Fated Eclipse: The Illegitimate Princess And Her Alpha Suitors

Chapter 88: Of Shadows That Dare Speak

Lyria’s POV

I was irritated.

That was the simplest way to put it.

Though even that felt insufficient—too mild, too neat a word to contain the tangle of emotions coiling within me. Irritation, yes. But also anger. And humiliation. And something far sharper beneath it all—something that pressed at the edges of my composure, threatening to fracture it if I so much as allowed myself to linger upon it for too long.

I walked quickly.

My steps were swift, purposeful, carrying me away from the garden with a determination that bordered on defiance.

Bees.

Of all things.

I pressed my lips together.

Jacinta knew.

Of course she did.

She knew very well that I detested them. That I avoided this garden for that very reason. That the mere sound of their wings was enough to set my nerves on edge.

And yet—

But then again, was it truly surprising?

I exhaled slowly, forcing my breathing into something steadier, something controlled.

No.

It was not.

Jacinta had never required a reason to hate me.

My existence had always been sufficient.

I lowered my gaze as I turned into the corridor that would lead toward the main wing of the palace, my fingers curling faintly into the fabric of my skirt.

Perhaps—

The thought came unbidden.

Perhaps I deserved it.

I dismissed it almost at once.

No.

No, I did not.

I had done nothing.

Nothing but exist in a space where I was not wanted.

Nothing but breathe in a place that would have preferred I did not.

And for that—I was punished.

My steps slowed.

There was no sense in returning to my chambers.

Jacinta’s expression, that carefully arranged smile with its sharp, hidden edges—I had seen it too many times not to understand what it meant.

She was displeased.

And Jacinta, when displeased, did not simply allow matters to rest.

No.

She ensured they were... addressed.

I adjusted my direction without hesitation.

The fact that she had not yet summoned me did not mean she would not.

And it would be far worse to be fetched than to present myself of my own accord.

At least this way—

At least this way, I retained some measure of control.

However small.

---

The corridor leading to Her Highness’s chambers was quiet.

The guards stationed at intervals did not so much as glance at me as I passed, their expressions fixed in the rigid neutrality expected of them. The maids I crossed lowered their heads, stepping aside without question.

It was as though the palace itself understood where I was going.

And why.

I came to a halt just outside her chambers.

For a moment, I allowed myself a breath.

One.

Two.

Steady.

Then I straightened, smoothed my hands over my skirt, and stepped forward.

The guards stared at me with surprise before opening the doors.

Jacinta stood near the centre of the room, her posture rigid, her expression... I did not have time to study it because her hand moved immediately she became aware of my presence.

The nearest object—a porcelain flower pot, delicately painted—was lifted and sent flying in my direction with remarkable force.

I stepped aside on instinct.

The pot shattered against the wall behind me, fragments scattering across the polished floor.

The sound echoed, and then silence followed.

I remained where I was, my head bowed.

”I see,” Jacinta said, her voice soft. ”You have learned to evade my strikes.”

I said nothing.

She crossed the distance between us in swift, deliberate steps, the rustle of her skirts the only warning before she stood directly before me.

”Who,” she demanded, her voice rising just slightly, ”gave you leave to make such a spectacle of yourself?”

My fingers tightened in the fabric of my dress.

I bowed lower.

”Your Highness,” I said carefully, ”I meant no disrespect.”

”No disrespect?” she repeated, her tone incredulous.

I kept my gaze lowered.

”It w-was not my intention,” I continued, ”to cause any d-disturbance. However—given my... a-affinity toward b-bees, it was perhaps inevitable that I would r-react as I did.”

The words had barely left my lips before the impact came.

It was sharp and sudden.

Her hand struck my cheek with enough force to turn my head to the side.

For a moment, I tasted blood.

”Affinity?” Jacinta repeated, her voice now cold. ”Is that what you call it?”

I remained silent.

”You,” she said, each word deliberate, ”are a shadow.”

Her fingers closed around my chin, forcing my face upward.

”And shadows,” she continued, her eyes locking onto mine, ”do not speak back to the one who casts them.”

I swallowed but didn’t say anything.

Her grip tightened slightly before she released me with a small, dismissive push.

”Or is it,” she went on, her tone shifting—softening into something far more dangerous, ”that you have grown bold?”

I did not answer.

”That would explain it,” she continued, pacing slowly now, circling me as though I were something to be examined. ”The Baron’s intervention. His concern.”

She let out a soft, humorless laugh.

”You speak as though you are entitled to an explanation.”

”I d-do not—” I began.

Her hand struck me again.

Not as hard this time.

But enough.

”You do not speak,” she corrected sharply, ”unless spoken to.”

I bowed my head once more.

She turned away from me then, her laughter rising—light at first, then sharper, edged with something unsteady.

”How amusing,” she said. ”How very amusing.”

”You believe yourself clever, do you not?” she asked suddenly.

I was not in the right state to answer her, so I said nothing.

”You place yourself before him, draw his attention, allow him to—what was it?” She gestured vaguely. ”Rescue you?”

My fingers tightened again.

”T-hat was not my intention,” I said through gritted teeth.

Perhaps if I had not been used as a trap to attract the bees, I would not have drawn attention to myself.

”Of course it was not,” she replied, her tone dripping with mockery. ”Such things never are.”

She stepped closer once more.

”You may have succeeded in capturing his attention and seducing him,” she said, her voice lowering, ”but do not mistake that for anything of value.”

I said nothing.

”He is a Baron,” she continued. ”A suitor. A man of standing.”

Her gaze sharpened.

”And you are a shadow. He will tire of you,” she said. ”If he has not already.”

My silence seemed to irritate her further.

”You think yourself different?” she pressed. ”Special? Is that it?”

I did not say anything, and that just seemed to annoy her more.

”You will reply when spoken to,” she growled at me.

I drew in a slow breath then.

”There is only one matter upon which I would offer correction, Your Highness,” I said.

Her brows lifted slightly.

”Oh?”

”I did not seduce the Baron,” I said, my tone remaining respectful, even. ”He extended assistance where it was needed. Nothing more.”

I paused.

”And I would note,” I added quietly, ”that such assistance was not offered by any other present.”

The room stilled.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence.

Then Jacinta’s lips curved into a smile.

”Kyia,” she said lightly, her voice carrying a dangerous amusement, ”did you hear what she just said?”