Identity (The Kingdom Chronicles Book 3) Page 6

  Despite Prince Liam’s continued animosity, my resolve to improve my marriage remained. I fought against the ring’s attempts to get me to sleep in and managed to wake up early each morning to take breakfast with him. Rather than the gesture improving our relationship, he viewed it as another move in what he considered our cruel game and retaliated by getting up even earlier in order to avoid me. Even on days I managed to eat with him, all my “good mornings” and attempts at conversation remained stubbornly unacknowledged.

  Prince Liam wasn’t the only source of contention. I felt as if the ring and I were engaged in a constant tug-of-war between emulating the princess’s rude behavior and my fighting to maintain any sense of myself. I faltered several times, and with each biting retort the ring forced from me, the more Prince Liam became convinced my kindnesses were nothing more than an act.

  But the more I fought to resist the ring’s power, the more I emerged as conquerer in our battle of wills, and the less the ring seemed to fight me, as if my determination to maintain myself was causing it to lose strength. Yet this success didn’t fully usurp its control over me and did nothing to lessen the contention between Liam and myself.

  Still I pressed forward. I watched him at every opportunity, trying to glean any information about my husband that I could and showing kindness to him whenever possible. My favorite place to observe him from was the window seat of my bedroom, where I could watch him in the garden below. During those times and while witnessing his interactions with the servants, my earlier conclusions were confirmed—he was a kind, thoughtful man, always ready to offer others an easy smile. He was also full of life and boundless energy, which he tried to expend in his frequent outdoor walks, hours of horseback riding, and restless pacing of the corridors after long periods of sitting.

  These glimpses—as well as my favorable memories of him prior to our marriage whenever he hadn’t been around Princess Lavena—gave me hope and renewed my determination to forge a friendship with my husband. This was the true Prince Liam, a man I ached to know personally—a wish that would be impossible with his determination to remain distant from me.

  But despite his open disdain, I couldn’t help but admire him. Like myself, he was trapped in a loveless and forced union, an arrangement likely more suffocating for one who loved life as he did than it was for me. Although he was clearly unhappy about the arrangement, he did offer me occasional moments of softness––respecting me enough to stand when I entered a room, helping me with my chair, and never raising his voice or physically hurting me.

  Yet these few tender mercies didn’t dispel his coldness, the hatred filling his eyes, and his mocking smiles whenever he delivered a particularly biting blow with his words. I endured all of this along with our tense, silent meals and his continued avoidance. I felt like I was slowly dying from neglect with each passing day. I couldn’t live like this.

  Eventually, Prince Liam grew tired of the silent treatment and came up with a new game. The evening that marked our week anniversary, I entered the dining room for dinner to discover parchment, quill, and ink midst the dishes of steaming food.

  “Good evening, Liam.” As usual I didn’t expect a response. To my surprise, one came—in the form of a scornful smile.

  “For once it is a good evening, Lavena, for now it’s my turn for a move.”

  I crinkled my nose. “A move?”

  “Yes, one for this game we’re playing. Have a seat and I’ll explain.”

  Trepidation knotted my stomach as I shakily accepted his invitation. The look in Prince Liam’s eyes was calculating, with no sign of the sweet, jovial man I’d caught glimpses of whenever I spied on him.

  He steepled his fingers and leaned forward. “You’ve tried to best me with your own game of supposed sweetness, but as you are about to find out, I don’t go down without a fight. Thus it’s my turn to play one with you. Seems only fair in this war of ours, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Please, Liam, I don’t want to play these games with you.” Even in my desperation I managed to remember to omit the prince before his name, hoping doing so would appease him. Unsurprisingly, like all my efforts, this one too proved futile.

  “Come, Lavena, stop pretending. We both know what you’re really doing.”

  “I’m sincere in that I don’t like fighting with you. Really, Liam.”

  He snorted. “You truly think that after seven years I’ll believe you’ve had a sudden change of heart?”

