But this was one of the prince’s best friends, his sworn brother. “He is the one who lied. He is the one who manipulated me. From the very start. He knew who I was while pretending to be someone else. He wanted to trick me into this farce of a marriage because he knew he had to have my consent.”
It seemed despite my intentions to keep everything to myself, the words came out anyway.
Dolion nodded, taking in the information I’d given him. “I told him it was a bad idea when he went to Locris. He said he hoped that it would make it easier for you to accept the marriage. It’s important that he gets the throne. We all know that. But I’m not sure that he went about it the right way.”
My heart kept pounding the words “I knew it, I knew it,” over and over again. The prince’s deception went back to the first day in Locris. Dolion had just confirmed it.
“We don’t all agree with what he’s done,” he added. “It seemed unfair to you. This wasn’t the only way. He could have told you who he was.”
I nodded, my throat burning with the desire to cry. It was such a relief to finally know for a fact what had happened, to have someone telling me the actual truth.
“How can you be friends with someone like that?” I asked.
Dolion looked confused. “He is my prince and my phratry. We are sworn to each other. I will serve him and protect him all the days of my life. That doesn’t mean I can’t see what he’s doing. I don’t think that he should treat you like ...”
His voice trailed off, as if he’d been about to say something he shouldn’t. His loyalty was to the prince. I understood that. I was thankful that he’d given me the truth. I had started to feel as if I were going mad.
“Lia, know that you aren’t alone. I would be your friend if you’d allow it. I know what it’s like to be on the outside looking in.”
It was such a relief to feel understood, to feel like someone was on my side. “Thank you.”
I had prayed for friendship. And I was grateful that it was being offered to me.
Chapter Twenty
Over the next few days, I became lonelier and lonelier. The prince had taken to pretending that I did not exist. We did not share meals together and he was gone every single day. I had no idea how he spent his time.
In a way I was thankful for his silence. As the time slowly went by, I became more humiliated by my behavior the morning after the wedding. He could have mocked me for it. At least now I could pretend like it hadn’t happened. Pretend like I didn’t remember every time I closed my eyes what it was like to be in his arms, no barriers between us, our heated skin pressed against one another, his fingers stroking me.
My desire to forget was thwarted by the fact that we continued to share a bed, both of us as far away from one another as we could get.
I would lie awake for hours, waiting for him to fully fall asleep. I’d ponder whether he actually was sleeping, and if I could be quick enough to kill him, knowing I’d never do it because I’d given him my word twice now that I would not. I’d have to wait until after he’d been named king.
So when I did sleep, I was grateful that I didn’t dream and so didn’t have to see him there. I didn’t know why I’d been given a reprieve, but I was thankful for it.
I wrote to my family in Locris. Sometimes several letters a day. I was very careful, knowing that everything would be read. I played along with Alexandros’s scheme, saying I hoped the other Locrian maiden had enjoyed her trip home. I had to hope that he had sent them a letterexplaining so that they weren’t too confused. I also wrote to Demaratus, even though that felt like a waste of time. He wouldn’t read it. I didn’t even know if he could read. I realized that I’d never asked.
Another relationship I would have to improve when I returned.
Parthenia continued to be busy with all the trappings of my new situation. I spent a lot of time with various people making selections I didn’t care about for a life I didn’t want. And because of my disinterest, I became dispensable. The decisions were made without me.
Alexandros didn’t seem pleased by the various pieces of furniture being brought into his room. He made comments about it under his breath every time he returned.
I told him sweetly that I could easily take care of the problem if he would give me my own rooms, but he ignored me.
My boredom and listlessness plagued me, driving me out of my bedroom to explore the palace. I made a mental map, learning where everything was located. If I couldn’t look for the eye here, there was still all of Troas to search. I would have to sneak out. I made note of guards’ shifts and locations, the parts of the outer wall that didn’t seem to be watched as closely.
I didn’t even try to go near the treasury and wouldn’t do so until I had some sort of plan. I was kept away from the servants’ quarters and the kitchens. When I had tried to sneak down via a back staircase, the guards specifically stopped me and said they’d been given orders to keep me out. I had considered, more than once, forcing my way into the kitchens, but if I permanently incapacitated a guard, word would spread. It would draw too much attention to both Quynh and me.
The prince had said he’d gone to great lengths to protect her identity and I wasn’t willing to gamble with her life in case he wasn’t lying about it.
So I had to stew in my anger, hating the invisible boundaries that kept me confined here and not able to do the things I wanted. Alexandros had said I wasn’t a prisoner, but having my movements restricted, my desires thwarted, made me feel like one.
Albeit in a very beautiful cage.
I missed Quynh desperately, and my need to see and speak with her consumed most of my waking thoughts. There were so many times I wanted to demand that he let me talk to her immediately but I worried that the more I asked about her, the more Alexandros would deliberately keep her from me.
There was a massive library and that was where I began to spend most of my time. It was filled with plays, comedies, tragedies, romances. There were books with the kinds of stories Maia had taught us—the heroes and their quests, the monsters they had slain.