The Liberian

Chapter 59

She came from nothing, and she was no one. She had no business spending any time with the crown prince, the man who would be her future Emperor. He didn’t have time to waste on people like her. Elecia’s words cemented themselves further in her consciousness.

“Halle?”

She hadn’t even heard Fot stir.

“Morning.” Halle finished dressing quickly.

“Are you all right?”

It was annoying how Fot missed nothing. “I’m fine.” Halle began breaking down the tent.

“Was it another dream?” Fot asked.

“Enough, Fot,” Halle sighed and straightened. The Western woman was silent. Halle should’ve been too, but there was an aching feeling in Halle’s stomach that put nastiness in her blood. “Why are you always pestering me? It’s none of your concern what I dream or don’t dream, what I eat or what I don’t eat.”

Fot’s face was expressionless.

“Just leave me alone for once.” Halle grabbed her pack and stormed off, leaving the rest of the tent for Fot.

She hated herself for those words. It wasn’t Fot’s fault. The class Halle was born into, the Night of Fire and Wind, the prince’s confusing and frustrating hot and cold attitude toward Halle. Fot had no control over any of it. Halle had just taken her frustrations out on someone who wasn’t expecting it.

Halle marched alone. She found a random corner of the host to fall in with away from Elecia, Derek, Fritz, Fot, and the Golden Guard. Fritz noticed instantly and was about to ride over to her when Fot stopped him. They found themselves engaged in a heated conversation that Halle tried to ignore. They were clearly talking about her.

When the march finished for the day, Halle had imagined every possible thing Fot, Fritz, and Derek could’ve said about her. Some of the things she felt guilty for even thinking they would utter, but somehow it still seemed plausible. Halle’s shoulders hunched, and her head dipped. She suddenly felt so tired.

“Halle.” Her head snapped up, turning to look up at the dark prince who had materialized at her side. “After everyone is settled, come and we’ll begin work.”

He still didn’t specify what work, and Halle felt odd under his studying assessment. After drifting through camp, waiting for Fot and Fritz to be away to strip her armor so she could avoid any odd confrontations, Halle finally dragged her feet to Derek’s tent. She came in the same woolen clothing she’d worn in the morning—that she’d been wearing for days.

The flap of his tent was open, and Halle paused politely in the entryway.

“My prince?” she asked softly. “Am I too early?”

He was sitting at the small table marking a piece of paper before him. His armor was propped on its stand opposite the entry, and he sat in tan pants and a white cotton shirt. “No, you are fine, Halle.” He glanced at her briefly. “Close it behind you.” He motioned to a tie on the inside that held up the flap, and she obliged.

Halle was momentarily overcome from the last time she had been in his space. She quickly crossed and situated herself on a pillow opposite him. Tilting her head, Halle assessed the prince, trying to figure out what was different.

“What is it?” he asked without looking up from whatever he was doing.

“You’re not wearing any black,” she realized.

Derek paused and considered his attire. “I suppose I am not.” He finished what he was working on and folded it twice, placing it aside.It’s strange,” she said thoughtfully.

“Is it?” Derek rested his elbow on the table, his cheek on his fist.

“You’re always in black,” she explained.

“Not true.” He shook his head.

“Yes, you are,” Halle insisted.

“I wear black in public.”

“Why?”

“I will tell you, perhaps, if you tell me what cloud situated itself over your head.” Clearly her day of sulking had not been lost on him.

“I’d rather not talk about it,” she mumbled.

“I would rather you did.” He leaned forward. “Was it the dream?”

“Why is everyone so obsessed with my dreams?” Halle shrunk away.

“Because we care about you,” Derek explained.

“We?” she repeated.

“Fritz, Fot, and I.”

“Why ...” Why did he insist on caring about her? “Well, you should stop.”

“That is not—”

“I thought I came here to work on something with you.” Halle was on her feet. “I’m not doing this again, Derek. I won’t be your project.”

“Yes, yes, of course, my lady.” He waved a hand.

“Don’t patronize me.” It struck a chord with her.

“Are you not a lady?” he asked.

“I am a woman,” Halle said with a roll of her eyes. “But I am not a lady.”

“Fine then, my princess.” He smirked.

“Stop,” Halle cautioned.

“Why, my queen?”

She’d had enough and was halfway to the door when Derek snatched up her wrist. Halle didn’t even turn and look at him.

“They’re just words.” The timbre of his voice had gone low and deep.

“They’re not.” She thought of all the lords and ladies she’d seen in the palace, how different she felt on the night of the gala. Titles were more than just words. They were walls and barriers and parapets to lift up some and keep others out.

“Look at me.” He commanded and she obliged. “I could give you any of them.”

“It doesn’t work that way.”

“It does.” She made the mistake of giving him her focus, and Derek’s serious gaze consumed it whole. “One day, I will be Emperor. I could make you anything you pleased.”

“Why?” Halle whispered.

“Because ...” He was at a momentary loss for words. Then the prince did something he had a reputation for avoiding. He met her gaze and showed her the truth from which he spoke. “I would do it because it would please you.”

Halle turned to face him, searching the prince with skepticism. She opened her mouth and closed it again, unsure how to reply. She didn’t know if she was brave enough to be so bold.