Chapter 79 The night before the thunderstorm
Gusto cool wind slapped Isabella in the face as she sat by the garden, the noise from the beds of the air filling up the silence.
“Can't sleep as well?” Lucien's voice sounded from behind her, making her turn.
She gave him a small smile. “Can't as well?” As she spoke, she made space for him to sit beside her.
“How long have you been standing behind me?”
Lucien shrugged. “Long enough to know something is bothering you.”
A small chuckle escaped Isabella’s lips.
“How are you?” Lucien asked. The question was sincere.
Isabella sighed. “Tired but alive.”
Lucien nodded. “I can imagine?”
“Can you?” Her voice was teasy.
“It's quite late. Can't sleep?” Lucien said, instead.
Isabella shook her head. “Been spending my late nights in the garden. It's therapeutic.”
Lucien nodded. “I felt so tonight and needed to clear my head.” His voice was raw, unfiltered.
They both stared into the space, their fingers intertwined as they battled with their individual thoughts.
“You wanna know what I'm thinking?” Lucien began, breaking the silence.
“What?”
“It's funny how nothing prepares you for situations like this.” His smile was bitter.
“How do you mean?” Isabella knew where he was headed, but she needed him to continue speaking. Listening to him speak would calm the storm in her heart faster than anything.
Lucien sighed. “Being King comes with you proving yourself not just to the pack, but to the provinces, the Lords, the regions and everyone involved.
Isabella nodded, urging him to continue.
“You also have to prove yourself to your enemies, you know, show them how ruthless you can be and all.”
A soft sigh escaped his lips. “And now that you're king, hoping for a seamless rule.”
“Seamless?” Isabella chuckled.
“Okay, fine. Not seamless.” He said with a small smile. “To you, you've defeated all that there is and suddenly something comes up, throwing you off balance.”’
Isabella squeezed his hand in comfort.
“But that's not the whole point. Right now, you have a woman and a son to look after. You're not fighting for yourself alone.”
He finished, the weight of his words hanging in the air. The birds flying squawked as though they could understand, flapping their wings in fright.
“Even the birds agree with me.” He grinned, making Isabella smile.
“You wanna know what I think?” Isabella muttered.
“Always.” Lucien squeezed her palms.
“I find myself these days, thinking about how loyalty is fleeting. No one is loyal anymore. Everyone seems to be fighting for what's going to benefit them and not standing on the right side of the truth.”
Lucien sighed. “You're absolutely right. I find myself thinking of it too.”
“Why do I feel like I can smell a ‘but,’ Isabella smiled.
“There's actually a but, but it's something good. It's a good but.”
“Alright then,” she grinned. “Shoot.”
“The right side of truth huh?” Lucien hummed. “It's subjective, and I'm not trying to be philosophical.”
Isabella chuckled at the last part of his statement. “But that's exactly what you're doing.”
She'd not laughed this genuinely in three days. Talking to Lucien always seemed to bring some sort of relief to her.”
“Nope, it's not.” Lucien shook his head, grinning. “I'm just saying…” he paused, his eyes narrowing to the sides. “You know what? Let's forget about these philosophical conversations and enjoy each other's presence.”
Isabella grinned, tightening her grip on his hands. “You're right, but there's also something else on my mind.”
Lucien groaned. “Not again,” he muttered, earning a pinch from Isabella. “Alright, I'm listening.”
“You know, I used to think just like you, about the worst that could happen.” She began.
Lucien nodded, urging her to continue.
“I'd experienced everything there was to experience in Harlan's household, you know, everything I thought there was.”
She chuckled. “Apparently, it's not everything.”’
Lucien smiled at her attempt at creating humour.
“Now, it's worse. Really, worse and like you said, you're not surviving for yourself. You have a son, and a mate.”
They both sighed, falling back into silence.
“And that's not all,” Isabella said suddenly, sitting up.
Lucien groaned. “Seems you've been waiting for an opportunity like this to vent.”
Isabella nodded, smiling. “It's really lonely up there, you know.”’
Lucien rolled his eyes. “I know.”
“You're also trying to survive in a world not built for you.” Her voice was solemn, devoid of all its initial playfulness.
