Kings and Thieves

Chapter 8

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Chapter 8

They arrived in Kibet not long afterwards, which was relieving because Lyla was eager to get off the ship for a while after that frightening and rather embarrassing reptile debacle. (For a moment there, when she'd jumped into that disgusting aquarium, she'd thought that she was truly going to die. Which would have been rather inconvenient, since she'd actually hoped to make it to her twentieth year.)

Also, she had never been anywhere before. As the golden island grew nearer on the horizon and Ari began shouting docking orders at his crew, an unfamiliar emotion— something like excitement, perhaps, quickened Lyla's heartbeat. She had a chance here— to explore new places, travel, maybe even save the prince of her own kingdom. Perhaps then her mother wouldn't look at her as if she was a charred, rather disappointing piece of meat that had been left too long over the cooking fire.

Lyla grimaced at her own rather unpleasant imagery and pushed the Grand Duchess far out of her thoughts. She went to find Ari and Aveline, who were above deck, arguing, as usual.

"Oh, come off it. You know this is all your rubbish that's scattered about my ship. I mean, what," Ari was saying, lifting up a tattered stuffed bear, "is this? Why do we need this?"

"It's a relic," Aveline snapped, snatching at the toy. Her eyes lightened as they landed on Lyla. "Oh, Lyla, you're here! Good. It's almost time to leave."

"Be careful," Ari warned, "Aveline is being even bossier than usual."

Aveline whirled around. "I beg your pardon, Ari. Did you want another trout on your head?"

That shut him up, finally; Ari threw his hands up in the air and stalked away.

"What did you mean by that? The trout, I mean." Lyla wondered, mystified.

"Nothing." Aveline walked towards the other girl, hoisting herself up on the wooden table between them. She swung her legs over the side like a small child. "So, Lyla. What's the situation with your mother?" Aveline reached out with one hand towards the bowl of fruit on the table and tugged it towards her, scrutinizing its contents.

"The Grand Duchess," Lyla corrected instinctively.

"Yeah." Aveline studied her for a moment. "Is she good to you?"

Lyla sucked in a breath— it was a charged question, to be sure, one she wasn't confident she knew how to answer.

"Of course." Lyla lifted a shoulder and then dropped it. "But my mother's love is..." she pursed her lips as she searched for the right word. "Conditional."

"On?" Aveline plucked a bunch of grapes from the bowl and popped a plump, unblemished one into her mouth. She tossed Lyla another, and Lyla caught it.

"Whether or not I do what she wishes, I suppose." She ran a thumb over the small violet sphere in her hand before throwing it into her mouth. Sweetness burst from the fruit as she chewed.

"Do you?" Aveline asked, and it didn't occur to Lyla to lie. Maybe it was because Aveline's curiosity never seemed to be poised to harm, or maybe sometimes it was easier to be an open book if people paid attention. Easier to talk, if people cared to listen.

"I tend to, usually. For most of my life I was obedient. I grew tired of it eventually, of trying so hard to please the people around me when it never seemed to work."

Aveline frowned. "I suppose I always thought love- parenting, in particular- was about accepting the entirety of a person. People aren't breakfast buffets; you cannot pick and choose what you like and leave behind what you do not."