Fated Eclipse: The Illegitimate Princess And Her Alpha Suitors

Chapter 12: The Water Is Cold After All

Lyria’s POV

Jacinta’s lips curved into a faint, imperious sneer as she gestured toward the door. ”Send them away,” she commanded, her voice dripping with that effortless authority she always wore as if it were a second skin. The guards shifted, murmuring to one another before remaining rooted where they stood.

A moment passed, the air suspended in quiet expectation, until one of the guards cleared his throat carefully, voice formal, carrying just enough distance to mark the separation of the corridor from the room.

”Your Highness,” he said, ”your personal maid, Kyia, insists there is something urgent. She reports that you must dress early this morning.”

Jacinta let out a long, drawn sigh that seemed to fill the chamber, stretching like smoke across the polished floors. ”Very well,” she said finally, and the corners of her mouth curved upward just slightly. ”Let the maids in.”

I stepped back instinctively, bowing my head subtly as the tension in the room shifted. The door creaked open, and Kyia entered first, moving swiftly, the authority of someone used to commanding small armies of servants clear in every motion. She was small, no taller than five feet, with dark hair tied tightly back, sharp, angular features, and piercing grey eyes that flicked over the room with precision and assessment. There was an energy about her that was almost kinetic, like she carried the rhythm of the castle in her very movements. Behind her, three other maids followed, carrying trays of delicate porcelain breakfast dishes, silver cutlery, and baskets brimming with fine linens and ribbons.

Kyia did not pause. ”Your Highness,” she said, bowing deeply yet swiftly, her voice a hurried mixture of deference and urgency, ”I have news for you. I heard the suitors are gathering in the dining hall for breakfast. It is most urgent that you prepare yourselves immediately so you can eat with them. This is the hour to be presented.”

Jacinta groaned audibly, rolling over in the bed and letting her hand sweep across the silk sheets. ”I do not wish to bathe, though,” she murmured, the words heavy with melodrama, as if the very notion of standing were an unconscionable effort.

I almost rolled my eyes at that. She had been standing some minutes before and now she was speaking like it was too much work for her to stand up.

I had to give her some accolade, though. She really put up her act well. But at least she wouldn’t have the excuse of not bathing now. I would have my time to myself, and I could finally carry out my plans for the day.

Kyia stepped closer, leaning in with precise, purposeful movements. Her eyes met Jacinta’s with the sort of authority only earned by years of navigating the whims of a princess. ”Your Highness,” she whispered softly, urgent but insistent, ”I ought to have started with this, but...” She paused before she continued. ”I spotted the Duke of Blackmere in the garden this morning. He is most... exceedingly dashing. This is your chance, Your Highness, to make acquaintance and leave a lasting impression on him.”

The words had the desired effect. Jacinta’s languid composure shifted instantly, and with a deft grace she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Her hair fell over her shoulders in a sunlit cascade, catching the light from the tall windows. She straightened her back, eyes glimmering with infatuation. My pulse stilled briefly as I observed her, so utterly enthralled by a single thought that all else seemed to vanish.

Till this day, I did not understand how she was so obsessed with someone she had never met. Someone whom her father hated, too.

Her gaze flicked toward me, and I met it without flinching. A sharp frown etched across her brow as though my very presence were an affront to her delicate equilibrium. Kyia, catching the subtle gesture, followed Jacinta’s gaze and let out a small, audible sniff of distaste. Her nose scrunched faintly, a mixture of disgust and barely contained irritation, but her posture remained impeccable.

”And why,” Kyia demanded suddenly, her voice low but firm, ”do you remain in the princess’s chambers, Lyria?”

I did not answer. My expression remained neutral, my hands folded neatly before me, my gaze unwavering.

Kyia’s eyes flicked to Jacinta briefly, then back at me. She knew exactly why I was there. She also knew I had been in the room from the moment she walked in, but she feigned ignorance at the moment.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and I could see the small, unspoken war waging behind those pale eyes. She had never liked me. She hated me and called me a bad omen. She was the one who also made sure all the other maids avoided me. Not only was I a bad omen, but I was also a demon and an ugly person whose presence was associated with misfortune.

”Kyia,” Jacinta said, her voice sharp, cutting across the tension, though I could hear the delight beneath it all. She was happy Kyia spoke to me as though I were beneath her. ”Do not behave in such a manner toward Lyria. She is to be treated with at least a tiny bit of courtesy. It is not her fault she is the way she is, after all.”

Kyia straightened immediately, her shoulders stiffening, though her sharp eyes lingered on me for a fraction longer before she moved away with precise steps. The tension between us hung in the air like a thread stretched taut.

Jacinta moved toward the washstand, her movement slow and deliberate, a slight smirk curling her lips as she dipped a finger into the water. ”See, Lyria,” she said, her voice casual but commanding, ”the water is already cold. You will need to return to the kitchens to fetch hot water once more, after all.”

I said nothing, neither did I move. The water was still hot. Jacinta was lying just to get under my skin. My hands remained folded, my eyes steady, unflinching. I simply observed, recording the minutiae of her motions, the subtle curve of her mouth, the slight twitch in her wrist.

Kyia’s patience snapped next. With a swift, precise push, she nudged me gently but firmly in the shoulder. ”Your Highness is speaking to you,” she said, her voice low but forceful. ”Why do you remain standing so, you demon?”