Chapter 44:

"You beat me."

"You sound surprised," Lucien laughed, his eyes twinkling and head dipping back, and Lyla tucked a piece of hair behind her ears.

"No one's ever beaten me before," she admitted, setting aside her final chess piece. "You're smart."

"Again with the surprise-"

"No surprise, simply..." Lyla trailed off, her cheeks twitching with the attempt not to giggle at him, and dammit, why did they have to leave now? She barely knew Lucien, to be fair, but she wanted to know him, if she had more time.

Lyla was still reeling from the events of the night before. She'd barely spoken to Ari and Aveline since, though she knew what needed to be done. And to think, she'd taken the hand of one of those horrible men- Alexei, greeted him like a friendly acquaintance...

She had been mistaken. The people here weren't good. They were corrupt, and greedy, and-

"What's the matter?" Lucien seemed to sense her discomfort and had leaned back in his chair, his eyes glued to her.

Lyla glanced up at him, a sudden urge to confide pulling at her.
"Do you ever just... not belong?"

As soon as she said it, she knew it didn't make sense. Lucien cocked his head. His hair had been freshly washed and a few coppery strands shone in the light of the parlor hall. Lyla was supposed to have come to say goodbye...

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I wish to go home, but I don't quite know where home is," Lyla said to her lap. "I thought I did, but then..."

"I've never thought of home as a place," he replied simply.

"No?"

"I reckon home can be people, as well. Friends, or family... if you have one." A frown appeared in his brow. "My family situation is a bit complicated, to be frank."

"Mine too."

They tentatively smiled at each other.

"So, then, Apreuna isn't home for you, Lady Quincy?" He ventured, tone light and teasing as he began to reorganize the chessboard.

"It's Lyla, I told you," she scolded, playfully, settling back into her chair. "They hardly notice me, though, I suppose it has always been this way," Lyla continued, nearly to herself- not looking for sympathy in any manner, but rather, contemplating what she would have to return to.

That didn't matter. All that mattered was that her friends, the crew, the children, were all safe.

"I notice you," Lucien said softly. Lyla's gaze shot up, her heart fluttering, just as he bashfully glanced away.

"I am sorry to go," she admitted. His brown hand, resting on the table, looked soft, and she wondered how it would feel in hers. Then, all too quickly, Lucien pushed out his chair, standing.

"I know you must," said Lucien, "but to answer your question...yes, I have felt before that a sense of belonging has somewhat eluded me." Sincerity flooded his tone, and he took a short, embarrassed breath. "So if you need anything... anything at all, please, don't hesitate to ask."

Lyla could do nothing but give a stuttered nod as Lucien grasped her hand in his, bent over it, and pressed his lips to the skin there. Her chest felt as light and buoyant as a feather floating atop the ocean.

And then Lyla tried not to think about why she had to leave.

Lyla wandered slowly back down the corridor in search of Ari and Aveline. She'd only returned to pay the royals their respects, hopefully absolving any suspicion they had of her and her friends, and make her goodbyes. But neither Camille nor her father were anywhere to be found, and Lucien seemed to have distanced himself from them enough to hold little knowledge of anything. Which gave Lyla immense relief, to be certain, but she was still at a loss.

A sudden thought striking her, Lyla turned onto the hallway near the assembly room, where they had attended a music concert the week before. She reached the end and opened the door. It was empty, predictably; rows of black chairs greeted her, the candelabras unlit.

Lyla faced the hallway, thinking. She and Lucien had been speaking right here... which room had she seen Camille exit from? She started back down the way she came. She was certain it was on the right side, but the king's Capital house was such a maze. She'd heard there were four different bathing rooms, a theatre, and even a menagerie somewhere.

Lyla slowed as she heard voices emitting from one of the walls at the opposite end of the corridor. There.

She picked up her skirts, hurried up to the closed doorway and pressed her ear to the wood.
"I would appreciate some silence at this moment." This was the king; she was sure of it.

"But sire-"

"I do not wish to hear it!" There was a loud crash, the sound of glass breaking, and Lyla nearly jumped out of her shoes. "I didn't intend for this. I inherited the crown and duties of my father, as he had with his father before him. I was assured that if I worked with the distributors and allowed their business in our kingdom, then money would follow. If they can't keep their selling discreet, then it isn't my problem. I wasn't supposed to handle any of this horseshit, first with Captain Moraine sniffing at our skirts, and now this."

Silence followed. Lyla strained to hear.

"I assure you, Majesty, that your business matters will remain strictly confidential. And the pirates are, as you say, taken care of."

Taken care of? Lyla's heart paused.

"Father," this was Camille's voice, then; high and uppity; "you have nothing to fret about."

"I was not addressing you," he snapped at her. "I would cancel your birthday ball tomorrow, if we hadn't already invited half the kingdoms. Do you have any idea what ruin you have caused?"

"Ruin?!" Camille bravely plowed on. "It was my information which gave you an excuse to 'take care' of Ari and Aveline, and without me you would have still been floundering about like a caught fish, hoping they wouldn't betray you to Queen Rowena."

