“Even though a few days before our wedding, you informed me in no uncertain terms that you did?”
“I did not.” But even as I made my defense, I realized that Princess Lavena likely had, which meant I’d have to take responsibility for not only this, but for every biting comment she’d ever made to Liam. I gritted my teeth. This wasn’t fair. “Did I?” I asked tentatively, wanting to be sure before I unwillingly took the blame.
“Yes. It was the day we went riding and were alternating between not speaking and going at one another’s throats. You were the first to decide a battle of words would be an excellent way to pass the time.”
I groaned. Yes, that sounded exactly how Princess Lavena would have treated her intended. Curse you, Lavena.
“I beg your pardon?”
I stiffened. “Did I say that out loud?”
He offered another boyish smile that had the strange effect of calming my frazzled nerves. “You did. Scolding yourself?”
Scolding her, the one who’d gotten me into this mess. “I fully deserve it. I didn’t mean a single word of…whatever I said.” I leaned forward, paranoid. “What exactly did I say? I don’t remember.”
“Nothing that bears repeating.”
“Oh, great.” I buried my face in my hands. That meant it had undoubtedly been extremely rude. My frustration that I couldn’t explain away all of Liam’s past hurts pressed against my heart. I took a deep breath and looked directly into his deep blue eyes. “I’m sincerely sorry for the things I said and for any pain that my words may have caused you. I promise never to speak to you in such a way again. Please forgive me.”
His eyes widened and his mouth fell open before his entire manner softened. “Oh Lavena, it’s quite alright. Thank you for your apology. I’m sorry, too, for how I spoke to you in return.”
Thank goodness I didn’t have any negative memories of Liam’s rudeness towards Princess Lavena. I smiled, my forgiveness. He returned it, and with it I felt healing begin to settle between us, melting away the hurt from the contention that had festered since we’d taken our vows, giving us a fresh start. I didn’t realize how heavy the weight pressing against my heart at the thought of enduring such a tense union had been until it began to lift.
I returned to my plate. The food was delicious, far more satisfying than the porridge I’d spent every morning of my life up until this marriage eating. I ate each item eagerly, but paused with my fork halfway to my mouth when I noticed Liam watching me.
“What is it?” I squeaked.
His lips twitched. “Your appetite is much heartier than it used to be. You used to pick at your food, claiming it wasn’t to your liking.”
I froze, too late remembering the princess’s finicky tastes. “I’m enjoying my meals now. I’ve never eaten such fine food.”
The ring burned in protest at this second mistake. My heart beat wildly as Liam’s eyes narrowed. Did he suspect? “Haven’t you? Strange; the food on our honeymoon hasn’t been anything special.”
Spoken by a prince accustomed to such delicacies. “On the contrary, I’ve quite enjoyed it; I’ve never tasted anything better in Lyceria.”
He continued studying me thoughtfully before he shrugged. “Perhaps the method of preparation is superior in Draceria; I must be sure and give my complements to the royal chef.” He winked.
I took a deep breath, urging myself to relax. I needed to be more careful so as not to crack the façade, especially now that, thanks to our tentative friendship, Liam was paying better attention to me. I fiddled with my hair—something I’d seen the princess do a multitude of times—as if the gesture could better conceal the fact I was a fraud. It felt so foreign. Would I ever grow accustomed to my mask?
Liam finished breakfast first but made no move to leave the table. Instead, he began stacking his empty dishes. Princess Lavena had frequently complained about this habit of his. Although she thought it quite immature behavior for a prince, I found the expert way he balanced each dish to form a pyramid rather impressive.
Soon I began studying not only the careful way he arranged his dishes but his expression while doing so—as he focused on the task with exaggerated concentration, his hands shook and apprehension filled his eyes. The seemingly confident prince was nervous. Was his tendency to stack his dishes a mask to hide that emotion?
Liam began to place his goblet at the very top but paused. His cheeks darkened as he shyly raised his gaze to mine. “You hate when I do this, don’t you?”
I rose from my seat and rested my hands on the plate at the top. “I’ll hold it steady.”
His eyes widened before he managed another boyish grin. He balanced the jeweled goblet with a steadiness that undoubtedly came from many hours of practice. “There, the pyramid is complete.” He withdrew, his fingers brushing against my hand as he did so. I nearly jolted and ruined the pyramid.
“An impressive structure, clearly made by an expert. How long have you had this hobby?”
“Ever since I was a boy. I like the challenge.”
“Are you brave enough to make this particular pyramid even more challenging?” I handed him my cutlery. “I dare you to put this on top of the goblet.”
He stared at me for a moment before chuckling. “Once again, you surprise me. You really are different, Lavena. I clearly never really knew you before our marriage. I suppose I never really tried.” He gingerly placed the cutlery atop the goblet and sat back. “There.”
We both admired it before our gazes met and we exchanged shy smiles.
“Do you still find this unconventional hobby immature?” Uncertainty filled his eyes. My heart wrenched. The princess’s comments had clearly bothered him, even if he’d always pretended they hadn’t.
“Not at all.”
He scrunched his forehead. “Why the change of heart?”
