Page 30
Story: The Silent Prince
Anyway, if you break it, I won’t live too long with the sting of rejection.
Her teeth worried her lower lip.
Kaerius couldn’t look away.You are even more beautiful than I remembered.
Brighton said quietly, “If that is all, Your Highness, I’ll take him to his suite here and let Jill know the schedule for tomorrow.”
“Thank you.” Marin smiled at them.
Kaerius barely concealed a wince as he stood. His feet seemed sticky and exquisitely painful.
“Goodnight.”
The two men bowed to her. Brighton nodded to the guards outside her quarters and led Kaerius away.
Three staircasesand two long hallways later, Brighton met a woman at a heavy wooden door. “Jill,” he said with a smile.
The woman nodded, her dark eyes sweeping up and down Kaerius’s trim figure. “He does look adequately princely, with the right clothes,” she admitted. “How did it go this evening?”
“Quite well, I think,” said Brighton. “Come on out of the hall.”
He ushered them into the room and closed the door firmly behind them. They were in a luxurious sitting room, with white silk couches arranged near a fireplace, a breakfast table with more chairs, and several doors leading to other rooms. The walls were painted a pale blue, like the morning sky on a clear day, and Kaerius liked it immediately.
“Her Highness wants Prince Kai prepared to join her and the Boravian envoy for lunch tomorrow. Tonight, he needs a haircut and dinner. I’ll see him in the morning before I escort the princess to her meeting with Ralph at ten.”
Brighton turned to Kaerius. “Do you need anything before I go?”
I don’t like these boots.Kaerius felt a little silly to complain, but if they expected him to dance again any time soon, he would appreciate something a little more comfortable.
“Something about the boots?” Brighton frowned. “Do they pinch?”
Kaerius made anot exactlygesture. He sat on the floor, untied the boots, and pulled them off, grimacing.
“Good heavens!” exclaimed Jill. “You’ve bled right through your socks.”
He peeled off the socks, wincing as the fabric pulled away from the open blisters. The chilly air stung the raw spots in piercing, painful relief, and Kaerius’s breath hitched a little.
Brighton knelt beside him and examined the prince’s feet. “I thought they fit better than that,” he said, half in apology and half in confusion. “Have you never worn boots at all? Why didn’t you tell me they hurt?”
The Mer prince’s beautiful, new feet did not look lovely now. The grief of this struck him like a shark from below, a sudden, gut-wrenching terror that Marin would see only ugliness and weakness when he meant to show her strength.
Was he not worthy of her after all?
Kaerius took a deep, shuddering breath and shoved the fear away. He would hide the pain from her, and if she were horrified by his ruined feet, at least he would not have to be ashamed of his weakness before her.
Brighton rubbed a hand over the faint scruff of beard that darkened his jaw. “Well, you can’t wear those again. Her Highness won’t expect you to dance like that, but it would be good if you can still walk.”
I can dance. Kaerius firmed his jaw.
The guard said, “I’ll bring some of Lila’s silk stockings tomorrow. We’ll put them under the wool socks, and that should help reduce friction. Then we’ll get boots a size bigger andsee how that feels. All right?” He put an encouraging hand on Kaerius’s shoulder. “I suppose if you’ve never worn boots before, your feet wouldn’t be accustomed to them.”
Kaerius nodded once, not sure if Brighton was being sarcastic or sympathetic or merely humoring him. He didn’t want to be angry with the guard though, even if the words were mocking.
Perhaps he really was worthy of mockery, and not as irresistible as he’d imagined. He looked down at his borrowed clothes, so fine and yet rumpled as he sat upon the floor with his legs stretched out before him. Did he look worthy of the princess? What did he really have to offer in this human world, where even the boots rubbed him raw?
Jill said, “Her Highness said she wanted him to still look foreign, so I was going to just even up his hair, not take much off. A good brushing would do wonders, I think.”
“He really is foreign,” Brighton said quietly.
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