Chapter 6 -Avianna-
\-Avianna-
The banquet feels too easy. Everything is exactly as it should be. The candles burn evenly, the table flawless, and the food is being served without hesitation. Conversation hums at a measured level as though the entire room has agreed that nothing unusual happened earlier.
As though a man did not try to attack me.
I pick up my glass and take a sip, okay maybe a gulp, of wine. It's stronger than I expected.
“Princess,” Rhydon says, turning toward me with perfect timing.
“Prince,” I reply.
He studies me briefly, his expression composed.
“You handled yourself well earlier,” he says.
“I had very little to do with it,” I answer lightly. “My guard was far more useful.”
His gaze flicks past me, to Caylix, before returning.
“Still,” he says, “composure in moments like that is… important.”
Important. I take another sip of wine. Across the table, Charlotte lets out a soft breath, her attention already shifting toward us.
“I suppose that depends,” she says lightly, her gaze settling on me. “Some people are very good at remaining composed when others are doing all the work for them, right Avianna?”
There it is. I was wondering how long it would take her to insult me.
“I find it more efficient to rely on people who know what they are doing,” I say, lifting my glass to take another sip.
Charlotte’s smile sharpens. Rhydon watches the exchange with interest, he is not unsettled by tension, he’s entertained by it. Charlotte doesn’t miss his reaction, her eyes flick to him briefly, as if confirming he enjoys the same kind of game she does.
“So,” I say, turning back to him before Charlotte can continue, “what do your people need right now?”
Rhydon pauses.
“Our people are stable,” he says. “We maintain strong infrastructure and consistent governance.”
That’s not what I asked. I tilt my head slightly. “That’s good. But what do they need?”
Another pause.
“I believe,” he says slowly, “that a ruler’s responsibility is to ensure systems are in place so that needs are met without direct intervention.”
I hold his gaze.
“So you rule from a distance.”
“It allows for clarity,” he replies.
I feel something tighten in my chest. I reach for my wine again.
“And what do you do,” I ask, my tone lighter now, almost conversational, “when you are not… preparing to rule?”
That seems to settle him.
“I maintain an active social calendar,” he says. “Public appearances, events, gatherings.”
“And outside of that?”
“I train,” he says. “Sport, mostly. It keeps discipline sharp.”
Sport. Parties. Appearances. What an honorable man. I study him for a moment. Everything about him is… well-spoken and composed. And yet, there is nothing underneath it that feels grounded in anything real. Behind me, the tether shifts, attempting to calm me but falling short. The pressure in my chest tightens again, sharper now. Because this is not just a conversation. This is a glimpse into my future. A ruler who is seen, but does not see. I set my glass down because if I don’t, I might say something I cannot take back.
“I need some air,” I say, rising before anyone can respond.
I don’t wait. I get up, and walk out of the room. The night air hits me, and I do not realize how badly I needed it until my lungs finally expand. I draw in a breath, pressing my hands against the cool stone as if it might steady something inside me. It is not just the effects of the wine. It would be easier if it were.
“Careful,” Caylix says quietly behind me. “If you run any further, they will assume you have abandoned diplomacy entirely.”
I let out a breath that turns into a soft, unsteady laugh.
“That might be the best decision I could make right now.”
He steps up beside me, close enough that I feel the shift in him immediately. Present, grounded, entirely here. Not the guard. Not the weapon. Just…Caylix.
“That bad?” he asks.
I turn to him, and the words come out before I can filter them.
“He speaks like he understands what it means to rule, but he does not. He speaks like everything is something you arrange neatly and then step back from, like people are pieces you move into place and leave there.”
My voice is getting faster, I know it is, but I cannot seem to stop it.
“He said rulers should stay at a distance,” I continue, pushing off the stone and turning toward him fully now. “That it gives clarity. That it keeps things efficient.”
Caylix watches me carefully.
“And I'm supposed to marry him, stand beside him and build a life with someone who thinks distance is strength.”
I shake my head, pacing now without realizing it.
“How do I do that?” I ask, more to the night than to him. “How do I marry a man who does not care about the people he is meant to protect?”
Caylix’s voice is quiet when he answers.
“You don't know that he doesn't care.”
“I do, Caylix,” I insist, turning to face him fully now. “I felt it. He does not know what they need, and he doesn’t want to know. The kingdoms need this alliance, so it will happen, and I will stand there and say the vows and smile like I chose it.”
My throat tightens.
“But I did not.”
I exhale slowly, forcing the tension down just enough to think.
“I must make him see,” I say. “If he actually sees what it’s like here. The laughter, the connection, the people...”
I step closer without thinking.
“The market,” I say. “If he walks through it, if he sees them, hears them, feels it the way I do, maybe that will change something.”
Caylix studies me. The wine hits my balance as I turn, my footing catching on the edge of the stone path before I can correct it. I barely have time to register it before I am falling. Caylix catches me easily, one arm firm around my waist, the other steadying me before I can stumble further. I freeze for half a second, then laugh softly.
“Well,” I say, blinking up at him, “the ground appears to have developed a personal grievance.”
His mouth curves. “I will be sure to have it thrown in the cellars immediately.”
I shift slightly, testing my balance, though I do not move away from him just yet.
“Also,” I add, glancing at him with exaggerated consideration, “being caught like that was… concerning.”
His brow lifts slightly. “Concerning?”
“Yes,” I say, nodding once. “It felt like running into a wall. You should consider easing off the sparring. It’s becoming excessive.”
His smile deepens, “I have never had a complaint about my physique before.”
I look at him, unimpressed.
“There is a first time for everything.”
He huffs a quiet laugh, the sound low and unguarded in a way he never allows inside the palace. The tension in my chest eases.
“I should go back,” I say.
“You should,” Caylix agrees.
I take one more breath, then I turn.