The king's voice was barely controlled. "Where is Lucien? Isn't he supposed with you all of the time?"

"He's off with that wench, Lyla Quincy." Jealousy swelled in her tone. Lyla was too absorbed in their conversation to care at that moment.

"'That wench' Lyla Quincy is cousin to the crown prince of Apreuna!" King Cedany exploded. "I couldn't care less that those pirates killed the Earl; they are her close companions, not to mention the most dangerous convicts of the fifteen islands. We very much needed them on our side, and if you think that by exposing them you have somehow done Verignes a favor, you are sorely mistaken!"

"Oh, please. They're hardly dangerous."

"You know nothing, Camille, as your actions over the past few days have proved most effectively."

"But I am not finished. Father, if you could just trust me, I will show you-"

"You are. Quite finished. You have disappointed me enough."

"You'll see." Camille sounded as if she was crying, now; angry, choked tears. "Just you wait."

King Cedany didn't bother to reply.

Someone else was speaking, now, but Lyla had heard enough. She backed away until she bumped into the wall behind her.

Ari and Aveline were gone. She had no idea where they were, or what could have possibly happened to them. And she was in danger.

The bronze doorknob in front of her jiggled and began to turn and her heartbeat jolted. Lyla whirled around, gathered her skirts and bolted as fast as she could back down the way she came, hoping no one could hear her slippers pounding on the marble floors.

As she ran, she frantically wiped moisture from her cheeks.

She needed to find where they were keeping Ari and Aveline. If they had simply been locked up somewhere, and weren't—

No. Lyla wouldn't let herself finish the thought. Ari and Aveline were alive. They were untouchable.

And the king had spoken of them in present tense, Lyla remembered, relief sweeping through her at the thought. It didn't take long for the feeling to disappear, however, quickly replaced with a stark chill of fear.

For the first time in a long time, Lyla was truly alone. Stranded in a king's mansion in the middle of a kingdom filled with psychopaths, but there were no formidable pirates to protect her this time. Jamie was gone, she'd wisely gotten the hell out of there, no doubt before she could be dragged into the mess that Lyla was in now.

She had to go to the ship. No. To Eli. Eli was still here. He would know what to do. He could help her-

Something grabbed both of her arms. A person, that she'd nearly run straight into. Lyla shrieked.

"Lyla?" It was Lucien. Blinking at her with warm brown, long-lashed eyes. "You're still here. Are you alright?"

He seemed genuinely surprised to see her. A tiny part of her hoped it was a pleasant surprise, and then she scolded that part viciously, because now was not the time.

Tears were still spilling over her cheeks. Lyla shoved at his chest, and he stumbled backwards.

"Ask Camille."

"Camille? What-" Lucien's eyes widened, and then narrowed. "Did she do something to you?"

"She threw Ari and Aveline in prison, or worse!" Lyla passed her hand over her eyes— she had no idea what to do. "Your kingdom is corrupt and horrid. Ari tried to tell me, but I wouldn't listen, he-"

"Lyla, listen, calm down." Lucien was soothing her, trying to pacify her as he smoothed his hands over her shoulders. "We'll find your friends."

"I don't know what happened to them," she hiccuped. "The king said they were 'taken care of.' What does that mean, Lucien?"

His face hardened. "I don't know." Lucien's thumb brushed under her collar, grazing the side of her neck before falling back to his side. "I'll talk to Camille."

"Oh, Lucien, will you?" Lyla pleaded. "I don't know what I'll do if they..." she trailed off. Somewhere in the distance she thought she heard someone shout her name.

"Of course. I promised you I would help if I could, and I will." Lucien's expression was stony, now, focused as he looked past her. "I'll return shortly."

Thank mercy. Lyla caught his hand and he glanced back at her.

"Lucien." Lyla had no idea what to say. Her voice sounded desperate and frightened to her ears. "Thank you..."

He pursed his lips. "Be careful."

Lucien strode away purposefully, dark breeches and boots disappearing the further he went.

Lyla started; she'd heard her name again, closer this time.

Half a second later, Eli appeared, skidding to a stop across from her. He was breathing hard, a sandy lock of hair sticking to his forehead.

"Lyla!" He panted. "Are you alright?"

"Eli." She nearly sobbed with relief. "I'm fine, it's Ari and Aveline, they've..." She cut herself off abruptly.

Captain Moraine marched towards her behind his son, though in much more dignified manner, and with less sliding on the floors. He nodded curtly at her, and Lyla glared at him fiercely through her tears.

"They have been arrested," he finished for her. His voice was deep and solemn.

"Arrested?!"

"Yes, for the murder of the Earl." Eli was still scanning her up and down as if to be certain she had no injuries. "Are you alright? I worried that they would take you too."

Lyla found herself staring at him as if he were a stranger. "This wasn't your doing, was it?"

"Are you joking? Of course not."

"Well, what about him?" She jerked her chin towards his father.

"I have no quarrel with you, nor your friends," said Captain Moraine with a weary sigh. "They were taken into custody this morning. It's not as much the assassination that Cedany cares about- that was years ago- but they knew too much. He arrested them as soon as he was given an excuse."

