“Your horse is fine,” Tyrell replied. “The lighthouse keeper is taking care of him, and,”
He motioned toward Lia. “Shehas a name. It’s Lia.”
If Lia wasn’t so worried about Tavia, she might have found Tyrell’s defense amusing. Afterall, he thought her name was Leah only a few hours ago.Well, at least he tried.
“The captain told you that, my lord?” Lia said to Lane. “Did he make it back to the castle with the princess?”
“Yes, and then they sent me to rescue you two,” Lane explained, before looking back at Tyrell. “So tell me, did you and bluey have a fight or what?”
Tyrell closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the seat. “Just get us back, Lane.” he grumbled.
“Ah,” Lane grinned. “So the fight is ongoing. Very good!”
8. Things Get a Lot Worse
Lia decided the best course of action was for her to talk some sense into the princess so she sent Tyrell to speak to Tavia’s father about the situation while she did just that. Unfortunately, Lia found the door to Tavia’s chamber locked upon her arrival.
“Princess?” she pleaded, pounding with her fist.
“Go away!” came Tavia’s voice from somewhere within.
“Please just let me talk to you,” Lia begged.
“There’s nothing to say!” the princess retorted. “I’m leaving for Castle Salamar in the morning. We’re getting married.”
Lia’s heart leapt into her throat as she thought of the forbidden wing in that wicked place, the one that smelled like death and was haunted by the cries of Julian’s victims. That’s why the captain spared her at the lighthouse . . . he was waiting to bring her home before striking. Clearly, Tavia’s infatuation (or maybe Julian’s witchcraft) had driven her mad. Reasoning wasn’t going to work. Perhaps if she could convince the princess to delay long enough, she would lose interest in the captain of her own accord.
“But . . . but . . . what about the wedding?” Lia tried. “Haven’t you always dreamed of a summer wedding? What about thatgolden dress you wanted, with the crimson embroidery? We’ll need time to have it made.”
The door creaked open and Tavia peered out. Her hair was still tangled and wet from the rain, her makeup was running. It was taking conscious effort on Lia’s part not to tackle her and tie her down until everything was fixed.
“I don’t care about that anymore,” Tavia sighed.
“But that’s always been your dream!” Lia gasped.
“A silly, girlish dream that doesn’t matter,” Tavia insisted. “Julian made me realize that.”
“He told you your dreams don’t matter?”Lia gasped.
“There are things more important than extravagant weddings,” Tavia lectured. “Julian wants something more humble andso do I.”
Who was this person who had replaced Princess Tavia?Taviahad her entire wedding planned out since she was five years old.Taviawould practically faint in horror when her makeup smudged.
The Tavia Lia knew thought appearances were . . . admittedly probablytooimportant. (And this was coming from someone who made her living improving appearances).
“Princess, will you at least let me come in and help you clean up?” Lia begged. “Your hair is frizzy.”
Tavia answered with a twisted scowl. “Do you know what the captain told me today beforeyouso rudely ruined everything?” She hugged herself with her arms and rocked back and forth with a dreamy smile. “He saidhe’sall I’ll ever need.”
The scowl returned when she looked back at Lia. “And he’s right. I don’t need you fussing over me any longer! You’re dismissed, good day!”
Tavia slammed the door.
Lia’s jaw dropped, her cheeks flushed, as rage filled up every corner of her being.
“He’s all you need!” Lia yelled in disbelief. “You think Julian knows how to do hair?Have you seen his?”
The door flew open and Tavia blew forth like a tornado. “That proves it!” she cried. “I knew it! I knew it!You hate Julian because of his blue beard!”
