the forest. He glanced about to see if anyone was watching before punching Lucian square on the eye.
“Ow!” Lucian cried, “What…”
“Don’t you every make my sister cry again,” Adrian spat, “or so help me I’ll do something worse to you. Do you have any idea how hard this summer was? You have both your parents and we only have the one. I don’t care how sick your dad is or if he’s dying or anything else. You have no right to take it out on Moira. She cries all the time because she misses Dad. She doesn’t like to ride horses anymore because she used to do it with Dad and it’s just not the same anymore. She may be annoying and snobby and Mom’s precious, perfect princess, but she’s my sister. I’m not going to let anyone hurt her, especially not my best friend.”
Adrian looked close to tears and Lucian was already crying enough for both of them. “I’m s-sorry. I sh-shouldn’t have s-said it. I, I wasn’t thinking.”
“Obviously,” Adrian retorted before storming away, leaving Lucian alone.
More tears fell as Lucian miserably walked back towards the picnic. Phillipa found him before he’d gotten very far. “Lucian,” she called.
“Are you going to yell at me too?” he interrupted.
“While the thought had crossed my mind, no. I came to see what was going on and…Lucian, what happened to your eye?”
He looked away. “I walked into a branch.”
“Adrian did that, didn’t he?” she asked. He hesitated a moment too long. She sighed, “I’ll have to call the witches.”
“No! You can’t. I deserved it. If he’d said to Allegra what I said to Moira, I would have done the same thing.”
“That’s no excuse, Lucian,” she said. “A gentleman does not beat people.”
“He didn’t beat me and a gentleman always protects the ladies in his life. I’ll be fine. It’s just a little sore, and everybody hates me,” he sobbed.
Phillipa looked at Lucian quizzically. “Your punishment must have affected your emotions.”
“No,” he sniffed, “it put me in these terrible shoes.”
One eyebrow raised, Phillipa looked down at Lucian’s feet. “Oh, that’s an interesting punishment. Lucretia?”
“Maeve.”
“Oh. Well, you’d best get something to eat. Go on now.”
Lucian walked back to where his friends were sitting. He sat down next to Allegra who scooted away from him as though he were diseased. Tears coursed down his face and he didn’t even attempt to speak to anyone. He didn’t think it would have mattered though; they all seemed to be pretending he wasn’t there, except Nathan who smirked, “Nice shoes.”
Leticia gently smacked Nathan’s arm. “Leave him alone,” she warned.
Nathan looked daggers at her, but she simply glared back. Finally, glowering, Nathan looked away and continued to eat his lunch.
As the princesses were leaving, Lucian tried to talk to Moira. “Can I speak with you? Just for a minute?”
“You’ve said quite enough for one day,” she snapped and turned away from him.
He grabbed her arm. “Please, Moira, I just wanted to say that I’m truly sorry for what I said. There’s no excuse for it, it was cruel and ungentlemanly. I’m sorry.”
Moira looked into his eyes. He could see pain and anger swirling in the brilliant blue depths. “Sorry doesn’t take the words back, Lucian.” She yanked her arm away and got into the carriage.
Leticia hung back a moment. “I shouldn’t talk to you; girl rules being what they are. But you need to give her time and space. Deep wounds take a long time to heal; especially when they reopen old wounds.” She then entered the carriage, leaving Lucian standing by himself.
Year 3 Chapter 3
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Lucian had a rough time in his classes following Saturday’s incident. He would burst into tears at random moments and he constantly felt embarrassed; especially as boys snickered at the slippers on his feet. He couldn’t even take them off at night to sleep. The teasing was made worse by a sudden growth spurt that left his pants two inches too short, even after Gelasia hemmed them, and the slippers painfully tight and awkwardly visible. Classes were torture; especially fencing where he had to be on his feet the whole time and his right arm was so weak he didn’t feel he was progressing at all. “I’ll never be able to get this,” he sobbed one afternoon.
Raphael rolled his eyes while Lucian had covered his face with his hands. He was losing patience. “Lucian, you’ll get it. It takes time and hard work to learn fencing with your weak arm. Even I didn’t get it overnight.” He waited for Lucian to at least smile and finally sighed, “The only way you’ll progress is if you keep working. Let’s give it another go, eh?”