"Wait." Lyla drew back, confused. "So, you aren't working with the king?"

"Lower your voice," Captain Moraine hissed.

Lyla waited. Eli nudged his father with his elbow.

"I owe you and your friends an apology," he said finally, his voice stilted and almost awkward. "I didn't trust them... well, it wasn't until the tournament that I realized that you were investigating the king, just as I was," he continued. "Cedany ordered your kidnapping in the Verignes palace. He thought it would stop you from digging. We weren't behind it— I thought you should know."

"Then..." Lyla chewed on her lip, hope seizing her, "you can help me save Ari and Aveline."

But Eli's father was already shaking his head. Her heart sank. "I'm afraid that isn't possible."

"Why the hell not?" she demanded. Eli wouldn't look at her.

"I know your friends had your reasons, but they committed a serious crime when killing Earl Cedany. I cannot intervene, even should I like to." The Captain's voice became stern. "My guards are here representing Kaidia to investigate and uphold the law. It's a covert assignment, and I will not drag my kingdom into a potential war because of your personal matters-"

"They're not personal matters!" Lyla was quickly losing her temper. "We found an entire case of evidence of the Verignes narcotic trade in half the time that you've been here 'investigating'. Some might say Ari and Aveline have done your job better than you-"

"And look where their methods have taken them." Captain Moraine's hand slid tiredly down his face. "I wish I could help you, Lady Quincy; I truly do."

Helplessly, Lyla turned to Eli, who seemed to be engaged in an engrossed study of the tips of his boots.

"Why don't you come with us, Lyla?" He suggested. "We aren't any help to Ari and Aveline if we're in prison, and you aren't safe here. We'll figure out a way to help them that isn't completely impulsive-"

"No, there's no time." Her tone grew agitated. "I'm shocked at you, Eli. Aveline would have done it for you."

His eyes burned emerald into her. "Don't think I'm not trying to save her-"

"Fine." She cut in. She wasn't even listening anymore. "I'll find them myself."

"Lyla-"

But Lyla had lost her patience. Anger prickling up her fingertips, she wheeled around to leave.

"Where are you going?!" Eli called after her. "Don't do something stupid-"

Lyla stormed away as Eli's voice ebbed into an echo against the stone.

She traced the silver lines in the floors with her eyes as she hurried off; not quite certain where she was going. She passed by the occasional servant, bustling about with trays and food and decorations for Camille's birthday ball tomorrow.

Lyla forced herself to focus. What was she to do? Perhaps Lucien would return soon, with answers. He would help her. Or-

"Lyla?"

Her blood froze. Camille.

"Your Highness," Lyla muttered, turning around to sink into a placid curtsy. Her fingers trembled in the silk of her skirts.

The princess, outfitted in a glossy gown of scarlet, advanced towards her. "I thought you would have left by now."

"Yes, well," Lyla watched the princess closely. "I'm waiting for Ari and Aveline. Have you seen either of them?"
Lyla tried to look as oblivious and innocent as possible. She had lied for Tristran and for Ari and Aveline, and could do so now. She was usually a good liar.
But then, so was Camille. Whose eyes were narrowed at her.

"I'm not certain," she said, smiling. "May I escort you to your room while you wait for them? The city is not very enjoyable today, I'm afraid— we're all making preparations for my ball tomorrow."

Damn. Where was Lucien?

"Yes, of course, happy birthday, Your Highness," Lyla stammered, "what I mean to say is— no, that's alright, I was actually looking for Eli, I believe he is lurking around here somewhere."
He wasn't, and she knew it, and she knew Camille knew it, and Lyla wished she would have gone with him and his father when she'd had the chance. Camille wouldn't hurt her, she didn't think- she wasn't allowed to- but that didn't mean she wasn't dangerous.

"I believe he is out," she said, smiling. "Let us go to my room, then. We can find the perfect gown for you to wear at my ball tomorrow! We're about the same size."

The expectation that Lyla would still be in Verignes for her birthday ball, when Camille knew she was supposed to depart that morning, made Lyla swallow. She glanced frantically about the foyer; empty save for the princess and the two muscular, bored-looking guards by her side. The doors were far across the room, and Lyla would be caught in a moment besides.

"A-alright," Lyla said timidly, wincing and cursing herself. She'd just sealed her fate, but what else was she supposed to do?

Camille flashed her teeth as she grinned. "Marvelous."

Lyla let herself be shuffled on by Camille, dread sinking deeper with every step she took back down the corridor. The doors were only a few hundred yards away, if she could make a break for it, maybe-

"We're here!" Camille's voice was a singsong. ""I'm certain we can find something for you in my closet somewhere. I have millions of dresses, you know-"

Lyla barely heard her. Like a lamb to the slaughter. Camille was opening the door, dismissing her guards, and Lyla wiped her sweaty palms on her gown as she stepped into the princess's chambers. The air was heavy with different floral scents and perfumes, and Lyla nearly tripped on a taffeta gown that was balled up on the floor.

Lyla whirled around. "Wait, Camille, Your Highness-"

But the princess was gone. The lock clicked. And Lyla found herself alone.