  No, I didn’t, but I still hoped. I couldn’t bear the thought of being trapped in a loveless union with a man who hated me just for the sport of it. But I was. Everything was such mess.

  I twisted the ring, aching to yank it off. “Things are different now. I want us to work. Please believe me.”

  “I can’t. What are your words now compared to your past actions?”

  “But what of my current actions?” I asked. “Do they mean nothing? I’m trying to show you I feel differently, that I’m different. My actions before the wedding don’t matter.”

  “You’re wrong; they do, for I remember all of them.” He tapped the side of his head. “Believe me, not a single memory is pleasant. Now, shall we begin?”

  He gestured to the parchment in front of me, which contained a map of the summer palace. Liam twirled his quill between his fingers with another mocking smile that didn’t at all light up his eyes.

  “Before our marriage”—his mouth twisted on the word—“we engaged in a war simply for the pleasure of hurting one another. Now that we’re forcibly attached”—he spat this word like a curse and my heart constricted—“I thought it time we change tactics on how we fight this war of ours.”

  I shook my head. “Please, Liam.”

  As usual he ignored me. He dipped his quill into the inkwell. “I thought we could draw up battle plans. First, let’s select our weapons. Mine up until this point have admittedly been rather weak: silence and avoidance, whereas yours has been fake kindness.” He scribbled these down. “Do you have anything to add, Lavena?”

  I bit the inside of my lip to keep my burning tears at bay and shook my head.

  “Let’s discuss strategy.” His tone was that of a military general discussing plans for going into battle. “I’ve wielded my weapon of retreating in order to survive, but you seem determined to track me down in my strongholds, obviously luring me into a false sense of security before going in for the kill. You’re a formidable opponent, Lavena, I’ll give you that.”

  My escalating tears clogged in my throat, making it difficult to breath. I bit my lip harder until it bled.

  “Shall we divide our territory?” He snatched the map and began to draw rigid strokes. “I’ll take the west side of the palace and you can take the east. The only neutral territory is this dining room, where we’re forced to interact at least once a day, but after that, we agree not to cross enemy lines. I’ll draw up a formal contract and we can—Lavena?”

  Liam had been so caught up in his speech that he hadn’t even realized until now that I was crying, having lost the battle against my emotions as Liam discussed the battle plans for our marriage. His quill slipped through his fingers as his gaze followed each tear that trickled down my cheek.

  “Lavena?” He hesitated. “Are these tears real or are you just trying to manipulate me into giving you a bigger area of the palace for your territory—”

  “Are these tears real?” My voice shook. “How can you even ask that?”

  Liam swallowed. “Then they’re—”

  “How can they be anything but real with the cruel way you’ve been treating me?” I stuttered. “But you don’t want them to be real; you only want to believe they’re merely a ploy in this ridiculous game you think we’re playing. But I can’t live like this anymore. I’ve shown you nothing but kindness since our wedding, but you seem determined to make our marriage miserable. Why does it baffle you that I want more than to be enemies with my husband?”

  “Lavena, I—”

  But
I couldn’t hear any more of his biting words. I’d finally had enough. I jostled the table as I stood, knocking over a pitcher of water, which soaked his battle plans, smearing the ink so that the territory lines began to disappear. He also stood, reaching for me, eyes wide with remorse.

  “Lavena…I’m sorry.”

  I picked up my napkin and flicked it in the air like a white flag. “I surrender. You’ve clearly won the war. I hope you enjoy your prize. I’m not even sure what you were fighting for. Loneliness? Misery? A loveless, tense union? If so, then I’ve clearly won, too, because that’s all this is and apparently all it ever will be.”

  I threw my napkin on the table and strode towards the door.

  “I don’t want this,” Liam called after me. “I’ve never wanted this.”

  I turned to see his wide, glassy eyes, full of vulnerability and his own fierce unhappiness.

  “Neither do I,” I said. “But now that we have this, you don’t seem to want to make it anything different.”

