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"The princess is never to know exactly what her parents were involved in. Their charge of treason is heartache enough for her to bear. I do not wish the Princess, our children, or any other person to be subjected to Blanche Fanchon's toxic opinions ever again."
"May I quote your reasoning to the Broadcasters, my Prince?" Anberon's eyes flicked to me for only a second.
"You may. Make it a decree. If the Broadcasters wish, I will declare it personally." Bowing his head, Anberon left the room to do as he was asked. Caressing my cheek, Luther wiped away tears I didn't realize were falling. "I will save you any further pain from your parent's treason, Zira."
"Was it really that bad? Worse than planning your downfall?"
By the way that everyone suddenly became focused on inanimate objects around the room, I knew whatever my parents were involved in was much more than plotting the murder of the Prince.
Bowing my head in acceptance, I blew out a long breath. "Then I will accept your wisdom in this matter, my Prince, and never seek the truth of it."
Carrying a tray of food, Jervaise hesitated a moment as he assessed the room's mood, but then a smile bloomed across his face. "So, Princess, it seems executions are not your idea of a good time.”
ChapterTwenty-Two
Lifting myself out of the water, I sat on the side of the pool. All six of my Elite stood with their backs to me; two at each door. The ceiling glass was frosted so that light may enter, but no one could see in. Wringing out my hair, I took a deep breath as my hand fell absently over my abdomen. How much things had changed in the matter of a few weeks. "Elite Hartwin, what time is it?"
Turning his chin to his shoulder, Hartwin kept his eyes averted. "Lunch will be served shortly, Princess."
Moving over to the bench, I collected the swim robe Luther commissioned Master Fabrice to make. It still looked like a dress, but it wrapped from hip to hip and was made of a quick-dry material that still felt and looked pleasant.
As I closed the robe, a knock sounded at the door connecting to the Royal Guard compound. The guard must have been waiting for their chance to train, which meant I was running later than usual. "I'm done. Let's go."
Pressing the code to the Royal Guard door, Elite Dail whispered something to whoever was waiting, possibly for them to hold back until we'd left. He and Tancred then jogged around the pool to meet the rest of my guard and me by the Prince's residence door. Once together, Hartwin unlocked the door, and we proceeded through the downstairs maze to the lift system.
"Wouldn't it be easier to just teleport me everywhere if security is such an issue?"
"Every individual's teleportation chip leaves a signature and a trace, Princess. We monitor every teleportation of both public channels and our own guards, and we track them. Teleporting you everywhere would not only be a waste of energy, but it would create an excessive amount of data for the monitors to file." Side-eyeing me, Hartwin brushed my arm gently and took my hand in his. "I know you are uneasy after everything that has happened, but you are safe with us."
Hartwin knew too easily what I was thinking. The only reason I didn't argue with him at that moment was his hand holding mine. With him touching me, I felt safe. My other hand was engulfed in warmth a moment later. Surprised, I looked down to see that Chas had my hand in his. He watched everywhere around us as we walked, just like everyone else. With Hartwin and Chas holding my hands, we arrived in the outer quarters. Detaching himself, Hartwin went to stick his head into Luther's office.
The doors stood open. With Luther, his Elite, Commander Stark, Ravid, and Vered all plotting war, they needed the air. "Hartwin?" Luther acknowledged him.
"My Prince, lunch is on its way up, and I believe the Princess could use your company before she rests for the afternoon." Waiting a moment longer, Hartwin returned to my side, took my hand, and led me to the inner quarters.
"Did you think he wouldn't stop for lunch today?" I asked Hartwin once safely inside and physically seated by Chas at the meals table.
"He wants to get things organized, so they have an idea of when it will all happen. Then, the Prince has to be in Fastlandet this afternoon."
Hartwin didn't need to say Luther would have worked through lunch if given the option. Luther was spending every free moment with my uncle and Commander Stark trying to organize and plan things. Currently, I got to see my companion when I woke in the morning for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and he made the time to see me after my bath to make sure I went to sleep.
Tancred wheeled in the lunch trolley. Despite the security team clearing his staff, Luther decided that the Elite would continue to bring the meals in, and that all non-elite were forbidden access to the fourth level.
Tancred touched my shoulder. "Anberon said the Prince will be in shortly."
Waiting until Tancred left, I set my gaze on Hartwin. "When did Cyrans get so touchy-feely?"
Chas smirked as he sat beside me, forcing Hartwin to take a chair further away from me. "That would be my fault, Princess. I have informed your Elite that Avalonians are comforted by physical contact more than words. Therefore, if they wish to put you at ease, they should include physical comfort with their words."
The look I gave Chas must have portrayed my concern. Flattening his eyebrows, he touched my hand delicately. "No, Princess. I did not encourage comforting you in the same manner as the Queen. Just as I am now, a simple touch of your hand, elbow, or shoulder."
Taking a breath, I blew it out and relaxed. I'd heard how the Queen of Cyra liked to be comforted by her guard. Across the table, Hartwin was struggling not to laugh.
Chas's eyes hardened on his plate. "Besides which, it allows for physical interaction between yourself and your captain, which will raise no suspicion with the Praldians if it is seen as normal for your guard."
The laughter in Hartwin's eyes died as he glared at Chas. Watching them in my peripheral vision, I stared at the bowl of food in front of me, trying not to respond.
"The Princess subconsciously reaches for you, Hart. Not in full. But her hand will twitch, or she will clasp her hands together whenever you are standing near her. She does it around the Prince as well, but the last week has seen her hold back less."
