Page 35 of A Gaze So Longing (The Fall of Livenza #1)

At one point—Leonardo was stuck with a partner he undoubtedly felt no attraction for, the excitement on his smile so fabricated the girl must have noticed—a body leaned onto the bright stone column closest to where Favian stood.

“This might be the most boring ball I have ever been to,” Princess Dinha said, seemingly to no one in particular. When she received no response, she turned toward Favian. “Are all events in Livenza this dull?”

Irritated by the question, by the fact that she was talking to him, Favian answered, “Your Highness, it is not my place to comment on the adequacy of His Majesty’s prowess in planning events like these.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I’ve always hated the formality.

If it were up to me, you’d just call me Dinha.

But I suppose you can’t, with your king all watchful, now, can you?

” Before he was able to parse whether she expected an answer, she continued.

“No matter what you call me, are you allowed to talk to me? I’m bored out of my mind. ”

“I—” Favian began, but movement around the doors caught his attention.

Through the masses of bodies, Favian spotted Rodrigo winding his way through the banquet tables with his head down. The boy was on stable duty; what was he doing here?

What was he doing ?

Rodrigo was not hiding particularly well, the sweaty work clothes quite the eyesore among the fancifully dressed crowd.

Luckily, the visitors seemed too focused on the prince and his current partner to notice the presence of a stablehand in the hall.

The boy looked up, right into Favian’s direction, and gave a nod.

What do you want?

But before Favian could even begin to decipher what Rodrigo was trying to tell him, Princess Dinha pushed away from the column and handed him her cup.

“Excuse me,” she said, an unmistakable fervor in her voice.

She walked away, right into Rodrigo’s direction, and the two disappeared out the doorway, leaving he hall.

Baffled, Favian searched the room for Nia—maybe she knew what Rodrigo was doing—but he couldn’t find her.

A brief swell of panic grabbed hold of him before he realized that His Majesty was still seated on his throne, nowhere close to wherever Nia might have gone.

She was probably with Rodrigo—she had to be.

Leonardo was still dancing, and the guests were still mingling. His Majesty was watching his child, unconcerned with what had just happened right under his nose.

Favian tried to keep his cool, to little avail. He noticed himself getting jittery as time went on, the prince traded one dance partner for another, and neither Nia nor Princess Dinha returned to the hall.

When Leonardo came for his cup to be refilled again, Favian broke a rule.

“Your Highness,” he said, immediately catching the prince’s attention. As quietly as he could, Favian told him, “My sister has been gone from the hall for a while. I don’t know where she is.”

In a move Favian was sure he considered subtle, the prince turned around and scanned the room.

“I’ll see what I can find out.” He strode away without waiting for a reply.

Favian watched Leonardo strike up a number of conversations, including with Princess Dinha’s mothers, who did not appear concerned about their daughter’s absence in the slightest.

Eventually, Leonardo announced the room that he would be gone for a few minutes but would return shortly, framing the statement so the guests would believe he simply needed to relieve himself. Then he, too, disappeared out the doorway.

The following minutes were nerve-wrecking.

Favian refilled cups, barely processing the motions. The pitcher was cold in his hands.

“You,” called the only voice capable of sending him into shock—he knew instantly that the word was directed at him. “Come here.”

Favian’s body moved.

“My son has been absent for too long. And so. . .” His Majesty paused. “Has your little brother.”

It took Favian everything he had not to react.

“I expect you to bring them back to the event within the next ten minutes. Go, scum.”

He was in the corridor.

Favian did not remember putting down the pitcher, moving through the masses, leaving the throne room. But he must have.

The moment he came to, he began running.

He checked the kitchens, the dining halls, the servant quarters. He knocked on Leonardo’s chambers, on his own door, on Rodrigo’s.

Nothing.

Rounding the corner leading to the storage rooms, he heard them. Rodrigo’s agitated voice, Nia’s concerned one.

Favian didn’t think, didn’t wait. He pulled open the door, ready to scold them. The expressions on their faces stopped him in his tracks.

Rodrigo whirled around, now facing Favian. He saw only one thing in the boy’s eyes: fury.

“You let him touch her?”

Oh.

Nia was reaching for Rodrigo, pulling on his sleeves. “It’s alright.”

“It is not!” The boy’s rage mixed with confusion; his voice was loud with both. “You went on one of your little trips with His Highness and meanwhile, the bastard raped your sister?”

Favian was frozen in place, unable to defend himself.

The word rushed through every limb, through his chest, into his heart. Squeezed it, hard.

There was nothing he could say.

Rodrigo was right.

Whatever goodwill he had earned back with the boy, it had dissipated with this revelation.

“This is your fault!”

“Rodrigo!” Nia’s voice was louder now, infuriated. “Stop it! It isn’t that simple!”

Rodrigo looked at Nia, then.

And Nia looked at Favian.

And Rodrigo, as smart as he was, understood.

The stillness was interrupted when a familiar warm laugh echoed from the hallway.

“Oh, no, he isn’t amusing himself,” Rodrigo snarled at no one in particular, pushing past Favian’s body blocking the doorway.

Favian looked at Nia. She must have seen in his eyes the things he was unable to express, to process, even. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t know he would—”

Favian turned away from her. He couldn’t hear it, couldn’t listen. Couldn’t comprehend her words.

He was greeted by the sight of Rodrigo taking large strides toward Leonardo and Princess Dinha walking down the hall, her arm threaded through his.

When they noticed Rodrigo, they stopped, Leonardo puzzled, Princess Dinha elated.

“Rodrigo!” she exclaimed. “I was just telling—”

“Cut the crap,” Rodrigo interrupted.

Leonardo’s face shifted from mere confusion to utter bewilderment.

“Did you know that the prince you’re strolling around with has a rapist for a father?”

She removed her arm from Leonardo’s and narrowed her eyes. “What are you talking about?” she asked almost calmly.

Rodrigo huffed, spitting the words like bile. “ His Highness is attempting to romance one of his father’s victims.”

The same look of recognition, this time on Leonardo’s face.

He looked at Favian, down the hall.

Saw him, then.

Finally, finally, saw him.

The ground opened up underneath him, and he fell.