  I left the dining room and pressed myself against the wall near the doorway to take several shuddering breaths, allowing my pain to wash over me. When I finally stirred, I risked a single glance back into the dining room. Liam had sunk into his seat and buried his forehead in his hands, his face twisted in despair. Despite the hurt still encasing my heart, sympathy for him pierced my defenses.

  Chapter 6

  The following morning, I startled when I opened my bedroom door and discovered Liam nervously waiting for me. He blushed the moment he saw me and lowered his eyes.

  “Good morning, Lavena.”

  I stared, trying to discern whether the husband who hated me was really standing here now. When I’d been silent too long, Liam raised his gaze, his own filled with exasperation.

  “The silent treatment again, Lavena?”

  Oops. “I’m sorry, I’m just surprised to see you. Good morning, Liam.”

  He managed a wry smile. “If you think you’re surprised, imagine how I’m feeling.” He glanced uncertainly down the hallway in the direction of the dining room. “I thought perhaps you’d like to have breakfast with me.”

  “Really?”

  Still not looking at me, he nodded.

  Well, this was a surprising turn of events. I took his arm, which he’d extended somewhat reluctantly. Still, it was a start.

  He escorted me in silence, one much different than the kind that had filled our first week of marriage, as this silence was filled with awkwardness rather than tension. He cast me many sideways glances and kept frowning down at our connected arms, as if to discern whether or not we were really touching.

  “How did you sleep?” I asked when the silence became too much. He startled before relaxing.

  “Well enough, thank you.” We’d turned a corner, walked an entire hallway, and had just begun our descent down the stairs before he added, “I dislike sleeping. Too much else to do.”

  I smiled. As I’d suspected, Liam craved activity. “You must enjoy dreaming, then.”

  He managed a half smile in return. It really was an adorable smile, dimpled and slightly crooked. “I do. Dreams allow me to go on adventures even while lying still.”

  We reached the dining room, where he helped me with my seat before taking his own across from me. He picked up his fork and was about to dive into his eggs and bacon when he paused and peeked up at me.

  “Did you sleep well?”

  I hadn’t. I’d spent half the night crying, but I couldn’t tell him that considering he’d been the source of my tears. So I settled for, “Well enough.”

  He nodded, and when he returned to his breakfast, the silence that settled over us was no longer tense but calm and full of promise. Liam cast me several glances throughout the meal, staring longer each time. Conscious of his attention, I tried to eat as daintily as possible, but it was difficult to maintain table manners while being analyzed.

  So it was no surprise when I tipped over the jar of marmalade. “I beg your pardon.”

  Liam picked it up. “There’s no harm done, unless the marmalade is offended.” He gave it a friendly look. “Will you forgive Lavena for knocking you over?” He raised it to his ear and “listened” with the utmost concentration, as if the marmalade was truly speaking. Liam’s eyes met mine as he lowered the jar. “Good news: it’s not upset. Looks like you’re forgiven.”

  For a moment I simply stared at him, Princess Lavena’s assessment of Liam swirling in my mind: immature. Certainly if she were here, she’d roll her eyes at his antics, but that was the last thing I felt inclined to do. Instead it was all I could do to keep my threatening smile at bay.

  Liam hesitated before tentatively pressing his finger against the corner of my mouth. “I see that smile you’re trying to hide. Won’t you give it to me?”

  I allowed it to fully emerge. “I didn’t want you to think I was laughing at you.”

  He wound his fingers together and rested his chin on top of them. “I’d thoroughly deserve it if you did.”

  “Perhaps, but I couldn’t offend the marmalade, especially when I was seeking its forgiveness.”

  His grin widened, causing my stomach to flip. Goodness, he really had an adorable smile. My cheeks warmed as my gaze caressed his face. He was adorable.

  “Why are you blushing?”

  I became preoccupied searching for my knife and for something else, my current fluster causing me to forget what it was…until Liam calmly handed me the marmalade. My blush deepened.

  “Thank you,” I stuttered.

  “You’re welcome, Lavena.”

