Vow Of Silence

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

1st PERSON: Pelomina Lorenzo-Capiz

I felt my chest ache and swell, I wasn’t breathing and I was gently reminded how to by none other than Lykus whose sour expression was replaced with a smile, “You need to breathe, wife,”

“Ah… yes…” I paid little attention to more than his voice.

My hands clutched at my chest. I couldn’t settle my emotions. Watching them move in sync and swish their gowns as they walked, they looked like peacocks parading about the place swaying to the music.

“My lord…”

“Hm?”

“Is it usually this beautiful?” my breath hitched once I got a hold of myself. Everything was overwhelming, so it took everything I had to look away and ground myself as I turn to Lykus.

“Not at all, this is a royal event after all,” Yulsey chimed behind me, taking a few steps to stand by my side,

Well… I guess. I can’t really tell if this was the best since this is the first time I’ve ever seen something like this. Everyone knows the steps, and the band played the piece beautifully. It was all so mesmerizing seeing their dresses and faces spinning around, the fold of their dresses swishing magically in rhythm, and the faint sounds of clapping and cheering.

“Should I bring you to the banquet?” Yulsey asked with a kind smile, offering his hand to me. I didn’t even process what was happening before Lykus grabbed my hand and linked our arms together, looking at Yulsey under his lids,

“Lead the way, Yulsey,” Lykus intoned in the same passively smug way Yulsey did to him earlier, only it was more smug than passive.

Taking no obvious offense to that, Yulsey did as he was told and we combed our way to the crowd of onlookers. Some made him stop in his tracks for a short chat as he was congratulated. Why? I have no idea. It’s not him who’s going to be the king, not sure if the crown prince finally ascending the throne means something good for him, but whatever I guess.

Soon enough we reached a broad table, rectangular because that’s how tables are during these times. Covered by white linen, or so I think—my lane is music, not fabric, otherwise maybe I could have a better sense of fashion taste. The only reason I’m not so terribly dressed is because someone else dresses me.

And the fact that Lady Pelomina would probably look good in any attire because her face is beautiful. I don’t mean anything cynical by that, it's just…

I’ve ranted about pretty privilege a lot already but it’s just hard to ignore something that's right at your face, quite literally.

‘But wait, we’re in a celebration. I need to pull myself together,’

Yulsey nodded to us with a hand over his chest, “Please fill up your stomachs—oh, not too much for Mina I suppose,” he followed, leaning in and speaking in a whisper, “Your stomach’s pretty weak to heavy eating, isn’t it?”

“My wife can handle it well,” Lykus interrupted once again. It’s getting kind of awkward how they’re bantering passively back and forth. What did Yulsey do to be so hated by Lykus and what kind of impression did Lykus give that made Yulsey act like this to him?

With a huff and a shrug, Yulsey bowed low, “Well then, I must excuse myself, please enjoy the celebration,” he said with one last smile before he left.

Once he was pretty far away, I took a deep breath. I didn’t even manage to do a lot of thinking while he was around. I didn't have a polished approach to sell the act of me being Pelomina. I hope I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary. I’m getting plenty bold because no one from the Vaustero castle is suspicious of me, but I can't act as lax here. On the contrary, don’t they all seem too happy that I’m acting more alive?

Considering that Yulsey is supposedly the real Lady Pelomina’s best friend, would he be happy to realize that I've become peppier, would an explanation of ‘I found a change of heart and chose to live my life to the fullest’ be worthy enough? Are we the kind of best friends that berate each other in childish banter, or are we overly kind to each other like sisters?

What level of best friendship do we have exactly?

“What would you like, wife?” Lykus asked behind me, looking over my shoulder to inspect the wide selection. His hand still on mine. Right, he must be hungry. The road was long, and he has a big appetite.

“Something light then? How about you, my lord?” I asked back, and he sneered, leaning close to my ears,

“I’ll eat until I make dents and craters in this arrangement,” he said in a hushed voice. It sounded like a threat, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at how serious it sounded.

“You must’ve been famished, my lord,” I added in and he scoffed,

“Regardless of whether I am or I’m not, I will make them regret they even thought of inviting me,” he replied,

I had to cover my mouth to hide the sudden burst of laughter, people were starting to look in our direction. I can’t help it though, that energy and vindication—and the execution! Just divine. Eating a lot so they don’t invite you next time, winning with a full stomach.

“You finally seem happy,”

‘Hm… what is he–’

“You looked uncomfortable the whole time, wife,” He followed, as he went over to the table and grabbed both of us a plate. He filled mine first. I guess I was too vague when I said something light, considering that this is a formal event, the portions are rather light and easy to plate.