I bit my lip, considering how to respond. “Because we’re friends now.”
He reached out, almost as if he were going to take my hand, but instead he laid his inches from mine, so close I could reach out and touch it with my fingertip if I wanted to.
“You were never wrong, although at the time I refused to admit that. It is immature. When I was younger it never mattered, for back then I was the spare, not the heir. But ever since Kian died, the goofy prince is expected to change in order to become someone he’s not: a future king. But I don’t want to let go of who I am, even though I know I’m supposed to.”
“You’re afraid of losing yourself.” I understood that fear all too well.
He looked down. “I don’t want Prince Liam to be swallowed up by Crown Prince Liam, a role I never asked for.”
“If it means anything, I think I like Prince Liam better,” I said. “Since we’re now friends, you can be whichever Liam you want to be for me.”
He smiled and it lit up his eyes. “Thank you, Lavena. I never expected to share this part of myself—or any part of myself—with you, but you’re easy to talk to.” His brow furrowed, as if confused by our exchange. “I don’t quite understand it.”
My heartbeat escalated. “Understand what?”
“This.” He motioned between us. “What’s happening here. It’s the opposite of what I imagined our marriage would be like.”
“I hope our marriage continues to be better than our previous expectations.”
“As do I.” He sighed. “In my displeasure for our union, I allowed my bitterness to manifest in hatred. I’ve said so many horrible things to you.”
I sent up a prayer of gratitude that I had no memory of those bitter fights between Liam and Princess Lavena; our first week of marriage when his attacks had been directed towards me—or rather, who he thought was me—had been bad enough.
“I’m so sorry for my own words,” I whispered. “I can’t even convey how deeply I regret the pain they caused you.”
He studied me, expression pensive, before he shook his head. “I still can’t get over how different you are.”
I instinctively t
ensed.
“It’s almost as if you’re a different person.” He laughed, as if the thought were ridiculous, never thinking it even possible just how true his words really were. His buoyant laughter quickly ceased and he became serious once more. “Can I ask you something?”
My mouth had gone dry. “What is it?” I squeaked.
He leaned over the table, his gaze penetrating. “This last week—were you playing a game or were you sincere?”
I looked directly into his eyes so he couldn’t miss my earnestness. “I was sincere.”
He released a relieved sigh. “I’m glad, although admittedly rather confused, which leads me to ask again: why the sudden change of heart?”
I nibbled my lip. How to answer? The way I was choosing to handle this marriage was the opposite of the role I was meant to play, but if Princess Lavena meant for our switch to be permanent, then it was me who’d spend the rest of my life with Liam as my husband, not her. Thus I had to handle the marriage in the way I wanted rather than the way she expected.
“I don’t want to live the way we have been. I’ve always dreamt of a happy marriage. Just because my choice of spouse has been stolen from me doesn’t mean my choice to make our marriage work has.”
“I feel the same way. I originally grew up knowing I had a choice, only for that choice to be ripped from me when I inherited not only my deceased brother’s title but his fiancée as well.” His expression twisted. “It all felt horribly unfair to be forced into a situation not of my choosing. I thought if I hated the arrangement enough, my parents wouldn’t make me go through with it. But it didn’t work. Instead, it just created hatred between us.”
“I don’t hate you,” I said hastily. “I swear, Liam.”
He considered. “And I no longer hate you. It’s a start, at least, to mending the mess I’ve created. I’m sorry I started the hostility between us due to my resentment of something that was never your fault. I should have considered your feelings at suddenly becoming engaged to me after having grown to care for my brother. No wonder you resented me.”
I wasn’t sure who’d started it, considering I didn’t doubt Princess Lavena had enthusiastically gone along with Liam’s desire to be enemies. It didn’t matter anymore. “I’m sorry, too.”
He smiled. “A fresh start to try and make this arranged marriage work. I admit that I’m still wary. It’ll take time to build trust and convince me you’ve really changed. But in time, I do believe we can at least be friends.”
Friends…it was both a beautiful thought and a painful one that our arrangement would likely not be anything more. Still, if I could at least have his good opinion and his friendship, then this façade would be easier to endure. In fact, it might actually become more than bearable, for the more time I spent around this prince, the more I realized how much I liked him.
He wanted to be friends. I needed to accept that, while doing my best to school my heart so that I wouldn’t risk losing it further to the man who was uninterested in anything more.
Chapter 7
That tentative morning marked a shift in our relationship. At first I feared our apologies would change nothing, that like the first morning of our honeymoon Liam would think me insincere and revert back to his cold persona, which I now realized had served as his protection from getting close to me and opening himself up to the possibility that our relationship could be something more than duty to a political contract.
Thankfully, my fears proved unfounded. We chatted together the remainder of breakfast, after which Liam excused himself with a friendly smile and a bow, leaving for whatever adventure he’d planned for today. I fought to squelch the disappointment prickling my heart as I watched him disappear down the hallway before reminding myself that distance was probably best. With it I wouldn’t become too attached to a man who wasn’t mine, for Princess Lavena would undoubtedly one day grow tired of her current beau and want Liam back.
