Chapter 38 The Honey Trial
Lyra had been up for hours, pacing around her room, tossing glittery, sequined dresses into a large chest. Each time she picked one up, she sighed at how ridiculous they looked.
She didn’t want any of these flamboyant things. In fact, she’d rather go without any of them, but every piece screamed Princess Irene! And that was exactly what she needed to pretend to be.
To survive this pack, she had to play the part and that included dressing like her.
Grumbling under her breath, she muttered, “A spoilt princess, really? How did I think this was a good idea?”
With a sigh, she rolled the chest toward the door. It was already night and a few hours before dawn. Her things were ready, and all she had to do was catch a little sleep.
Finally, she reached the threshold. Just as she was about to push the chest down the hallway, she froze.
Standing there, blocking the path, was the same man from the other day. The one who had professed his undying love to her just as she arrived at the pack.
“Let's talk,” he said stiffly.
Lyra rolled her eyes and stepped back. “Can we do this some other time? I don’t think I’m in the right frame of mind.”
But the man’s expression was serious. “This cannot wait, Irene. It’s high time we both had a conversation.”
Lyra’s brows furrowed. Did he just call her Irene? She noticed the change in his tone. The timid shyness of the other day was gone. This man was unusually bold, confident, almost frighteningly so. She crossed her arms.
“What is the meaning of this? Get out of my way! You have no right to be in my room.”
Alexander tilted his head, almost amused. “When were you going to tell me that you’re using me? I thought you said you wanted us to be together.”
Lyra’s eyes widened. Oh heavens. So Irene wasn’t just promiscuous, she was manipulative. This girl had a whole harem of admirers lined up.
How could anyone keep up? How many more men would step forward claiming her love? She shivered at the thought.
“You know what? I was wrong. You’re right. I do love you,” she said quickly, holding up her hands. “But this is the wrong time for all of this. We’ll talk when I get back from the trip with my father.”
“I insist,” he hissed.
Lyra sighed and palmed her face. “What’s your name again?”
He frowned. “Is that a joke?”
“I have a lot on my mind.”
“Alexander. My name is Alexander, and I know you’re just testing me.”
“Good. Alexander, we have to talk later.”
Alexander shook his head, taking a step closer. “No. We will talk now. I cannot let you go off and marry that Jacobson guy. I saw you first! You loved me first! You even met me through him.”
Lyra’s heart thumped. Wait, what? So Irene had really been a seductress, a girl juggling multiple men? The thought made her stomach twist. How could she possibly wriggle out of this mess?
“You’re right,” she admitted reluctantly. “It doesn’t matter. I wasn’t going to marry him anyway. It’s you I love.”
Alexander’s doubtful gaze met hers. “Are you saying this just to make me happy?”
“No,” Lyra replied firmly. “I mean it. Once all this is over, I’ll marry you.”
Alexander’s eyes softened. “Will you truly speak to your father about me?”
Lyra paused. “Of course, I mean, yes,” she said finally.
“Promise?”
“Sure, Alex. Darling,” she said, trying to sound convincing. “Of course, I’ll tell my father you’re the one I love, okay?”
He smiled faintly, giving her a quick hug. “Good. Now pack up. I’m surprised your father even agreed to this in the first place, but it’s all good. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”
And just like that, he was gone, leaving Lyra staring after him, shaking her head. She leaned back against the wall, palming her face dramatically.
“Only the heavens know how many men Irene had tangled herself with,” Lyra mused. She had to leave. She had to get out of this absurd cage.
Still half distracted, she returned to rolling the chest toward the door. But suddenly, there was a gentle knock.
A maid peeked inside. “Princess, your father requests your presence in the garden.”
Lyra blinked. “Isn’t it a little late for a stroll? I have to pack.”
The maid’s tone was firm. “It is very important, Princess. He insists.”
With a resigned sigh, Lyra grabbed the nearest robe, wrapped it around herself, and hurried down the hall. She had to assure him she was ready for the journey, whatever it took.
When she reached the garden, she found him standing with a glass in his hand, leaning casually against a statue.
“You were sleeping?” he asked casually.
“No, Father. I’ve been packing,” she replied.
He turned to look at her more closely. “You know, you’ve always loved your furry bathrobes for sleeping.”
Lyra nodded, faintly amused. “I’ll put it on later. Just not in the mood now.”
He nodded knowingly and gestured to a small table beside him. “Join me. I’m drinking honey and grape juice.”
She picked up a glass and filled it, careful not to spill. He added a drop of honey and asked her if she wanted more. She nodded, trying to please him.
Lyra raised the glass and took a tentative sip. The sweetness warmed her throat, and for a moment, she allowed herself a small smile.
But Darius’s eyes narrowed as he watched her drink the wine intently.
“How are you feeling?” he asked calmly. “Do you like the wine?”
“I’m fine. The wine tastes good,” Lyra said quickly, wondering why he asked.
Suddenly, Darius called out, his voice sharp and commanding. “Guards! Arrest this impostor!”
Lyra’s head whipped up. “What?”
“You aren’t Irene!” Darius growled at her. “My real Irene is allergic to honey. She would never drink that!”