Page 6 of Seas and Scepters

"Yes," she said quickly, relief evident in her voice."Thank you."

We walked back through the palace in the same oppressive quiet that had marked our entire encounter.When we reached the guest wing where she was staying, she curtsied once more—flawlessly executed, emotionally vacant—and disappeared behind her door without another word.

I stood in the empty corridor for a long moment, listening to the echo of my own breathing.Three weeks.In three weeks, I would pledge my life to a woman who could barely stand to be in the same room with me.In three weeks, I would speak vows of love and devotion while knowing that she would close her eyes and think of duty every time I touched her.

The weight of my future pressed down on me like the waters of the deepest ocean.I needed escape, needed some respite from the suffocating reality of my fate.Without conscious thought, my feet carried me away from the royal quarters and toward the servants' passages that would lead me to the stables.

An hour later, I was riding through the narrow streets of Vaelthorne's lower districts, a dark cloak pulled low over my head to hide my identity and my scars.The city was different here—rougher, more honest in its vices and pleasures.Merchants hawked their wares from wooden stalls, children played in the dusty streets, and the air was thick with the smells of cooking food and unwashed bodies.

No one here cared about royal bloodlines or political marriages.No one studied my face for signs of weakness or calculated the advantages of my affection.In the shadows of the pleasure district, I could almost pretend to be someone else—someone who might be worthy of love.

Madam Lydia's establishment stood at the end of a quiet street, its elegant facade disguising the nature of the business conducted within.Unlike the crude brothels that catered to sailors and common soldiers, this house offered discretion and refinement to those who could afford such luxuries.The windows were curtained with rich fabric, the door was painted a deep burgundy, and everything about the building whispered of secrets kept and desires fulfilled.

I had been coming here for months, seeking the temporary comfort that only paid affection could provide.It was not love—we all understood that—but it was warmth, and tenderness, and the illusion that someone might find pleasure in my touch rather than merely enduring it.

The doorman recognized me despite my hood and ushered me inside without question.The interior was decorated in shades of gold and crimson, with thick carpets that muffled footsteps and oil paintings that depicted scenes of pastoral beauty rather than the crude images one might expect.Everything was designed to create an atmosphere of luxury and refinement.

"Your Highness," Madam Lydia appeared as if summoned by magic, her dark eyes warm with genuine concern.She was a handsome woman in her middle years, with graying auburn hair and the kind of worldly wisdom that came from years of managing both people and secrets."How good to see you again."

I pushed back my hood and managed what I hoped was a smile."Madam Lydia.I hope I am not intruding."

"Never," she said firmly, taking my cloak with efficient grace."You are always welcome here.But..."She studied my face with the sharp gaze of someone accustomed to reading men's moods and needs."You look troubled tonight, if I may say so.More than usual."

I could not deny it.The strain of the day—the wedding negotiations, Astrid's barely concealed revulsion, the looming certainty of my loveless future—had left me feeling raw and desperate.

"Perhaps," I admitted."It has been...a difficult few days."

Madam Lydia nodded knowingly."Affairs of state can be particularly burdensome for men in your position.The weight of responsibility, the need to always appear strong..."She guided me toward her private sitting room, away from the common areas where other clients might be entertained."I trust our usual arrangements have been satisfactory?"

I thought of the gentle women who had shared my bed in recent months—all of them kind, all of them skilled in the arts of pleasure, all of them paid to pretend that my scars did not matter.They had given me what comfort they could, but even the sweetest pretense could not fill the hollow ache in my chest.

"Yes," I said."Always.Your ladies are...most gracious."

"But?"Madam Lydia's sharp eyes missed nothing."Forgive me, Your Highness, but you seem...unsatisfied.Not with the physical arrangements, I think, but with something deeper.Are we failing to meet your needs adequately?"

The question hung in the air between us.How could I explain that no amount of skilled touch could heal the loneliness that gnawed at my soul?How could I tell her that what I truly craved was not pleasure but acceptance—not passion but simple human connection unburdened by duty or fear?

"I..."I began, then stopped.The words felt too dangerous to speak aloud, too revealing of the weakness that lurked beneath my royal facade.

Madam Lydia waited patiently, her expression kind but professional.Finally, she spoke again, her voice gentle with understanding.

"Your Highness, if I may be so bold...sometimes a man needs more than skilled hands and willing flesh.Sometimes he needs someone who can see past the surface, who can offer not just physical comfort but emotional sanctuary."She paused, considering her words carefully."As it happens, I will be welcoming a new girl to our establishment very soon.Someone...special.Someone who I believe might be exactly what you need."

I looked up sharply, surprised by the certainty in her voice.Madam Lydia was not given to empty promises or false hope.If she believed this new woman might be different, then perhaps...

"When?"I asked, hating the eager desperation I heard in my own voice.

"Soon," she promised."Within the week, I should think.And Your Highness...I give you my word that this girl will not disappoint you.I will make sure of it."

The words stirred something in my chest that I had thought long dead.Hope.Fragile and probably foolish, but hope nonetheless.

"I..."I swallowed hard, fighting against the emotion that threatened to overwhelm me."I would be grateful for such a meeting."

"Then it shall be arranged," Madam Lydia said firmly."In the meantime, would you like some wine?Some simple conversation?You need not be alone with your troubles tonight."

I nodded, suddenly exhausted by the weight of holding myself together through the day's ordeals.For a little while, at least, I could set aside the burden of being a prince and simply exist as a man seeking comfort in a world that offered precious little of it.

Three weeks until my wedding.Three weeks until I would be bound forever to a woman who saw me as a duty to be endured rather than a man to be loved.

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