Page 26 of Lost Heir
My brother shook his head. “That was different, Lyanna. He didn’t know who you were—”
“And that makes it okay?” I frowned. “He’s capable of bad things, Marcel. Don’t be blinded by friendship.”
“I’m not,” he muttered. “But—”
“But nothing. I won’t put up with it.” I pushed past him. Before I got too far, Marcel spun around and grabbed my wrist, stopping me.
“You’re right,” he muttered. “I’m sorry.”
I furrowed my brows. “You’re sorry? For what?”
“For everything.” He peered into my eyes. “I … I didn’t know.”
I sighed. “It’s okay, Marcel, I don’t blame you.”
“I said a lot of hateful things. I didn’t mean any of them.”
I patted his hand. “I know. It’s water under the bridge.”
He nodded and released me. With nothing left to say, I left the dining hall where Viktor was waiting for me with Tessa.
“Your Highness!” Viktor quickly approached. “I saw Prince Caelan leave in a hurry. Is everything okay?”
I nodded. “Yes, it’s fine. I handled it.”
Viktor looked hesitant but didn’t push further. “Your mother had a few choice words for me as she left.”
I raised a brow. “Did she now?”
He chuckled. “Don’t worry, Your Highness. I handled it,” he mimicked.
I threw my head back and laughed. “Thank you, Viktor.”
“Of course, Your Highness,” he said solemnly. “Shall we return to the Eastern palace?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
8
The cool marble of the Eastern palace echoed underfoot as we navigated its opulent corridors, the somberness of the morning's events pressing heavily upon my shoulders. As we approached my chambers, the sight of Selene poised with a mixture of patience and anxiety momentarily lifted my spirits. Her quick steps towards me and the concern etched across her features were a stark reminder of the world we’d left behind and the intricate dance of court life we now faced.
“Where were you?” Her voice carried a blend of relief and worry, a testament to the bond we shared.
“My mother summoned me,” I explained, the words tinged with a resignation that came from navigating the expectations of royalty. “It wasn't something I could refuse.” I shifted the topic, hoping to ease her concern. “Did you manage to have breakfast?”
She nodded, a small gesture that belied her underlying unease. “Yes, one of your court ladies was kind enough to bring something from the kitchens.”
“Good. If you need anything, just tell me—” I was aboutto offer further reassurance when she interrupted, her voice a soft confession of her inner turmoil.
“Leila,” she began, her use of my claimed name pulling me into a moment of intimacy amidst the grandeur that surrounded us, “I feel useless here.”
Her words struck a chord, although the notion that she could view herself as anything less than essential was unfathomable to me. “What do you mean?” I asked, genuinely puzzled by her admission.
Selene's sigh was encumbered with the weight of unspoken fears and uncertainties. “I thought by coming here, I could be of some help to you,” she explained, her gaze dropping. “But now, I feel like I'm more of a burden than an asset.”
The earnestness in her voice prompted me to dispel the shadow of doubt that had crept into her heart. Grasping her hand, I sought to infuse my words with the strength of our shared past, our struggles, and our triumphs. “Selene, look at me,” I urged, waiting until her eyes met mine before continuing. “You could never be a burden. You've been my anchor, my confidante, and my friend through everything. That you would even think such a thing couldn't be further from the truth.”
In the grand scheme of the palace, where every glance held a story and every whisper a potential for intrigue, the simplicity of our connection—a bond forged not in the gilded halls of power, but in the raw truth of our experiences—was my solace. As the Eastern palace loomed around us, a solid demonstration of the life into which I was born, it was Selene's presence that reminded me of the person I had become and the strength that lay in true companionship.
