Fated Eclipse: The Illegitimate Princess And Her Alpha Suitors

Chapter 217: Nervous Confessions

Lyria’s POV

I frowned.

My confusion must have been evident upon my face, for Lucian’s expression shifted slightly beneath my scrutiny.

”I d-do not understand,” I said. ”Who did you s-seek to impress?”

Lucian stared at me.

His eyes widened faintly at the question, and then, to my surprise, he laughed.

It was not a quiet chuckle, nor the restrained, courteous sound I had heard from him before. This was something else entirely—a genuine, disbelieving laugh that escaped him before he could seem to restrain it.

He shook his head as he laughed.

”I truly ought to take lessons from Evander,” he said.

I blinked.

”The Duke of B-Blackmere?” I asked, my frown becoming a permanent fixture upon my face.

He nodded.

”He suggested as much.” He paused, still shaking his head faintly. ”I believe I am beginning to understand why.”

I did not follow his meaning in the slightest.

”Understand w-what?”

He waved a hand vaguely, as though dismissing the matter altogether.

”It is nothing you need trouble yourself over.”

A brief silence followed.

I continued staring at him, and after a moment he cleared his throat lightly.

”You are improving,” he said, his voice returning to its usual composed register.

Ah.

So we had returned to the dancing lecture, and I became quite certain he had no intention whatsoever of revealing who had inspired him to take his lessons seriously as a child.

”But we shall require more lessons,” he continued. ”One session will not be sufficient for you to dance comfortably at the upcoming ball.”

I nodded.

”I a-appreciate your h-help,” I said quietly. ”Truly.”

He was silent for a moment.

”You ought not to thank me,” he said at last.

I frowned again.

”Why n-not?”

”Ordinarily,” he said, ”you would have fled the moment I came this close to you. If anyone ought to be grateful, it is I.”

I blinked.

Then, despite myself, I laughed softly.

”That is true,” I admitted. ”We d-do not possess a particularly favourable history, you and I. Especially concerning our younger years.”

Lucian’s expression shifted at once.

Something flickered across his features—regret perhaps, or discomfort.

”That is true,” he said more quietly.

I looked at him then.

”Y-you are n-not the same as you were before,” I said. ”I k-know that.”

His gaze met mine fully.

”You have demonstrated it q-quite well,” I continued. ”Though I have n-not reached a final conclusion yet.”

He laughed again—softer this time, though no less warm.

”I suppose that is fair,” he said.

I turned my attention toward the windows.

The sunlight had shifted whilst we danced. The warm gold of morning had faded into something paler now as the sun climbed higher toward midday. The shadows upon the polished floor had shortened considerably.

”It s-seems this d-date must c-come to an end,” I said.

Lucian frowned immediately.

”Why?”

I looked back at him.

”The t-time—”

”The date has only just begun,” he interrupted. ”We have scarcely spent any real time together at all. Apart from dancing, we have done nothing else, and you must put something into your stomach besides tea. I am quite certain you have eaten very little since dawn.”

I opened my mouth to protest.

Then closed it again.

He was not incorrect.

”B-but I did enjoy this d-date,” I said. ”You are t-teaching me s-something no one has ever taught me before. I a-am grateful for that.”

”That is all the date has been thus far,” he replied. ”Dance lessons. We have been so occupied with the steps that we have hardly spoken at all.”

He paused briefly.

”Surely you are not bored already.”

”I am n-not b-bored,” I said at once. ”Why would you even think such a thing?”

”I know I am not particularly skilled at sustaining conversation,” he continued, as though he had not heard me. ”But surely I cannot bore you so thoroughly that you would rather be elsewhere.”

I stared at him.

”S-since when did you acquire such l-low self-esteem?” I asked.

He blinked once.

”It is not low self-esteem,” he said. ”It is... nervousness.”

I tilted my head slightly.

”N-nervousness?”

”Yes.”

”About what?”

He looked directly at me then.

”About this,” he said. ”About you. About being here with you.”

I frowned.

”You are n-nervous around me?”

He exhaled softly.

”Yes.”

I stared at him in complete bewilderment.

”Why?” I asked. ”There is n-nothing about me that should make anyone nervous. I am q-quite ordinary. Perhaps even l-less than ordinary.”

Lucian shook his head just as a disbelieving laugh escaped him.

”You truly do not see it,” he murmured.

”See w-what?”

He did not answer immediately.

He simply looked at me, his expression caught somewhere between exasperation and something far softer.

”Nothing,” he said at last. ”Never mind.”

I frowned deeper.

”That is the s-second time you have said that,” I pointed out. ”I would much rather you speak plainly than avoid the q-question altogether.”

He sighed softly, as though resigning himself to something inevitable.

”You are not ordinary,” he said.

I blinked.

”If you insist that you are,” he continued, ”then I suppose I must be ordinary as well.”

”T-that...” I frowned. ”I am q-quite confused.”

”Ly—” He stopped himself and shook his head faintly. ”Your Highness, there is nothing ordinary about you. I realised that long ago, and I am reminded of it every time I speak with you.”

I said nothing.

”You are courageous in ways most people are not,” he continued. ”You are steadfast. You are gifted. And even your appearance is not ordinary. Hair such as yours is uncommon enough on its own, and eyes like yours are rarer still.”

”B-but the same could be said f-for you,” I argued quietly. ”Only those w-with direct lineage to the royal family possess eyes like yours.”

He smiled faintly at that.

”That is not entirely true, Your Highness. Others possess eyes similar to mine. My mother herself is of direct royal descent, and yet her eyes are brown. Such traits skip generations at times.”

He paused briefly before continuing.

”And when I speak of you being extraordinary, I do not merely mean your appearance. Your circumstances are not ordinary either. Nothing about them is.”

I opened my mouth to dispute that statement.

Then paused.

Perhaps he was not entirely wrong.

Even down to the matter of my existence itself, there had never been anything ordinary about my life.