Page 78 of Once Upon a Crown
“If it’s in the past like you say, then why are you still upset about it?”
“I’m not upset,” I said too quickly.
Bessie reared her head as Lance suddenly ran his horse in front of us, forcing me to stop.
“It meant something to me too.”
“What?” I barked out more harshly than intended.
“I know what you think of me and all the reasons I didn’t reach out to you again. But whatever had happened between us on that trip to Norrandale, I liked your company, Gwen, and it was never my intention to hurt you.”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” I shook my head, still pretending not to care.
“Yes, I do,” he insisted. “I don’t want you to walk through the palace halls avoiding me every day. I’d like for us to be friends.”
Well now, there was a sentence I’d never thought I’d hear from the Prince of Everness.
“Friends?” I asked with surprise.
“Yes, you know. When two people are more than mere acquaintances but less than lovers.”
“I know what friends means, Lance,” I retorted.
“Just checking.” He put up his hands slightly defensively. “You didn’t seem entirely familiar with the concept is all.”
“Don’t be facetious.” I pressed my leg into Bessie’s side, getting her to walk again. “Maybe I’m just surprised that you’re capable of having a friendship.” It was a mean thing to say. But then again, I hadn’t seen anyone around the palace, in all the time I stayed there, come to visit Lance. Nor had I ever heard him refer to anyone as his friend.
“It isn’t easy to make true friends as a royal. Not when people only want something from you most of the time.”
“You’re right,” I finally agreed, thinking back to my life at Norrandale and the people I’d left behind. “True friendship at court is a rare thing.”
“So, friends then?”
“Very well,” I agreed. “Friends.” If it meant putting the past entirely behind us and turning over a new leaf, I supposed no serious harm could come from being friends with the Princeof Everness. As long as Lance behaved himself. Which wasn’t exactly something I was counting on.
Chapter 32
Elara
My hands were shaking when I stepped through the doors of my room.
After our men had properly taken charge of the palace, I went back to the old rooms I’d stayed in before running to Everness. Everything looked as it had before, apart from a bit of dust gathering here and there and no wood in the fireplace.
I hadn’t seen Cai since what happened in the throne room. I needed to find him and make sure he was all right, but I was covered in blood and dirt, and I wanted to get rid of the worst of it before I did anything else.
I’d handed Conner over to one of our guards to make sure he was safe, but I couldn’t pull myself away from the fight between Cai and Thatcher. Nor could I unsee the way Cai brutally took Thatcher’s life. I couldn’t say it was undeserved, but seeing Cai’s pain and anger take control of him like that made me realise once again how much of a toll this had all taken on him.
Part of me worried about the way he was filled with blind rage at that moment. How he’d changed into someone I barely recognised. Was this one of the many reasons Cai dreaded war so much? Because he was afraid of the person it might change him into? Jack had once told me, long ago, that the first war with Argon had changed Cai in ways he never recovered from. I didn’t know the Cai he was before Argon, but I didn’t want to lose the one I’d come to know in the last few months. What if this war changed all of us in ways we could not imagine? What if we became strangers to ourselves?
All I knew was that I needed to talk to Cai as soon as possible.
My clothes were spattered in blood and my boots covered in dirt from trekking to Mistwood through the muddied earth.
I started by removing my shirt. My arm burned with every movement. Luckily, I’d worn a sleeveless top under my linen shirt to keep me warm. I wouldn’t have to get changed before cleaning the wound.
I made my way to the bathing chamber, noticing in the mirror how pale my face looked. The water was cold as I pressed a wet cloth to my skin. At least the bleeding had mostly stopped, but it might still require some stitches. Now I would have a scar on each arm. One from the rebel girl who’d tried to assassinate me in my own throne room a few months earlier, and one from the Argonian soldier today. Not that it mattered much at this point. I was pretty much covered in them anyway.
After rummaging through a few of the drawers, I found a needle and some thread. The cut was at a bit of an awkward angle, so it wasn’t going to be very easy.
