found her already in conversation with Dorian.

Caelmir’s hand settled abruptly on my arm and I nearly jumped. “Let’s have a night cap, shall we?” he said in a jovial tone, urging me to my feet and then ushering me out of the hall.

I counted in my head. Five beats as I breathed in, five as I breathed out, forcing my mind on only that simple task until Caelmir pulled me into an empty chamber, just far enough away from the hall that the noise was barely discernible.

The moment the door was closed, I threw off his hand, then my shoulder cape, sash, and shirt, before pacing the room and shaking out my hands.

“Tav—”

“Quiet,” I snapped. “Just…quiet.” I put my palms over my ears and breathed deliberately, appreciating the quiet it provided. If only I had the silk coverlet from my room that I often used to wrap my body tightly. It was the fastest way for me to calm myself, even if I felt ridiculous doing it.

Well, it used to be the fastest. Lately, the quickest way had been Lyri.

After several minutes, I dropped my hands from my ears and then ran my hands through my hair, pulling on it as I tried to come back to my senses.

“I didn’t know it was like this.”

Caelmir’s words forced me to look at him. He stood by the door, wide-eyed and worried.

I cleared my throat, fighting down my embarrassment. “You’ve seen it before.” I’d been sensitive to too much since I was a child.

“Not like this,” he said with conviction. “How long has it been this bad?”

That was easy to answer. “Since Papa got sick. Since I started playing the role of king.” I swiped my shirt from off the floor, thinking I would put it back on, but the way the fabric scraped against my palms made me drop it again. I couldn’t put it back on yet.

He looked at me, clearly wanting to say something but at a loss.

I gave a shrug. “Why do you think I prefer a ship? The wind doesn’t clang. I never have to wear formal robes, and if I ever need complete silence and solitude, I can dive into the water.” I paced some more.

“What do you need?” he asked.

“Lyri.” I spoke before the thought had time to settle.

Caelmir pushed away from the wall. “I’ll go find her.”