“You did not choose to come to the world with these qualities you have, yet you are punished for this. As a child and now, as an adult.” Her voice shook.
Lucien drew her to himself, his hands on her shoulders. “I'm really sorry you have to go through this.”
Isabella sniffed, allowing herself to be petted by him.
“I just wish it could all be over, you know and we get to return to how we were.”
Lucien nodded. “I would give anything to not be separated from you guys.” His eyes hardened.
“I'm sorry, I know you have a lot on your plate.”
Lucien waved off her apology, literally. “It feels good to hear your voice.”
Isabella sat up, her eyes narrowing as if she had just realised something. “You just said something about not being separated from us.”
Lucien sighed softly. “We're making plans,” were the only words he said.
Isabella nodded. “Should I be worried?” She was barely audible, wary of the guards patrolling the palace environs, even though there were none in view, she couldn't be too confident that they were alone.
Lucien shook his head. “Plans are underway.” He matched the tone of her voice, although his was a bit higher.
“I'm pretty sure you heard he was confronted today.” Lucien continued.
Isabella nodded. “I was proud. Told Elias about it, even, and he couldn't stop talking about it.”
Lucien chuckled, a look of pride seated prettily on his face. “It feels good to know.”
Isabella hissed slightly, at his puffed chest and raised shoulders, touching him slightly on his arm. “You were saying?”
“Oh, that.” Lucien sighed. “Confronting him is our way of telling him we know of his plans. I may still be the king, but he has the numbers.”
“And?”
“We leave tomorrow. To the northern plains. It's time to assemble the troops.”
Isabella sighed. “This is a lot. It's all becoming real.”
Lucien nodded. “And there's something you should know.”
Isabella raised her head. “The moment we are out of sight, he'll come for you.”
Isabella grunted. “I've known that for ages.”
“Since Elias basically lives in your quarters, you both will be moved to the East Wing.”
Isabella’s lips curled into what seemed to be a painful smile. “That's just basic courtesy for prison, isn't it?”
Lucien's silence gave her the answer she'd been looking for.
She was about to speak, when they heard footsteps approaching them.
Lucien's hands immediately went for his sword, while Isabella reached for her belt. She'd consistently hide a small knife there for situations like this.
“My Lady?” Betty's voice rang out at the entrance of the garden.
Her hands relaxed. “Over here, Betty.”
She smiled as she saw Betty lead a sleepy Elias to where they sat.
“He woke up and insisted on seeing you,” Betty said as she handed Elias to Isabella, curtseying to Lucien before she gave the little family the space they deserved.
Isabella carried Elias into her arms as she smiled. “He's been doing this for a while. Insisting on seeing me when I'm not around.”
Lucien nodded, reaching for the little boy.
“Hey little man,” He called, making Elias raise his head.
“Daddy?” The boy called unsure if he was still dreaming.
“That's me,” Lucien muttered with a smile.
Elias brought his fingers to his mouth as he stared at Lucien, studying his features. “Beware of the sneaky man, daddy. I think they are all waiting for you.”
He muttered, closing his eyes as he rested his head on Lucien's shoulders falling asleep.
Isabella beckoned for Betty to take Elias out of the garden. “I'll be with him soon,” she muttered apologetically in her ears as Betty whisked Elias away.
“That's strange.” She was the first to break the strange silence that had permeated the garden.
Lucien grimaced. “A part of me hopes it's the sleep talking or his subconscious and not what he knows.”
Isabella nodded. “I want to think that too, but it's too specific to ignore.” She glanced at Lucien. “Do you have any idea what he's talking about?”
Lucien shook his head. “I'm afraid not. Whatever vision he had seen should have helped him to be more specific.”
Isabella rolled her eyes. “Damien?” She guessed.
“Nah,” Lucien grunted. “There are a thousand and one sneaky men in the army, with everyone fighting for their own interests.”
“Sloane?” She guessed again.
Lucien paused. “Another impossible factor.”
They fell into comfortable silence, their hands giving them warmth as they dug through their subconscious, wondering what it was their seven-year old child was trying to convey.