Page 127 of The Kingdom's Reckoning
"Mhm," she hummed, hurrying out of Rian’s way as he tried to slip past her.
Myra.Not Haze or Mys. Laurince rarely called her by her actual name. She was probably only paranoid, yet she couldn’t shake the jealousy and strangeness that covered her skin.
Laurince unbuckled his sword and sat it on the table. He pulled a wooden chair out and sat on it backwards, his armsresting over the back. He looked like he belonged there. It was almost as if Ferencia had chosen the purple curtains purposefully to accentuate the warmth in his deep brown eyes.
Rian whispered something in Laurince’s ear.
"It’s fine," Laurince responded, batting him away.
Rian groaned and yanked his cloak off. Tossing it over an empty chair, he rubbed a hand across his hair.
"The black hair suits you, Your Highness," Ferencia said as she rested her hip on an elegant vanity table that sat beneath a large silver mirror framed with rubies.
Myra quickly averted her gaze, not wanting to witness her frazzled state in the reflection. Especially not with Ferencia standing there, her hair falling in perfect ringlets, wearing a satin dress that miraculously bore no wrinkles.
"Thanks," Rian mumbled.
Myra fiddled with the buttons on the top of her cloak. She couldn’t tell whether she was hot or cold. Either way, the wool was suddenly uncomfortable and irritated her skin. She began undoing the buttons. It should have been a simple task, something that was mindless, yet helped distract her from the awkwardness that hung in the air. However, it was taking her far too long to undo them. The others must have noticed, too, because she could feel their eyes on her. When she finally undid the last button, she hung it up beside Laurince’s and turned, facing her next predicament. She wasn’t sure if she should sit or stand. She felt out of place here, uncomfortable even among friends.
When Myra looked at Laurince, he tipped his head to the seat beside him, and Myra plopped down in the chair. As the others exchanged awkward pleasantries, Myra rubbed her hands across her arms, regretting having taken the cloak off. At least it had provided some layer of protection.
"Do you need something for that?"
Myra snapped her attention to Ferencia. "Pardon?"
Ferencia arched a brow and pointed. Following her gaze, Myra found her sleeves were up to her elbows, revealing patchy red skin. Her cheeks flamed in embarrassment and horror, which only made the redness on her arms worse.
"If it’s infectious, you probably should not be so close to others, no?" Ferencia asked, glancing at Laurince sitting only a foot away from Myra.
"Oh, I—" Myra struggled to speak, her tongue suddenly feeling thick in her mouth.
Could one be allergic to embarrassment? If so, then she most definitely was.
She made to stand, but a large hand grabbed her thigh.
"Leave her alone, Ferencia," Laurince demanded, removing his hand from Myra’s thigh only once she settled back into the seat.
"I’m only looking out for you, Lo." The bitter tang of annoyance and frustration slipped into the air as Ferencia narrowed her gaze at the captain. "But you never were good at listening to me, were you?"
"If this is going to be a problem, we can leave," Laurince said, his jaw popping. He began to stand. "On second thought, this was a bad idea. We should go."
Ferencia’s shoulders dropped, her eyes widening. "Wait, no. I’m sorry," she sputtered as she ran her palm down the front of her dress, smoothing out the fabric. "It’s been a little tense around here. I didn’t mean—" She swallowed and looked at Myra. "I’m sorry if what I said was offensive."
A pang of jealousy hung in the space between the women.
"It’s fine, really," Myra said, tugging the sleeves of her shirt down. Her gaze swept across the room. A pile of pointe shoes sat in the corner. Then she noted the way Laurince sat comfortably in the chair, how he didn’t look around the room to take it allin like he normally did when entering an unfamiliar place, his casual tone with Ferencia.
Myra’s lips parted.
Ferencia had to be the dance instructor’s daughter. The one Laurince had a crush on growing up. How long ago was that crush? Had he gotten over it?
"Your brother will not be happy to see you, Your Majesty," Ferencia said, changing the topic.
"Is that so?" Rian asked, his tone taking on a sharp edge.
"We all know Sebastian is not one to hide his feelings. He’s grown quite comfortable on that throne," Ferencia explained.
"You meanmythrone," Rian said through clenched teeth.
