Page 13 of Legacy of the Heirs (The Lost Kingdom Saga #2)
She froze. She did not expect her sudden hesitation. After all, it was normal for a lord to escort their queen. Larelle broke their gaze yet looped her arm through his, the silk of her ivory gown catching against the deep blue velvet of his jacket.
“Do you require our attendance, Your Majesty?” asked one of her guards as they reached the hall doors. Larelle shook her head politely.
“I will be okay with Lord Alvan. Please stand by the princess’s room in the meantime.” The guard bowed before exiting ahead of Larelle and Alvan. An unusual silence lingered between the pair as he escorted her from the hall.
They did not journey far. They turned down a short stone corridor housing immense open doors to the library on one side and large windows offering a view into the hall on the other.
Turning the final corner, they reached a dead end, where only a locked door resided.
Alvan loosened his arm from her grip to pull a set of keys from his inside pocket.
This is a secret place, Larelle realised , somewhere just for him.
“I hope you do not mind all the stairs.” Alvan smiled.
It was nearly pitch black, except for the occasional lantern.
The chill night air brushed against Larelle as they rounded the final steps.
She could not help but gasp as she gazed at the view before them.
The turret took them to a platform amongst the top of the canopies, placing the pair above the tree line.
If it had been sunrise, she expected the rooftops of her castle would be clear across the horizon.
She did not care for that now, though, enamoured instead by the view of Hystone Forest. It was not pitch-black like she expected.
Thousands of yellow lights floated among the leaves and stretched across the horizon, a blanket of golden stars reflecting the night sky.
“Fireflies,” Alvan murmured, leaning onto the wooden railing inches from Larelle’s side .
“It is breathtaking,” she breathed.
“Indeed.” Larelle turned her head to find him watching her with a soft smile on his lips, the light of the nearby fireflies illuminating the sparkle in his eyes. Larelle blushed and looked back at the view. She wriggled her fingers as one of the small creatures landed on her skin.
“I sensed there was more you wished to discuss after last night,” Alvan prompted, and Larelle lowered her head, her curls falling to mask her expression. Her heart skipped as he reached out, tucking the hair behind her ear.
“You can tell me,” he said.
Larelle looked up then, her face inches from his. He dropped his hand, brushing it against the silk of her sleeves as he stepped back and cleared his throat.
“Y-yes,” she stammered, facing the view once more. She straightened. “There was something else—something the Historian told me.” She searched for any doubt—any reason not to tell him—but felt only unwavering trust for the man beside her. “He visited me; that is why I left the meeting.”
“He came to the castle?” Alvan asked. “He never leaves the Neutral City.” Larelle hummed her agreement.
“He had a fear he wished to get off his chest.” Larelle picked at the skin around her fingers, and Alvan reached for her again.
“Larelle,” he said softly. “Please, unburden yourself.” She glanced sideways at him, spurred on by the softness of his expression.
“He told me we cannot trust Kazaar,” she said, and Alvan frowned.
“Queen Elisara’s commander?”
Larelle nodded. “He informed me of something he read in a history book once. At first, he recited the final lines of the prophecy, but then he added two new lines. Watch for the dark one that will bring suffering to all. The rise of old power, the Kingdom will fall.” She studied Alvan’s reaction but saw only confusion as he leaned against the railing.
“What does that have to do with Kazaar?”
“The Historian said he sensed his dark power when we were last at the temple.”
Alvan stared out across the treetops, and Larelle waited while he processed this new information. “It is just one man’s word with no proof. We cannot take it as fact.”
“It would be an odd thing to lie about, though,” Larelle countered. Alvan made a noise of agreement.
“Will you tell him or the other rulers?” he asked.
Larelle embraced herself against the chill.
“That’s what you are so uncertain about.
” He sighed and reached for Larelle’s waist, turning her to face him.
“Larelle, you are wise; you have a natural instinct for things.” Larelle avoided his gaze, uneasy at the compliment until Alvan moved her head to look at him with a gentle touch.
“It is difficult being queen. I imagine it has been even more difficult bearing this secret, and I am honoured you trust me enough to share it. I trust you will make the decision you deem best. If you decide to keep this to yourself, I am here as your lord. If you decide to tell the other rulers, I am here as your confidant, and if you decide to wait and gather more information, I am here as your friend.” Alvan stepped closer, brushing his hand against hers.
Larelle did not move, holding her breath.
“Whatever it is,” he said, his breath tickling her face. “I am always here.”