Page 82 of Once Upon a Crown
According to news from Mistwood, my parents had gone into hiding after what Thatcher did.
Either they were humiliated by his betrayal or they feared for their own lives. Perhaps both.
I thought that maybe I could send a letter to our estate, hoping they would eventually get it, but once I actually started to write, the words would not come to me.
I scrunched up the piece of paper and tossed it into the fire. Writing letters would have to wait.
It would be evening soon, and I needed some new reading material for dinner. Despite our newfound friendship, I hadn’t been seeing Lance around the dinner table much. But, accordingto a servant, he’d been spending most of his time in Eloisa’s room, which was entirely understandable with her declining health. Not that I minded my own company at all. A slight pitter-patter sang against the window. Lovely, now it was raining too.
I got up and left my rooms, heading in the direction of the library. With the high ceilings of the palace, it was difficult to hear the rain on the roof, but the world outside the windows I passed was grey and dreary, growing ever darker.
I walked slowly, still trying to be careful of my ankle, when I heard a cry in the distance. As I rounded the corner, I saw a figure, glass bottle in hand, before he suddenly turned and threw the bottle against the wall. Glass shattered everywhere, the amber liquid spilling across the floor.
Lance hadn’t noticed my presence at the end of the hallway. He leaned back against the wall and slid down to the floor with his head in his hands.
Whatever was going on, this was a deeply personal moment, and I was intruding. I doubted Lance would want me to see this, and yet, as I turned to leave, I heard the soft muffles of him crying and my gut twisted into knots.
Something was clearly very wrong if he was in such a state. If it had been anyone else, I would have rushed over without a thought and tried to comfort them.
But this was Lance.
I had no idea how to react.
I shifted my weight and the damned wooden floor creaked. Lance’s eyes shot straight in my direction. He looked surprised and anguished all at once.
“Are you all right?” I managed to croak out.
I started to approach, though carefully. He might still chase me away, not wanting to be seen in such a state.
Lance’s head hung low. As I reached him, he looked up, his eyes bloodshot from crying.
“She’s dead,” he said softly. “Eloisa’s dead.”
The youngest Evernean princess, with an illness of the mind, had always been hidden from the world. I had no idea what her and Lance’s relationship was like, but based on how much time he’d been spending sitting by her bed the last few weeks, it was clear he had cared for her in some way. Not to mention his current reaction on her passing.
“I’m so sorry.” I crouched down so that I could be at his level, broken glass crunching under my shoes. “Was she in a lot of pain?”
He shook his head, looking down at the floor.
“The physician said she shouldn’t really have felt anything, she was in such a deep sleep by then.”
I didn’t know entirely what to say. Didn’t know how to give my condolences.
“I’m really sorry, Lance.” I wished I could say I understood but our circumstances were vastly different when it came to our siblings.
“She was the last of my family. Now I have no one left.” His mother had died when he was a little boy, his father only a few months ago, and now his younger sister.
“You still have Elara.” I gently placed my hand on his bent knee.
“Please,” Lance said, wiping a rebellious tear from his cheek as if he’d not been crying. “She wouldn’t give a damn if I died, just like the rest of you.”
“That’s not true. You may not be Elara’s favourite person in the world, but I know she doesn’t want you to die. Even though she would probably never admit it, I think that deep down she cares for you in a way she cannot necessarily explain. If she didn’t, then you would still be in prison.”
“After everything I’ve done, I wouldn’t be surprised if she hated me. She has every right to. I’m selfish and reckless and I know it.”
Well, at least he was self-aware. That had to count for something, right?
“Sometimes we care for the people we are bound to by blood, even when we shouldn’t.” I wasn’t sure if I was referring to him and Elara or me and Thatcher.