  I flinched at the name. Would I ever get used to being addressed by it? Doubtful. As I spread marmalade on my toast, I silently chanted my own name to myself. Anwen, Anwen, Anwen…

  “Are you alright?”

  I jolted, shaking the cutlery. “Of course.”

  “You shouldn’t be.” Whatever good humor had settled over the prince slipped away. He leaned back in his seat with a heavy sigh. “My behavior this past week has been inexcusable. I sincerely apologize.”

  “I don’t hold it against you,” I said.

  His brow furrowed. “How can you not?”

  “Because I understand your reasons for it.”

  He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Nolan was right—you’re really quite different now that we’re married. I never would have believed it.”

  I stiffened. I was doing a terrible job playing the part I was expected to. I scrambled for an excuse to excuse my poor performance. “Before the wedding I fought against the arrangement because there was still a chance we could avoid it. Now that it’s done I want to make it work. Can we at least be friends?”

  He studied me for a long time, his gaze searching. “Friends…” He seemed to be testing the word to see whether or not he liked it. By his smile, it seemed that he did. “I’d like that. I can’t live like this anymore. Being enemies is torture.”

  “I don’t want to be enemies with you.”

  “Even though a few days before our wedding, you informed me in no uncertain terms that you did?”

  “I did not.” But even as I made my defense, I realized that Princess Lavena likely had, which meant I’d have to take responsibility for not only this, but for every biting comment she’d ever made to Liam. I gritted my teeth. This wasn’t fair. “Did I?” I asked tentatively, wanting to be sure before I unwillingly took the blame.

  “Yes. It was the day we went riding and were alternating between not speaking and going at one another’s throats. You were the first to decide a battle of words would be an excellent way to pass the time.”

  I groaned. Yes, that sounded exactly how Princess Lavena would have treated her intended. Curse you, Lavena.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  I stiffened. “Did I say that out loud?”

  He offered another crooked smile that somehow calmed my frazzled nerves. “You did. Scolding yourself?”

  Scolding her, the one who’d gotten me into this
mess. “I fully deserve it. I didn’t mean a single word of…whatever I said.” I leaned forward, paranoid. “What exactly did I say? I don’t remember.”

  “Nothing that bears repeating.”

  “Oh, dear.” I buried my face in my hands. That meant it had undoubtedly been extremely rude. My frustration over my inability to explain away all of Liam’s past hurts pressed against my heart. I took a deep breath and looked directly into his deep blue eyes. “I’m sincerely sorry for all the cruel things I’ve ever said and for any pain that those words may have caused you. I promise never to speak to you in such a way again. Please forgive me.”

  His eyes widened and his mouth fell agape before his entire manner softened. “Oh Lavena, it’s quite alright. Thank you for your apology. I’m sorry, too, for how I’ve spoken to you in return.”

  Thank goodness I didn’t have any negative memories of Liam’s rudeness towards Princess Lavena. I smiled my forgiveness. He returned it, and with it I felt healing begin to settle over us, melting away the hurt from the contention that had festered between us since we’d taken our vows, giving us a fresh start.

  I returned to my plate with a much lighter heart, which allowed me to finally enjoy my meal. The food was delicious, far more satisfying than the porridge I’d spent every morning of my life up until this marriage eating. I ate each item eagerly and likely a bit too messily, but paused with my fork halfway to my mouth when I noticed Liam watching me.

  “What is it?” I squeaked.

  His lips twitched. “Your appetite is much heartier than it used to be. You usually pick at your food, claiming it isn’t to your liking.”

  I froze, too late remembering the princess’s finicky tastes. “It’s impossible not enjoy it; I’ve never eaten such fine food.”

  The ring burned in protest at this second mistake. Liam’s eyes narrowed, causing my heart to beat wildly. Did he suspect? “Haven’t you? Strange…I haven’t found the food on our honeymoon to be anything special.” He continued studying me thoughtfully before he shrugged. “Perhaps the method of preparation is superior in Draceria; I must be sure and give my compliments to the royal chef.”