The four of them, Lia, Tyrell, Julian, and Tavia, were making their way back from Leviathan Hall, past the monster tapestries.
The captain practically had a spring in his step, as he walked with an arm around Tavia’s shoulder. She was more floppy than springy, using her little remaining energy to keep her eyes open.
“I . . . am so sorry, Captain,” Tyrell said. He had the posture of a snowdrop, his vacant gaze running along the floor. “I slandered you, I threatened you, my behavior has been nothing but shameful.”
“It neither began with you, nor will it end with you,” Julian stated matter-of-factly.
“That’s no excuse,” Tyrell mumbled.
A knot twisted in Lia’s stomach. Tyrell, honorable soul, couldn’t absorballthe blame.
“It was more my fault, Captain,” Lia volunteered. “I’m the one who sought the slander, and when I had it, I—I never questioned it.”
“No one does,” Julian replied, keeping his subtle smile well in place.
Once again, Lia felt prickles of annoyance. Yes, she had horribly wronged him, but he didn’t get to play martyr when he had multiple opportunities to correct her assumptions and instead, leaned into them.
“Don’t you care at all about these rumors?” she scoffed. “Why do you let them spread?”
“I’m a natural blue.” Julian shrugged. “I’m used to the stares and pointed fingers. He stopped talking for a moment and Lia assumed that he would not grace them with further explanation. Then he continued. “I stopped trying to bend myself to their expectations long ago.”
“Even if those expectations involve murder and witchcraft?” Tyrell questioned.
“For a captain my age,” Julian remarked dryly. “Being feared is an asset.”
Lia appreciated his perspective but wondered if there was a bit more to it than that. Julian was quiet and reserved and maybe feared noble company as much as noble company feared him.
Princess Tavia released a deep sigh and suddenly pulled away from the captain. “Lia, I’m exhausted,” she sighed. “Take me to bed.”
Lia would have assisted automatically, if Tyrell hadn’t suddenly straightened up and jumped in front of her.
“You still haven’t apologized,” he snapped.
“For what?” Princess Tavia asked, lifting her heavy lids a little.
Tyrell’s face went scarlet. He clenched his fists and breathed in and out until his color returned to normal.
“Really, my Lord,” Lia mumbled. “It’s alright.”
Julian, for his part, was leaning back, and scrunching his lips slightly as his gaze moved from Tyrell to Lia and back again. There it was—that devious little sparkle in his eyes. Was he actuallyenjoyingthe unfolding drama?
“You think loyalty is something you can just cast off and then take back whenever you like?” Tyrell seethed, his attention still focused on Tavia.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, my lord,” Tavia shrugged.
“I used to think you were a great lady,” Tyrell scoffed. “Well, Lia might not wear your crown, but she’s a thousand times the woman you’ll ever be.”
Lia went rigid. Defending a woman was certainly a knightly thing to do, but he had just taken things way too far. Did he forget that Tavia was his king’s daughter?
Julian was likely about to step in to defend his own beloved now—a thousand images of the imminent sword fight flashed across Lia’s mind before she noticed something off.
Tavia was starting to jitter, then she broke into a broad grin.
“It worked!” she squealed. “It worked! It worked! It worked! It worked!”
She danced around for a moment, before throwing her arms around Julian’s neck. “Didn’t I tell you it would work?” she squeaked.
“You did, darling,” Julian stated through a lazy smile. “You’re very astute.”
