Fated Eclipse: The Illegitimate Princess And Her Alpha Suitors

Chapter 404: A Burden Not Her Own

Lyria’s POV

”An’ what d’ye fink, Zachary?” Helen asked. ”D’ye truly believe what ye’re sayin’?”

Zachary’s jaw tightened.

”I believe what I ’eard,” he said. ”I ain’t sayin’ I know everyfin’. But I know what I ’eard.”

Helen shook her head slowly.

”I fink ye just want ter blame the princess,” she said. ”It’s easier ter blame someone than ter look at the truth of fings, ain’t it?”

Zachary opened his mouth.

Helen continued before he could get a word out.

”Tell me somefin’, Zachary.”

She planted both hands upon her hips.

”Ye’re a commoner, same as the rest of us. What ’ave ye done ter ’elp yerself? What ’ave ye done ter make fings easier fer the princess? Or fer anyone at all?”

A murmur moved through the room.

Zachary’s expression hardened, but he did not immediately answer.

A patron near the back spoke up instead.

”’Ow are we supposed ter make fings easier fer ’er?” he asked. ”We’re nofin’ but common folk. What can we do?”

Helen turned toward him.

”Ye can start by not blamin’ ’er fer everyfin’,” she said plainly. ”Ye can start by trustin’ ’er.”

She swept her gaze across the room, unhurried, making sure it landed on each face that had been listening.

”An’ in fact, ter me, the burden on the princess is already too much. No one ’as asked ’er if she wants ter be in the position she’s in now.”

Her hand lifted briefly toward the door — toward the palace that stood beyond the streets and the lantern-lit cobblestones outside.

”She’s only there because one man wiv a big mowf announced there was another princess. An’ then she was dragged out inter the light before she ’ad a chance ter take a single breath. She ’as ’ad no time ter breathe since then.”

She paused only long enough to let that settle before continuing.

”One moment, she’s livin’ as she always ’as. The next, she’s bein’ paraded before nobles, watched by strangers, judged by every fool wiv an opinion, an’ expected ter smile as though none of it matters.”

Several patrons lowered their eyes.

Helen was not finished though.

”All of us watch the competition. All of us see ’er up there. ’Er every word is monitored. Every movement watched. But we don’t mind askin’ more of ’er because we feel she’s one of us, someone ’oo ’as suffered under the rule of the spiky.”

A patron near the middle of the room frowned.

”Spiky?” he repeated.

Another man gave a quiet snort beside him.

Helen nodded firmly, entirely unbothered.

”Yes. Spiky. I ain’t wantin’ any of those stupid fools ter enter me tavern an’ take me away. I’ve got money ter make an’ sense ter speak inter fools like ye lot.”

A few people laughed.

Even Jacob’s mouth twitched at the corners.

Zachary opened his mouth again, clearly unwilling to let the matter rest.

Helen turned toward him before he could manage a single word...again.

”An’ don’t fink I’m sayin’ ye’ve got no reason ter be angry.” She told him. ”I’m sayin’ ye’re angry at the wrong fing.”

Zachary only stared at her and she pressed on.

”Every common person like us is puttin’ their ’opes on someone ’oo ’as ter learn ter navigate through more fings than most of us could manage in a lifetime. In a place that was familiar ter ’er, yes, but still unfamiliar in every way that counts.”

She took a breath.

”Fer Goddess’ sake, she don’t even speak like the privileged sometimes. She speaks direct. Plain. An’ now she ’as ter learn what their ’idden meanings are, the way they say one fing an’ mean anuvver entirely, the way they smile at ye an’ it means somefin’ different from what a smile is supposed ter mean.”

That was true.

I was learning more every day for precisely that reason. Some used particular words deliberately, knowing I would struggle with them, because it gave them a small and quiet advantage. I was getting better at seeing it. But I was not there yet.

Helen continued.

”An’ we — we common people — ’oo now put our weight on ’er shoulders, what was stoppin’ us from doin’ somefin’ fer ourselves before she showed up?” Her voice carried an edge of frustration now. ”Why are we puttin’ the weight on a young woman ’oo ’asn’t ’ad the chance ter be ’erself freely? Not once. Not even fer a day.”

”Do we plan ter make ’er more like a caged bird?” she asked. ”The cage even smaller due ter our expectations, when she should not be caged at all?”

Zachary shifted in his seat.

”It ain’t our fault she’s in the position she is,” he said.

”No.” Helen’s answer was immediate. ”It ain’t. But we can be kinder, can’t we? We can try ter understand what she’s workin’ wiv. An’ personally, I don’t fink the princess is weak. I fink she needs time. An’ I fink she deserves the chance ter ’ave it.”

A voice from the back of the room spoke up.

”An’ ’ow much time does she need?”

Helen’s eyes narrowed in the direction it had come from.

”’Ow much time ’ave ye spent in me tavern,” she said, ”an’ don’t ye ’ave a ’ome ter be in?”

Several people chuckled.

The man at the back lowered his head. The patron beside him laughed quietly into his drink.

The tension in the room did not disappear entirely — Zachary still sat with his untouched glass and his tired eyes — but it had eased enough that people had begun to breathe again.

I sat very still through all of it.

I admired Helen for speaking as she had. I had always admired her confidence. The way she moved through a room and made it her own, the way she said things that nobody else would say and said them so plainly that there was no comfortable way to argue against them.

And perhaps that was why the words affected me.

Because Zachary was not entirely wrong.

I had been foolish.

I had spoken without calculating what the crown would do with what I handed them.

The distinction between causing something and giving someone the excuse for it was real.

But it was a cold comfort to the people being dragged from their streets at this hour.

I looked down at the table.

If I wanted to protect anyone — truly protect them, not merely speak on their behalf and hope for the best — then I needed to become stronger. Not simply in resolve. Not simply in the willingness to speak when speaking was dangerous.

I needed to become strong enough to know when silence was the wiser choice. Strong enough to think several steps ahead rather than responding to what was directly in front of me. Strong enough to carry the weight of my own decisions without expecting others to bear the consequences of them.

Just then, Jacob turned toward me.

”What’s yer opinion, lass?” he asked.