Chapter 4 CHAPTER FOUR
ROSALINA
It's been days since....well everything. Days since Zade arrived, days since the guards claimed no "Grayson" existed, days since...Grayson himself denied himself. Things between Zade and I had been going smoothly, I guess. He continued to be charming, perceptive and undeniably handsome. We'd shared more conversations, more laughs, more of those unnevering eye-locks that made my stomach flutter. But my mind was somewhere else...on someone else.
Ever since that day, he seemed to avoid me even more. He was always close, like a silent shadow in Zade's retinue, yet impossibly far. I'd learned he was Zade's personal guard and had been for five years. If I'm correct, Grayson should be 25 now, since I'm 22. It's been a decade since we last saw each other...yet...
"Something isn't right," I shook my head muttering under my breath, the words more to myself than anyone else.
"What isn't?" I heard Zade ask, his voice soft, almost a whisper, from beside me. He had a way of noticing things, of honing in on my unspoken thoughts.
I looked up at him, to see his piercing blue eyes staring deep into mine, filled with an unsettling blend of concern and curiosity. I sighed internally, feeling exposed, and quickly glanced over at Grayson, who was still claiming to be Cyrus, he was standing a distance away, as always. Then I looked back at Zade, forcing a shrug.
"Nothing, actually, I'm just tired," I lied.
He smiled softly then reached out for my hand. "Want to see me do some archery then? It's quite invigorating."
Immediately, my mood lightened, a spark of genuine interest breaking through the gloom. Archery was one of my few passions, a skill I'd secretly honed against my parents wished for 'ladylike' pursuits.
"You know how to do archery?" I asked, a hint of surprise in my voice.
"Yep," he said proudly, leaning back into his chair, a boyish grin tugged on his lips. "Cryus taught me. He's quite the master,"
My eyes flickered to Grayson- well, Cyrus, who upon hearing his name, turned and gave a stiff formal bow at Zade. "You flatter me, my Prince." he said, his voice flat, his gaze still avoiding mine.
"Always too formal, Cryus." Zade teased, a playful glint in his eyes. Grayson stood upright again. For once, his eyes never met mine, he always made sure to avoid them, to present a blank, unreadable wall.
God! This is so annoying!
My patience was wearing thin. Was he that pissed at me? Or am I truly mistaken! Is it possible that my heart was so desperate for a connection to my lost past it decided to play tricks on me? Or had he lost his memory?
I glanced over at him again, taking in his features. The strong jawline, the way his dark curly hair fell over his forehead when we wasn't wearing his helmet, the faint, almost imperceptible scar above his left eyebrow....the same one I'd accidentally given him during a clumsy sword fight when we were children.
No. That was definitely Grayson. It may have been ten years, but it is. I know it is him.
~
Eventually, we all went to the training field, a vast expanse of flattened earth bordered by wooden targets and weapon racks. Upon sighting us, all the guards and servants present immediately bowed, their activities grinding to a respectful halt.
"Please, pay no attention to us and carry on," Zade said, his voice carrying clearly, as he walked gracefully toward the archery stand, picking up a finely carved yew bow and a quiver of arrows. He turned, catching my eye, and winked. Then with a practised ease that surprised me, he nocked an arrow, drew the string taut, held his breath for a brief moment, and released. The arrow sliced through the air with a faint hiss and thudded squarely into the center of the furthest target, a perfect bullseye.
"Wow," I gasped, my heart swelling. "That's impressive, Zade! Truly!"
He grinned, a triumphant, boyish look that made him even more endearing, he dropped the bow back onto the stand and walked closer. "Like I said, I learned from the best," he gestured to Grayson who stood stiffly a few yards from me, his eyes still fixed on Zade, denying my existence.
Doesn't he know that ignoring me only proves that I'm right?
"Oh really?" I taunted, I turned to Grayson. "Show me then, Cyrus. Prince Zade seems to be really impressed with you. Prove it."
Just as he was about to open his mouth and protest, which I knew he was about to do- I could see the subtle tightening around his lips, the slight tremor in his hands. Then Zade spoke up, his tone unexpectedly supportive.
"Indeed, why not Cyrus? If you may? I'd love to see a demonstration of your true skill again."
Cyrus sighed, a barely audible puff of air, the sound laced with resignation that almost made me feel a flicker of guilt. He walked toward the table, as he passed me, I swore I heard him mutter something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like. 'Bloody hell stubborn Princess.' It sounded like utterly him that made a small chuckle escaped my lips.
He picked up the bow and arrow, his movements fluid as he took his stance, his feet planted wise. I watched as he drew the bowstring back, his muscles coiling, his gaze narrowing at the target. Then, with a breath held tight, he released. The arrow flew, a silver streak, and with an almost impossible precision, it pierced straight through Zade's arrow, splitting it perfectly down the middle before embedding itself in the bullseye.
"Woah." I gasped, utterly amazed, my jaw literally dropped.
That wasn't just a skill, it was artistry, a fucking statement.
He dropped the bow, a soft thud, and gave a brief formal bow. As he rose his head, for a fleeting moment, our eyes met for the first time in days...and I saw it...why he was avoiding my eyes. A flicker of raw pain, a profound sadness in those gray depths, but it disappeared as quickly as it came, replaced by the familiar mask of indifference.
We spent the rest of the afternoon talking and walking- well just Zade and I, Cyrus remained far. Honestly, Zade and I were getting along than I imagined. Dear Gods, was he a sweetheart? Soft, yet rigid and principled. He had a natural charisma and balanced his Royal duties with genuine human warmth. He had the qualities to be a good leader...and maybe a husband and a father. The thought of our married gnawed at me with a new unwelcome intensity.
It wasn't like this until Grayson came back. Which is why I needed to be sure. I need to find out if Cyrus is Grayson so I can put an end to this infuriating confusion.
But then...if he's truly Grayson...am I ready for what was to happen? And would I make the right decision?