But Lykus just took that as a challenge and filled his plate until it looked like a growing mountain of assorted food. People were sneaking glances, taking under their fans, and giggling among themselves. See, it wasn’t insulting. Well yes, maybe, but more than being embarrassed, I was annoyed, angry even.

Whatever amount Lykus puts on his plate is none of their business. Why’re they looking at him like they’re the ones that paid for it? I’m pretty sure that the king of this land would’ve paid for all of this because if Lykus, a lord, could afford such expensive frivolities, then what more could the king?

Still, I’m glad that didn’t seem to bother him… well, who was I kidding? Of course, he wouldn’t be bothered. He’s not like me. Not that I was also easily bothered.

And to prove me right, once he noticed the stares, he sneered as he brought a handful to his mouth, chewing with a satisfied yet smug smile on his face before looking at me. I bit my lower lip to hide the smile, but I’m pretty sure he still saw how amused I was.

What’s also funny is that I don’t see any chairs nearby, so we’ll probably end up eating this while standing up, it’s not a problem for me since I don’t have much on my plate and it doesn't look like it’ll be a problem for Lykus who’s just wolfing it down like it cheap bread.

We steal glances every few bites and silently chuckle by ourselves like an inside joke only we share. I should be grateful. I didn’t know I'd be this overwhelmed. If it weren’t for Lykus being by my side, I’m pretty sure I'd be lost. Not just literally. Then again, that’s not news. I’m pretty sure I’ve established that even I didn’t think he’d bring me so much comfort to the point I thought that I wouldn’t mind pretending to be his wife.

Luckily, I have issues that make me feel like I have no choice but to revert back to my old life because I’m not worth all the good things I’ve experienced.

Looking at him, somewhat adorably, eat his food made me think that he would have shared this fun moment with his real wife instead. Besides, the real Pelomina would’ve known why he’s this cross with royal gathering and why he’s indignant with the crown prince.

‘Actually… would it be okay to ask?’

Is it a touchy subject? I’d rather not delve into something like that if he needs someone to vent to. It’d… it’d be to me, right? He was adamant about me reporting every measly discomfort or inconvenience to him, he’d do the same right?

“How easily something makes you weary concerns me,” he whispered close to my ear, probably not to make everyone within a three-meter radius eavesdrop on our conversation. “What ails you, wife? Is your stomach hurting? Is the food bad?” he asked.

I shook my head at him and patted his chest, “I’m alright… I’m just thinking that…” he tilted his head down and furrowed his brows, waiting for me to finish. ‘What a worrywart,’ I sighed, “I was just thinking that the crown prince must’ve been stressed preparing all of this, considering you regarded him as a newborn fawn, if I recall?”

He huffed and rolled his eyes before straightening his back, “That man, no—boy, wouldn’t be stressed, because his mother and father must’ve been catering to his every whim and worry,” he hissed, there was some aggression in there but it’s not rage. It was more flippant than the contempt I thought he’ll have.

“Well, that sounds very much like he’s the only child of the king and queen, at least that's what it sounds like,” I replied and he scoffed,

“Right you are, but not only child, only son,” he replied, still with a hushed tone, “Everyone thinks that the royal family only has him, the single golden child, forgetting that he has five sisters, many levels greater than him,” he spat,

My food almost flew out of my mouth, ‘FIVE SISTERS?’ Then again… of course, the men are the kings. The queen does have some power, right, but even so… concubines reached to the point of being common, it could be easily suggested. Blatantly.

“That’s… sad,” I managed to word out. He nodded, setting his now empty plate down on the table,

“That’s why male-centered dynasty-run monarchy is… frankly, stupid, if not a mistake,” he said with a shrug that I snapped back into reality and did a quick sweep, looking if someone heard us. I didn’t expect him to blurt out something controversial about the royal family in their own territory and castle, moreover.

“Wh–sh—my lord!” I hissed at him, pulling him down to my level, “You shouldn’t talk about something like that so easily,” now I have no idea how much this world tolerates slander to the king or queen or whatever, but one thing I know for sure is that talking bad about those up top isn't good.

Especially when you have a very good reason to do so.

He chuckled and took my plate off my hand, setting it down on the table, “Don’t fret wife, whatever these guests heard me say isn’t the first time they heard it,” he assured, which to be honest is not quite assuring, “They might even said it themselves, but that’s not the worst part, the king is certainly a lucky man to have a son so exceptionally incompetent…” he trailed off,

But even if we spoke in hushed tones and despite the booming sound of the orchestra filling the air, it felt as if he said it with a microphone. Those words rang in my ears that drowned out every other sound. I felt a chill run down my spine along with a heavy feeling in my chest…

‘A foreboding feeling of… fear’