Chapter 285: Ten Minutes of Silence
[Lavinia’s POV — The Next Day, Road to the Capital]
The morning sun rose over Irethene like it had forgotten the chaos of yesterday. The sky was too blue, too peaceful—mockingly so. Every gust of wind carried the scent of pine and iron, the lingering perfume of the hunt.
Our royal convoy stretched down the road like a golden serpent—banners of Elorian fluttering, the sound of hooves steady and rhythmic. Soldiers marched in perfect discipline, their armor glinting under the dawn. But all I could hear was the echo of his voice.
"You can cut my legs if you want, Lavi..."
I sat by the carriage window, chin resting lightly on my hand, eyes fixed on the figure riding alongside.
Osric.
His horse strode in rhythm with the wheels, close enough that I could see the tired lines beneath his eyes. For a brief moment, our gazes met through the glass. He tried to smile—faint, tentative, as if afraid I might shatter him with a look.
I didn’t return it.I didn’t even blink.
He’d been trying to speak to me since morning, to explain, to mend what he’d broken.But this time... there was nothing left to say.
The silence sat between us like a sealed door, and I had no intention of opening it.
Sir Haldor appeared on horseback, leaning toward the carriage window with that steady composure only he possessed. "Your Highness," he asked quietly, "are you well?"
I turned to him, fingers absently brushing Marshi’s fur. "Yes, I’m fine, Sir Haldor. Thank you for asking."
He frowned slightly, brow furrowing. "You seem... a little upset, if I may say so."
"I’m fine," I replied curtly, my voice sharper than I intended. Then, softer, with a hollow laugh, "I’ve learned that tears are useless unless you plan to drown someone with them."
Sir Haldor straightened in his saddle, his face as expressionless as marble. "I did not know, Your Highness, that one could drown people with tears. A powerful weapon indeed."
. . .
. . .
There was a heavy silence.
I blinked slowly, fixing him with the flattest stare I could muster. "Sir Haldor..."
"Yes, Your Highness?"
"Are you, by any chance, attempting to lighten my mood with... humor?"
His lips twitched—barely. "It seems I have failed miserably, then."
"Yes," I said, deadpan. "A very accurate assessment. Congratulations on your self-awareness."
He inclined his head solemnly. "My gratitude, Your Highness. I shall add that to my list of military achievements."
For a moment, the corners of my mouth betrayed me—a faint, reluctant smile tugged at them before I could stop it. Marshi noticed, tail thumping softly against my lap.
Sir Haldor caught the smile and said nothing more, turning his gaze forward again, as if he’d achieved his quiet mission.
Outside, the wind shifted, carrying the scent of wildflowers and iron, of war and spring tangled together. The horizon shimmered with the pale gold outline of the Elorian capital—our home, our life.
And beside the carriage, Osric still rode in silence, eyes lowered.
He didn’t speak again.Neither did I.
But sometimes, silence can wound far deeper than words ever could.
***
[Elorian Empire—Imperial Palace—Later]
The convoy rolled to a stop before the towering gates of the Imperial Palace—white marble gleaming beneath the sun, banners rippling in gold and crimson. The capital smelled of roses and cold-polished stone, but even its grandeur couldn’t wash away the ache sitting heavy in my chest.
I stepped out of the carriage, brushing my skirts free of dust. Sera rushed to my side immediately, ever diligent.
"I should get some rest," I said, stretching my neck slightly. "Sitting in a carriage for hours feels like punishment for a crime I didn’t commit."
Sera nodded quickly. "Of course, Your Highness. I’ll prepare your bath first."
Nanny, standing nearby, smiled warmly. "Then I shall visit you later, dear. I need to check if the maids have ruined the linen again."
I nodded, waving faintly as she left.
Rey sauntered toward me, hands behind his head, that infuriating grin playing on his lips. "So..." he began, tone teasing, "you and your Osric had a fight?"
I turned to him slowly, giving him a stare that could’ve frozen fire. My silence was the only answer he got and then he stared at Sir Haldor.
Sir Haldor, ever composed, stepped in smoothly. "If I may, Your Highness," he said dryly, "I do not find the Archmage’s face particularly agreeable either. You can rest assured, he is not my friend I could share something with."
