Chapter 59 Princess Lily

Chapter 59 Princess Lily


LILY'S POV

It was three days later when I finally opened my eyes and found myself in my own bed, in my own chambers. The physician had agreed to let me be moved after the second day, said I needed rest more than anything and the quiet of my rooms would serve better than the infirmary. I was antsy at first, uneasy about leaving a place where healers came and went, where someone was always watching. But the physician insisted and I didn't have the strength to argue.

The only downside to being back in my chambers was that Atlas wasn't around anymore.

I knew the customs. A prince had no business in a princess's chambers unless they were blood related, and Atlas and I shared nothing but a marriage contract that bound me to his brother. Still, the room felt emptier without him leaning against the doorframe, without his eyes following me, without the weight of his presence filling up the space.

Yesterday was the first time Elliott came to see me.

"I wondered whether you were dead." He had walked in like he owned the place, his boots loud on the floor, his eyes skipping over me like I was a waste of space. "I was heartbroken about your disappearance, you know."

The physician was tending to my arms at the time, unwrapping the bandages to check the wounds underneath. I watched Elliott's face shift when he noticed someone else in the room, the perfect mask sliding into place, the concern that didn't reach his eyes.

Since we were pretending, I decided to play along. But I was going to ride his temper while I did it.

"I thought so too." I let my voice come out weak, thin. "I wondered if you were looking for me. If anyone was looking." I paused, letting my eyes drift to the window. "Fortunately, I didn't have to worry much. Atlas came to my rescue."

The tension that rose in the room was thick enough that a knife could cut through. The physician felt it too because he looked down at me with his dark eyes, pleading, begging me to let him leave before whatever was about to happen happened.

I nodded and he bowed to both of us, first to Elliott, then to me, and he was gone before the door finished closing behind him.

With the physician out of the room, so did Elliott's fake concern. His face twisted into something ugly. The usual look of disgust.

"What do you think you're doing with Atlas?" He walked a little bit further into the room.

I shrugged, careful not to upset the pain in my neck. "I have no idea what you mean."

"Are you so desperate?" His voice rose. "So desperate you would join hands with a cold murderer?"

"You're falsely accusing your wife without proof." I raised my eyebrows at him. "Again."

He crossed the room in a blink of an eye. His hands were on my throat, his fingers pressing in, ready to squeeze. I held his gaze and didn't move.

"Do it." I pushed the words out, my voice steady. "There were no marks when the physician left. When he comes back and sees one, what do you think they'll say? Rumors will spread that the prince abuses his wife."

His nose flared and his fingers trembled against my skin. Then he shoved himself away from me, pushing off the bed like I had burned him.

"What about the rumors going around about you?" He was pacing, his hands clenched at his sides. "The married princess in the arms of another prince. What do you have to say about that?"

It was obvious what he was doing, so I refused to let it get under my skin. I smiled up at him, bright but fake.

"I heard them." I tilted my head. "It fits me, don't you think? Being with Prince Atlas certainly makes me feel wanted in this palace. He commands respect and authority. More than you ever could."

That set him on fire.

He grabbed the vase from my bedside table and hurled it against the wall. It shattered, pieces raining down on the floor. Then the mirror went next, glass cracking, splintering. My jewelry box followed, contents spilling across the floor, chains tangling, stones scattering.

I laid there and tried not to flinch at the noise.

The door had opened and Queen Rhoda swept in. Her eyes went wide at the damage, at the glass and wood and metal scattered across the floor to her son standing in the middle of it all with his chest heaving.

Elliott didn't notice her at first. He was too lost in his rage, too focused on destroying whatever was left of my things.

"Elliott!" She shouted his name and he spun around, his face still twisted, his hands still shaking.

He saw his mother and marched toward her, pointing back at me with a trembling finger. "She is a whore. Just like her mother. You made me marry a whore and now she spreads her legs for_"

A heavy slap landed on his cheek, cutting through the tension that was in the room.

Queen Rhoda's hand was still raised when the sound faded. Elliott stood frozen, his cheek red, his mouth open. Surprise flickered across her face too, like she hadn't meant to do it, like her hand had moved before her mind caught up.

But the anger was still there. It was burning behind her eyes.

"Why are you so stupid?" Her voice shook. "Your wife was kidnapped, she was poisoned, she nearly died, and here you are raining abuses on her." She grabbed his face, forced him to look at me to see the tears running down my cheeks. "She is hurt. She is waiting for comfort from her husband."

The tears were fake, of course. I had pushed them out when the glass started flying, a reflex. There was nothing Elliott could do or say that would hurt me anymore.

He shoved his mother's hand away and stalked toward the door. I tilted my head on the pillow and watched him snap at the three maids standing in the hallway, their faces pale, their hands wavering as they held some kind of tray that was covered.

Another rumor was sure to spread. The prince, destroying his wife's chambers. The prince, screaming at his mother. The prince, leaving his sick wife without a single kind word.

Queen Rhoda stood in the middle of the room with her chest heaving, her face drained of color. She pressed a hand to her forehead and Miriam moved to her side, murmuring something too low for me to hear.

I sniffled, soft, and the sound broke through whatever hold the anger had on her.

She gently moved Miriam's hand away and came to sit on the edge of my bed. Her hand found my forehead, checking for fever.

"How are you feeling?" Her voice was soft now.

I wanted to say I felt like sleeping and never waking up. Not dying, just hibernation. Pulling the covers over my head and staying there until winter passed and spring came and everything was different.

But I didn't say that.

"The physician said I was lucky." I let my voice wobble. "The poison was starting to spread. If they had waited any longer, I would have lost my arms."

She brushed a stray tear from my cheek, her fingers light against my skin. "You're safe here. I should never have let you leave the palace without guards. I should have kept you close."

I gave her a small smile. "It's not your fault."

I remembered thinking, even as I said it, that the Queen had betrayed me. She had let Kathy and Maya into the palace while I was still missing, she had been ready to replace me the moment I was declared damaged goods. But I couldn't make her my enemy. Not yet. I still needed her authority, her protection, her name to shield me from the worst of what was coming.

If I had to play the victim card to hold her close, I would.

"What about my aunt Kathy and Lady Maya?" I blinked the tears away, looking up at her with wide eyes. "I heard they came to the palace."

She stiffened before scowling. "They insisted on leaving without seeing you. It was the most improper of them."

I watched her face. "I suppose they could not bear to face their own guilty conscience."

Her frown deepened. "They kidnapped you?"

I stammered, letting my voice catch. "I am not certain. I was blindfolded for most of it. But when I came to, I recognized some of the men. They work for my father. Or they used to. But my father would never have me taken." I shook my head slowly. "He would never."

The frown on her face deepened, her expression thoughtful.

I held back the smile that wanted to break across my lips. I had planted a seed. A question left to grow in her mind.