Zavier

Zavier didn't think that his heart would ever stop pounding. Even as he cradled Lydia in his arms and felt that she was there, she was alive, she was safe, it still pounded. The fear that he'd felt on waking up on the ground, head pulsing with pain, side throbbing, and Lydia gone still filled him.

It hadn't stopped as he helped bandage Joric's wound, or called for someone to run to the palace to get help, or talked with Nolan about what they should do, or finally made it to the dock and found Lydia there barely upright talking to a man. A man she'd called Papa.

Zavier tightened his hold on Lydia as he stared at the man. He knew this man was from the West Isle with his tan skin, hazel eyes, and auburn hair. He looked about mid-forty, though a bit gaunt. But that meant nothing. What did mean something was the fact that he looked like the King. Despite feeling the urge to carry Lydia off, he needed his question answered.

"Who are you?" he demanded. "You are not her father, I met the King."

The man looked to Lydia with a softened expression but with a touch of something else Zavier didn't understand.

"I'm her uncle, Kristoff," he said.

Nolan took a step forward, his hand on the hilt of his sword, body tense.

"You expect us to take your word for it?" he asked.

Zavier did, the similarities between him and the King were too extreme for him not to believe. Besides, in her exhaustion, Lydia had thought Kristoff was her father. But Kristoff didn't flinch under Nolan's harsh tone. Instead, he pushed up the sleeve of his shirt, revealing a silver woven band tattoo. It was the same one that marked Lydia's skin, announcing her to be the fourth heir to the throne. Kristoff's marked him as a second heir.

Lydia shivered in Zavier's arms and all thoughts for this suddenly appearing uncle vanished from his mind.

"We need to get her back to the palace," Zavier said.

Nolan nodded. "He will come with us. You take Lydia in the carriage."

Zavier understood. It didn't matter who this man was, Nolan was not risking him being in an enclosed place with Lydia. Her safety was the priority. As Zavier turned away, four guards - that were not his family's - stepped forward. One of them spoke.

"We will come with you, it is our job to protect the Prince," he said.

Zavier glanced back at Kristoff to see him hesitate at the guard's words but Nolan answered.

"Of course. Follow me."

Zavier looked to the carriage driver. "Go as fast as you can."

As he bent forward to climb into the carriage, the cloak around Lydia slipped off, showing her bare arm and her underclothes plastered to her skin. The guard shut the door and the carriage lurched forward.

Zavier sank into the seat and hurriedly grabbed the cloak's edge and wrapped it about her, covering her up. The small exposed moment made Lydia shiver. Zavier pulled her closer to him, trying to share his body's warmth with her. She breathed out and he felt as it fanned across his neck.

In his arms, she felt so small, almost fragile. It felt strange since he knew the strength she'd shown. There hadn't been a ship in sight at the harbor, so how far had she swam? The last he'd seen of her she'd been petrified. How much courage it must have taken to break free of her fear and save herself?

He felt as his heart pounded for a different reason, with admiration for her determination.

Lydia murmured something over and over again. Zavier tilted his head, wanting to know what it was. The soft words sounded like 'don't leave me' repeated again and again. Zavier tightened his hold, feeling how cold Lydia was.

"I will not leave you," he whispered back.

The carriage paused before the palace gates then rushed through them, the wheels kicking up pebbles in its wake. As it rounded to the front of the palace, a guard leapt from the back and opened the door. Zavier tore out and raced for the palace steps, barely waiting for the doors to be opened for him. Inside the foyer, guards and servants waited with worry.

"Someone start the Princess a warm bath!" Zavier commanded. "Send for the healer. Get the Princess's bed warmed. And someone tell my parents the Princess is safe."

People scattered, darting to put his orders into motion. Zavier ran to the stairs and bounded up them, ignoring how his side hurt with the rough treatment. He followed two maids to Lydia's washroom and paced as they filled the tub. Steam billowed in the room.

"We're ready, Your Highness," one of the maids said, helping take the cloak off Lydia.

Zavier brought Lydia to the tub and gently lowered her down. The moment her feet hit the water, she woke and gasped, clutching Zavier's neck. She shivered and buried her face in his shoulder as inch by inch he helped her into the water, letting her adjust to the heat. Even with how mild the water was, Lydia had been freezing and he knew the temperature must hurt.

By the time Lydia was fully submerged, Zavier shook from the strain of holding her over the water and not dropping her in. When he let go and drew his arms out, water from his soaking sleeves dripped onto the floor.

"We can handle it from here, Your Highness," the maid said.

Zavier looked at Lydia huddled in the water and nodded. As he stepped out into the sitting room, he found the palace healer waiting there.

"I do not know how long she was in the water," Zavier said. "I believe she is exhausted from the swim but you need to check and make sure there is nothing else wrong with her."