. . .
Rey blinked, mouth dropping open. "Wow," he said, clutching his chest dramatically. "Straight to the throat, huh? Can I cry in a corner now, or should I wait until after dinner?"
Sera stifled a laugh, her hand covering her mouth. "Sir Haldor, that was—"
"Lavi..."
The sound of that voice froze me mid-step.
Osric.
He stood a few paces away—still in travel leathers, cloak unfastened, hair tousled from the road. The sunlight hit him just enough to make him look both regal and wrecked.
"Can we talk?" he asked quietly. "Please, just—"
Before he could finish, I stepped past Sera, my voice cutting clean and cold through the courtyard. "Sera, I’ll be resting. No one is allowed inside my chambers. Not even the wind."
Sera blinked in confusion, glancing between us. "Ah—yes, Your Highness."
But Osric moved before I could reach the steps, stepping directly in front of me.
"Lavi... it’s been a day," he said softly, desperation flickering in his voice. "We should really talk."
I looked at him—not the way I used to. There was no warmth left, no trace of the girl who used to convince him when he was upset. Only the Crown Princess now, wrapped in ice.
"Please..." he added, almost whispering.
For a moment, I said nothing. The palace guards stood motionless; even the air seemed to hold its breath.
Then I tilted my head slightly and replied, my voice like silk wrapped around a blade:
"Careful, Osric. With my temper, I can suffocate you to death."
And without another glance, I brushed past him, the hem of my gown whispering against the marble steps—leaving him standing there, hands clenched, silence swallowing his apology whole.
I paused at the grand doors, not turning back. "You have ten minutes," I said evenly. "After that, you’re out of my chambers."
***
[Lavinia’s Chambers—Later]
The scent of white jasmine lingered faintly in the air, clashing with the heaviness sitting in my chest. I sat on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, teacup poised perfectly in my hand—the image of composure I didn’t feel.
Across from me, Osric stood awkwardly, eyes dim, armor still dusted from the road.
"You’ve already wasted five minutes," I said, not looking up from my cup. "If you don’t have anything worth saying, just leave."
He exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Lavi, I know you’re upset—"
"I’m not upset," I cut him off sharply.
My voice was cold and steady—but the porcelain cup trembled ever so slightly between my fingers. "Upset is when your favorite dress tears or your tea goes cold. I..." I looked up at him then, eyes burning with a restrained storm. "I feel like burning the entire Talvan estate to the ground. But I suppose..." I leaned back, lips curving into a ghost of a smile. "...someone out there would still kneel on fire for someone else."
He flinched, guilt flashing across his features. "Lavi, I only did what I thought was right. You were losing control—I couldn’t just let you—"
"’Losing control?’" I interrupted, rising slowly to my feet. The air in the chamber grew colder. "You thought I’d turn into a mindless murderer?"
"I was trying to protect you!" he shouted suddenly, voice breaking. "If you’d killed her—Lavi, they would’ve called you a tyrant who kills out of jealousy!"
My heart stopped for a second.
"...Jealousy?" I repeated quietly. "Did you just say Jealousy?"
He realized his mistake too late. "I didn’t mean it that way—"
"Oh, but you did," I said softly, stepping closer until the shadows between us were as thin as breath. "You think I wanted to kill that wretched girl because I was jealous?"
"Lavi—"
"You think my rage," I hissed, "was born out of envy and not betrayal? You think I would stain my blade over that girl?"
He swallowed, but words failed him. The silence that followed was louder than any scream.
"I..." He began, but he had no words left now.
At last, I turned away, placing my cup gently back on the table. "I suppose you have nothing else to say," I murmured. "Please leave. I need to rest."
He stood still for a moment—his expression unreadable, torn between pride and regret. Then he bowed low, voice low and restrained. "I shall resume my duties starting today, Your Highness."
I didn’t look at him. "You can do whatever you wish," I said, my tone turning distant, hollow. "Just... leave me alone."
He hesitated—as if hoping I might call him back. But I didn’t.
When the door shut behind him, the silence that followed wasn’t peaceful. It was suffocating.
My hand dropped to my lap, trembling slightly. I closed my eyes—but all I saw was his face when he said jealousy.
The teacup cracked faintly in my grip.