When that class was over, he’d gone to dragon fighting where Draconus had tormented him about his girlish slippers and tears. “You should add yourself to the witches’ garden as a waterfall. No doubt their herbs would grow faster under your care.”
Later that evening, Lucian checked his mail and had a letter from his mother. He opened it quickly and read:
My Dear Lucian,
I heard from Allegra that somehow your letter was missed. I do apologize. However, I am also very disappointed in your behavior towards Moira. We’ve raised you better than that. I expect my son to be a gentleman under all circumstances.
Lucian, I suppose I owe both you and Allegra more details. Your father has been ill for quite some time. We naturally assumed that it was simply getting older and thought nothing of it until the end of last school year. As he weakened, I forced him to see a physician. The doctor’s prognosis was bleak. He told us that with rest, your father might recover some of his former strength. But the illness is gradually eating away at him. Your father has not kept to the rules given by the physician. He insisted on continuing in his regular routine, though it weakened him. Now he is bedridden and unable to leave the room. I feel that some of this is unrelated to the illness. We both know how he desperately desires your success and sees himself as less than he is. His spirit is weakened more than his body. (Although I would ask that you not tell Allegra that.)
It is for this reason that I have contacted Queen Lavinia about winter break. I don’t want you and Allegra to see your father like this. Perhaps by getting adequate rest over the break, his strength will be renewed and he will once again be his old self. I have not yet received an answer from Lavinia, but as soon as I do, I will inform you and Allegra of your winter plans.
My dear son, know that I love you. I am sorry that your letter was missed. I hope that you will make amends with Moira. She is a wonderful girl and deserving of a prince like you. Stay true to who you are. Your father would want you to be at your best, as you always have been. Keep that sunshine in your smile. The day may come when you will need it.
All My Love,
Mother
Though he was sure he had already cried every tear he had, fresh tears streamed down his face. His father was dying and he didn’t have a friend in the world to lean on. Allegra hadn’t written to him since that Saturday and the letter he’d sent to Moira had been returned. Adrian wasn’t speaking to him and others avoided him as well. The fairies wouldn’t help him and Lucian was beginning to blame the illness on them. Why hadn’t they written the story? Couldn’t they see the hurt that had been caused?
While Lucian was crying, Adrian had come up the stairs. At first he’d wanted to continue on to his own room, but his heart softened as he saw Lucian standing there. “What’s the matter?”
Lucian looked at Adrian sullenly. A strange resentment filled him and he couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice, “Suddenly speaking to me again?”
“Oh come off it, Lucian,” Adrian snapped. “We’ve both behaved as children. Now, are you going to tell me what’s wrong or should I leave you to drown in your tears?”
Too choked up to continue speaking, Lucian handed Adrian the letter.
Adrian read silently. “I had hoped that Allegra was exaggerating.
Lucian, I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” he sniffed.
“Well, let’s head down to supper. I know you’re probably not hungry,” Adrian continued when he looked ready to argue, “but some food will do you good. I’ll write to my mother and see what’s going on this winter, okay?”
Lucian nodded but didn’t speak. It felt good to rejoin his friends at their regular table. He was still sniffling and tears leaked down his cheeks. Adrian explained what was wrong and the boys expressed condolences. “It might not be so bad, Lucian,” Jacobi said. “Maybe he just needs a rest during winter and when you go back in summer, he’ll be good as new.”
The others tried to sound as hopeful, but Lucian knew they were all thinking the same thing. From what his mother said, it sounded pretty hopeless. It almost seemed as though he was just giving up. Lucian suddenly felt angry. He couldn’t just abandon them like this. Didn’t he know that they needed him? What would Mom do without him? Lucian played with his food, but didn’t eat much. He also avoided talking to Adrian. He was surprised by this change in himself. Adrian was his best friend, and yet Lucian felt a type of resentment towards him, like he reminded him of a painful memory.
When he returned to his room, Lucian attempted to work on his homework, but it didn’t seem to matter anymore. Finally, exhausted and upset, he blew out the candles before crying himself to sleep.
The next week passed tolerably enough, despite