Page 33 of Lost Heir
Unfortunately,instead of slumber, Marcellus was waiting for me outside my chambers. With furrowed brows, I cleared my throat and caught his attention. “Hey … what are you doing here?”
He scratched the back of his head. “I was just taking a walk around the Eastern palace and thought I’d, uh … come say hi.”
I snorted and rolled my eyes. “In other words, you came to see Selene.” I pushed past him and into my bedroom while Tessa stayed outside to give us privacy.
Quickly, Marcellus followed me inside. “No I didn’t. I came to seeyou.”
My steps faltering, I turned to face him. “Is that so? May I ask why?”
“I wanted to … apologize.” He looked down at his booted feet. “I, uh, … know I haven’t been the best brother, and I’m truly sorry.”
I watched him for a moment; the way he nervously fiddled with his fingers, how he scuffed his boot against the floor, and how he avoided eye contact. I wished I could say I knew my brother’s mannerisms, but too much time had passed. I didn’t know who he was anymore. Still, I wanted to believe his motives were pure.
I sighed heavily. “It’s okay, Marcel. I don’t blame you … not entirely. I understand why you were upset.”
He slowly lifted his head and looked at me with a frown. “Really?”
“Really,” I repeated. “Maybe we can start over?” I held out a hand for him to shake.
A slow smile spread across his face before he took my hand in his. “Definitely,” he replied eagerly.
“Good.” I chuckled as we shook hands. “Then maybe you can do me a favor tomorrow.” I winced as the words came out of my mouth.
He nodded. “Sure. Anything.”
“Do you think you can escort Selene to the banquet?” I asked as if I didn’t already know the answer.
He frowned again. “Me? Why?”
“I know I told you to stay away from her, but honestly, there’s no one else I’d trust with her safety,” I said. “I can’t escort her myself, and Caelan …”
“You don’t trust Caelan?” Marcellus asked, slightly confused.
I shook my head. “No. I don’t.”
His eyes widened slightly as he absorbed my answer. “Oh. I thought … never mind. It doesn’t matter what I thought. Of course I’ll escort her.”
I smiled up at him. “Thank you, Marcel. I guess I owe you one.”
11
The evening of the banquet arrived, a night to mark my long-awaited return to Valoria. In the privacy of my chambers, surrounded by the soft glow of candlelight, the process of dressing felt more ceremonial than routine. Tessa, along with two other ladies from the court, laid out a gown that had been arduously created for the occasion—a true masterpiece of Valorian craftsmanship. Its fabric, a cascade of deep emerald silk, shimmered with threads of gold, mirroring the lushness of the palace gardens under the moonlight. The gown was adorned with intricate beadwork along the bodice, each bead a testament to the meticulous dedication of the palace's seamstresses.
As Tessa carefully laced the back of the dress, I couldn't help but marvel at the transformation reflected in the mirror before me. The gown fit perfectly, accentuating my form while the rich color complemented my complexion, making my skin glow with a radiant warmth. My hair was styled in an elegant updo; the strands were artfully arranged to frame my face with a few loose curls cascading down my neck. The finishing touch was an exquisite necklace, afamily heirloom of emeralds and diamonds that lay gently against my collarbone, its green hues a perfect match to the dress.
“You’re a vision, Your Highness,” Tessa remarked, her voice warm with genuine admiration as she adjusted the fall of the fabric to ensure it draped perfectly.
Feeling like a true Valorian princess for the first time in years, I took a deep breath to calm the flutter of nerves in my stomach. This was more than a mere celebration; it was a declaration of my presence, a reaffirmation of my identity in the land in which I’d once lived.
“Is this really me?” I murmured half to myself as I admired my reflection.
“It's you, Princess. Tonight, Valoria will see its daughter in all her splendor,” Tessa affirmed, her smile reflected in the mirror.
With a deep breath, I readied myself for the walk to the Grand Hall. Viktor and my court ladies formed a royal escort that felt more like a procession of old. The palace corridors, illuminated by the soft glow of torchlight, seemed to watch in silent anticipation as we passed.
Viktor, maintaining a pace that was both protective and respectful, glanced back. “You're ready for this,” he said, a statement more than a question, his voice steady.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
