Chapter 18 The Space Between What Is Said
878 Words
The music didn’t stop.
But everything did.
Amara stared at the king’s outstretched hand for half a second too long.
Then—
Slowly—
She placed hers in his.
A ripple moved through the court.
Whispers.
Star, curious, disbelieving.
“The king doesn’t dance—”
“With her?”
“Princess Ara?”
Somewhere in the crowd—
Seraphine’s expression hardened.
Amara felt it all.
Every stare.
Every thought that didn’t need words.
As the king led her into the center, she leaned slightly closer.
“You just made things worse for me,” she murmured.
His grip remained steady.
“I didn’t like what I saw,” he replied simply.
“That doesn’t mean you had to do this.”
“They were wrong.”
“That won’t stop them,” she said quietly.
“If anything, it will make them worse.”
A pause.
“I don’t care what they think,” he said.
Amara let out a soft breath.
“I do.”
He looked at her then.
Not long.
But enough.
And something in that look—
felt… familiar again.
The music slowed.
Turned.
“You’re not comfortable,” he said.
Amara gave a small, humourless smile.
“Would you be?”
Another turn.
“They’re all watching,” she added.
“And I can already hear what they’re thinking.”
“And what is that?”
“That you’ve chosen,” she said.
He didn’t answer.
Because he hadn’t.
But now—
It looked like he had.
“I didn’t bring you here to choose you,” he said after a moment.
Amara met his gaze.
“Then why did you?”
A pause.
Because I wanted to.
But he didn’t say that.
“I told you,” he said instead.
“I don’t tolerate that kind of behaviour.”
Amara held his gaze for a second longer—
Then looked away.
The dance ended too soon.
Or maybe not soon enough.
Because when he let go—
The absence felt noticeable.
🌿
The court did not forget.
Days passed—
But the whispers didn’t fade.
They grew.
“The king danced with her.”
“He never does that.”
“She must be hiding something.”
Seraphine didn’t speak to Amara again.
But her silence was louder.
Sharper.
🌿
Not long after—
The king disappeared.
“Urgent matters,” the court said.
“Private affairs,” others whispered.
But no one really knew.
🌿
Except—
He hadn’t gone far.
🌿
“You’re becoming predictable,” Amara said, spotting the guard again.
“Or you’re getting better at finding me.”
She smiled slightly.
“Maybe both.”
This time—
She didn’t hesitate to sit beside him.
“I think I made a mistake,” she said after a moment.
“How?”
“The dance,” she said.
“I didn’t think it would matter that much.”
“It matters,” he said.
“I know,” she exhaled.
“And now I can’t even get near him without… that.”
“That?”
She gestured vaguely.
“The looks. The assumptions. I don’t like it.”
A pause.
“Have you tried speaking to him?” the guard asked.
Amara shook her head.
“He’s always surrounded. Or busy. And even if I could—”
She stopped herself.
“Even if you could?” he pressed.
“I don’t want to be a burden,” she said quietly. “I’ve spent most of my life being watched. Protected. Treated like something that needs to be handled carefully.”
Her voice softened.
“I didn’t come here to feel that again.”
Lucian didn’t move.
But something in him stilled.
“You’re not a burden,” he said.
Amara let out a small laugh.
“That’s easy for you to say. You don’t know who I am.”
“I know enough.”
She glanced at him.
“You don’t.”
A quiet pause settled between them.
Then—
He stood.
“Come with me,” he said.
“Where?”
“You said you don’t like it here.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You meant it.”
Amara hesitated—
Then stood.
🌿
The path he led her through wasn’t part of the main court.
It narrowed.
Quieted.
Until—
It opened.
A hidden clearing.
Soft light filtered through tall, pale trees.
A small stream curved through the center.
Still.
Calm.
Untouched.
Amara stopped.
“It’s… beautiful,” she said softly.
“I come here when I need space,” he said.
She turned to him slightly.
“You don’t seem like someone who struggles with that.”
A faint pause.
“Everyone does.”
She studied him—
More carefully this time.
“You’re not just a guard,” she said.
Not accusing.
Just… noticing.
Lucian held her gaze.
For a second—
Too long.
Then—
Footsteps.
Not theirs.
Both turned.
A shadow moved at the edge of the trees.
Still.
Watching.
And then—
Gone.
Amara’s breath caught.
“That wasn’t—” she started.
Lucian’s expression had changed.
Sharp.
Focused.
Protective.
“Stay close,” he said quietly.
And this time—
She didn’t question it.
- Writer
