Fated Eclipse: The Illegitimate Princess And Her Alpha Suitors

Chapter 152: What Is Said, and What Is Meant

Lyria’s POV

”State your name and title for the record,” Lady Mirelle said, her tone measured as always.

”Duke Lucian Aurelgrave of Eastmere,” he replied.

Lady Mirelle nodded once.

”And your intentions,” she continued, ”in presenting yourself as a suitor candidate?”

Lucian did not pause.

”My intention,” he said, ”is to act in accordance with the prophecy as it has been set forth. To support the Moon of the kingdom in all matters pertaining to her role, and to ensure that stability is maintained not only within the palace, but throughout the kingdom as a whole.”

His voice was calm as he spoke.

”After all,” he added, ”the role of the Moon does not exist in isolation. It requires support, structure, and those willing to uphold it.”

Lady Mirelle inclined her head slightly.

”Very well,” she said. ”Now, this is a hypothetical question.”

There was the faintest shift in the room at that. Subtle, but present.

”If,” she continued, ”you were to find yourself... inclined toward another, one who is not a Moon candidate—”

”That is not possible,” Lucian said firmly, interrupting her.

For a brief moment, Lady Mirelle simply looked at him.

Lucian met her gaze without hesitation.

”There is a reason I have come to the palace,” he said evenly. ”And a reason I have entered this selection.”

His tone did not change.

”Unless circumstances themselves change, I will not find myself in such a position where I would be inclined towards someone who is not a candidate.”

Lady Mirelle studied him for a moment longer, then gave a small nod, as though accepting the answer for what it was.

”I see,” she said.

There was the faintest pause before she continued.

”This next question has been submitted by the public.”

Lucian nodded, prompting her to ask.

”What prompted your decision to participate in this selection?”

Lucian did not look away from her.

”Personal interest,” he said.

That was all.

Lady Mirelle’s brow lifted just slightly.

”Would you care to elaborate?”

”No,” he replied.

Lady Mirelle did not press.

Instead, she inclined her head again and moved forward.

”Very well. Then perhaps you may tell us something of yourself. Anything you deem appropriate.”

Lucian frowned slightly at that.

It was brief.

Gone almost as quickly as it appeared.

”I am Duke Lucian Aurelgrave of Eastmere,” he said.

There was the faintest trace of something dry in his tone.

”I believe that is already known.”

”My preferred colour is brown,” he said. ”I favor individuals who are... expressive in nature.”

”I am particular about rules,” he went on, ”and I find it difficult to tolerate those who disregard them.”

There was a pause.

”And I hold equal disdain for those who fail to acknowledge their own faults.”

From where I sat, I noticed his valet and guard.

They both gave small, almost identical nods.

I could not help it, a quiet breath of amusement slipped past my lips.

Lucian continued, as though unaware of the small reaction he had caused.

”I do not care for sweets,” he added.

I was unaware of that. He had brought me cherry pie and even eaten it with me.

”Also, it is... well known,” he continued, his voice making me pay attention again, ”that I was not a particularly agreeable individual in my youth.”

That was one way to put it.

My fingers tightened slightly at my side.

”I believed,” he continued, ”that effort was unnecessary. That outcomes would arrange themselves in my favor regardless.”

His gaze did not move.

But something in his expression had changed.

”To those I have wronged as a result of that belief,” he said, ”I offer my apology.”

I swallowed.

Because I knew he was not just speaking to everyone, but to me as well.

Lucian exhaled quietly, then added,

”As for anything further... I believe it would be more appropriate for everyone to form their own conclusions through observation, especially as the competition will be broadcast for all to see.”

Lady Mirelle nodded once more.

”That will be all,” she said.

And just like that, it was done.

Lucian rose smoothly from the seat, offering a polite inclination of his head before stepping away.

His expression had already returned to its usual composure.

As though nothing of significance had occurred.

As though he had not just said something that lingered long after the words themselves had ended.

”Duke Alistair Thorncrest.”

The next name was called.

And with it, a shift.

Duke Thorncrest stepped forward with an ease that contrasted almost entirely with Lucian’s controlled precision.

There was a smile on his face, as usual.

He took his seat as though he had done so a hundred times before.

He looked unbothered by everything.

Lady Mirelle regarded him with the same composed neutrality.

”State your name and title.”

”Duke Alistair Thorncrest of Highmoor,” he replied lightly.

There was a warmth in his tone that did not attempt to hide itself.

”And your intentions,” she continued, ”in entering this selection?”

Duke Thorncrest leaned back slightly, as though considering the question far more casually than the situation might warrant.

”I have none,” he said.

There was a brief pause.

Then he chuckled.

”That was a poor joke, was it not?”

Lady Mirelle’s lips curved, just slightly.

”My intentions,” he continued more properly, ”are quite straightforward.”

”To support the Moon of the kingdom,” he said. ”As the prophecy dictates.”

His tone remained light.

But the words themselves were not careless.

”And,” he added, a faint glint appearing in his eyes, ”to be of service where I am required.”

He tilted his head slightly.

”At her beck and call, if one wishes to phrase it so plainly,” he said.

”If she calls,” he continued, ”I will answer.”

He paused.

”Though I suspect,” he added with a small smile, ”it may not even be necessary for her to call at all. She may simply snap her fingers, and I will appear as the loyal servant that I am right before her.”

Lady Mirelle allowed the faintest hint of amusement to touch her expression.

Then she inclined her head.

”The next question,” she said, ”has been submitted by the public.”

Duke Thorncrest nodded, that same smile on his face.

Lady Mirelle glanced down at her parchment briefly before reading aloud.

”Why,” she said, ”do you always have a smile on your face?”