Outside was grey and drizzly. Normally, I’d have embraced both the rain and the opportunity to study the insects that only emerged in the damp cold, but unfortunately, behaving like Princess Lavena forced me to remain cooped up.
I aimlessly wandered the various palace rooms before reluctantly settling in the parlor with my embroidery, a hobby for which I lacked both the patience and the skill. My threads quickly tangled to form a rather hideous picture. I sighed and stared out the rain-splotched window. If only I could spend the morning outside instead.
“Do you like the rain?”
I startled and swiveled towards Liam’s voice. He leaned against the doorframe with a tentative but still friendly smile. He straightened and after a moment’s hesitation—as if he’d been afraid to venture too close—he stepped into the parlor, motioning towards the window with his chin.
“Do you like the rain?” he repeated.
“I love rain,” I said, in my shock forgetting I should be following my Princess Lavena script, not Anwen’s. But the ring didn’t seem to protest, and Liam took no notice.
His grin widened. “I love the rain, too. We have something in common.”
As if this revelation gave him courage, he took another step into the room, bringing him even closer. He stopped in front of me, shifting his weight from foot to foot and looking around as if searching for something more to say. His gaze settled on the embroidery in my lap.
“You enjoy embroidery?”
Princess Lavena had embroidered too often in his presence for me to be honest in this particular answer. “I do.”
He tilted his head to study the picture more closely. “What is it?”
I lowered my gaze to my tangled mess of threads. Hopefully, Liam didn’t realize how talented an embroiderer Princess Lavena was compared to me. “I don’t really know.”
He snorted, the beginnings of a laugh lighting up his eyes. “That’s good, because I have no idea either.”
I pretended to be affronted. “Making fun of my embroidery?”
At first he looked wary, as if afraid I was about to snap at him for his teasing, but when I continued to smile he visibly relaxed. “Not at all.” His twitching lips gave him away. At least he was polite enough not to laugh outright at what was undoubtedly the ugliest piece of embroidery that had ever been created.
“It’s unfinished,” I said, as if this excused how horrendous it was.
“I can see that.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Are you an expert in embroidery? What an interesting fact about my husband.”
He held up his hands. “Even the most manly prince such as myself can become such when he has three sisters.” He stared at my monstrosity with twitching lips. “I’m still new at this husband thing and am unsure what my primary husbandly duty is: to lie and say it’s lovely, or to be brutally honest and advise you never to show that to anyone other than our most boring diplomats with the hope that it will encourage them to cut their visits short.”
I stifled a smile. “I prefer your honestly. But it’s most unfortunate that you feel this way about it, as it was intended as a wedding gift for you. I thought we could frame it in a place of honor. Perhaps the throne room?”
His eyes widened in horror. “You want me to hang it in the throne room?”
“Didn’t your father tell you to keep your wife happy?”
Liam gaped at me, trying to discern whether or not I was serious, until I started giggling. Relief flooded his face as he broke into a wide grin.
“You had me worried there for a minute. I always thought of you as serious and devoid of any humor. To avoid the fate of being the recipient of such a gift, I must work to get into your good graces.” He lowered his eyes and crunched the hem of his shirt. “That’s why I’m here, actually. It occurred to me that solely spending mealtimes together isn’t enough to become friends, so I’ve come to spend time with you.”
I smiled. Instead of me attempting to seek him out like I’d done our first week of marriage, he was now coming to me.
“However, the s
ituation is more dire than I thought,” he continued. “I expected you to be engaged in something amusing that I’d have to cajole you into abandoning. But what do I find?” He wrinkled his nose at my embroidery. “Your working intently on whatever this is.”
His eyes twinkled. This teasing was so different from the coldness that had previously filled our interactions. I basked in his warm and friendly efforts to make our marriage work.
“You’ve caught me; I’m actually a spy who weaves encrypted messages into my embroidery, hence it’s so ugly.”
“I’m relieved to hear there’s a logical explanation for how it looks. I’d hate to think you wanted it to look like that on purpose.”
Again, lightness filled both his tone and his eyes. He closed the remaining distance between us and gently took hold of my hands. He normally didn’t touch me outside of escorting me, and I was unprepared for my body’s response. A flutter began at my fingertips as they curled around his and rippled up my arm. The effect of his touch seemed lost on him as he tugged me to my feet.
“What are your plans?” I managed to stammer.
“I was going to invite you to take a stroll through the gardens, but since it’s raining, perhaps a grand tour of the palace would be better. I’ll make it worth your while by sharing my own spin on the tales of the palace’s grand but rather stuffy history.”
He winked, thoroughly disarming me, and led me from the parlor, where he began his likely inaccurate but rather amusing tour, renaming each room something ridiculous and telling whacky stories that soon had both of us laughing.
I loved his laugh, a deep, contagious sound that was full of pure joy. I’d never heard anyone laugh with so much abandon and pleasure. The sound seeped over me. With it and his company, the afternoon melted away.
The friendliness and ease between Liam and me continued for the remainder of the week. Each day we spent more and more time together, gradually building a beautiful trust and friendship between us; my unease slowly began to slip away, and I came to treasure being with the man I never would have known if not for the princess’s scheme.
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