The healer bowed his head. "Of course, Your Highness."

He entered the washroom, closing the door behind him. Zavier felt like he could collapse to the settee but also couldn't bear to remain motionless, so he paced. She was in the palace. She was safe. She was safe.

But no matter how many times Zavier repeated the statement, all he could think about was waking up and seeing her gone. It had felt like someone had stabbed him. Every horrifying outcome had played through his head.

The door to the sitting room opened and Nolan walked through. He saw Zavier pacing and seemed to understand without having to hear a word.

"Here," he said, holding out a dry shirt.

Only then did Zavier realize most of his shirt was soaked through and he was leaving a trail of droplets all over the floor. He tugged off his shirt, laying it over a chair, and pulled on the new one. As he tucked it in, he looked to the door.

"How is she doing?" Nolan asked.

"I am not sure yet. The healer is in there."

Zavier ran his hand through his hair, his entire body tense with inaction.

"How are you doing?" Nolan asked.

Zavier waved the question away, his worry over Lydia overshadowed his concern for his own well-being.

Nolan nodded. "I know how hard it is to see someone you care about hurt."

Zavier almost refuted the claim but realized he couldn't. He cared for Lydia. She was the girl who had laughed during his welcoming ball making him feel a little more at ease. She was the girl who helped care for him after his injury. She was the girl who now walked with him to the park and talked to him about nothing in particular. He did care about her. 

Zavier didn't want to dive deeper into something that felt new and old and familiar and strange so he changed the subject.

"Where is Prince Kristoff?" he asked.

"Talking with father and mother now."

"Did he have anything to say as you returned to the palace?"

Nolan ran a hand over his jaw, his brow pinched together. "Yes, his story was...interesting."

"How so?"

"He said he heard that Princess Lydia and you had survived. So naturally, he sailed straight for Loria, knowing that you would offer the Princess a place to stay."

That made sense. It also explained how they were attacked. The assassins in the palace would have known Zavier lived as well as Lydia. Loria was the logical destination. He inwardly sighed. Their nightly walks to the park had become a habit, one that clearly drew attention. Zavier could kick himself for his thoughtlessness. They should have gone at different times, brought more men, never left at all. Maybe then Lydia wouldn't have been harmed.

"Did he say anything else?" Zavier asked, rubbing his forehead, plagued by all things he should have done.

"No..."

Zavier met his brother's gaze, forgetting his own distress in the face of his brother's uncertainty.

"What is it?"

"Something is not right."

"You do not trust him?"

"I do not trust anyone until they have proven themselves to be trustworthy. With Kristoff, his manner is guarded and until he has proven to be trustworthy he will not see the Princess."

Zavier wholeheartedly agreed with this play. Lydia's safety meant everything.

The washroom door opened and Zavier whirled around as Lydia was led out, leaning heavily on her maid. Exhaustion and weakness seemed to weigh down every step. Zavier crossed the room and scooped her into his arms. With a sigh, she rested against him, closing her eyes. Her whole body relaxed in his hold.

"Is it safe for her to sleep?" Zavier asked the healer.

The man nodded. "It is the best thing for her. The bath took away her chill and I got her to drink some water for her dehydration. Besides a couple of bruises, fatigue is her main source of concern."

"Thank you."

Zavier walked into Lydia's bed-chamber, allowing a maid to scamper around him to turn down the covers. He laid Lydia down and tucked the blankets around her. Before he could leave, she reached out and caught the edge of his sleeve. He peered down at her and she stared up at him with a wordless plea. Zavier retrieved a chair from in front of a desk and set it beside Lydia's bed. She swallowed and curled her fingers around her pillow.

"Do you require anything else?" the maid asked.

"No. Please tell Nolan I will be remaining here."

The maid curtsied and left, shutting them into darkness. Slowly, Zavier's eyes adjusted. He could make out Lydia's form.

"Don't leave," she whispered.

"I promise, I am not going anywhere."

*****

Zavier woke with a jerk, startled into wakefulness but not sure why and not sure where he was. He blinked, trying to understand his surroundings. The chair beneath him and the pain in his neck from sleeping awkwardly brought the events of the night back to him. As he went to readjust and find sleep again, Lydia whimpered.

Zavier patted the nightstand until he found matches and a candle. He quickly lit it. The glow filled the room and fell across Lydia's face. Tears streaked her cheeks and her forehead was scrunched in pain.

"Don't," she quietly pleaded, twisting her head one way and the other.

"Princess," Zavier said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Lydia didn't respond. Tentatively, Zavier touched her shoulder.

"Princess, wake up."

Lydia continued to get more agitated, her body tensing as she remained locked in her nightmare.

"Don't," she pleaded.

Nervous, but knowing she needed to wake up to escape whatever tormented her, Zavier shook her shoulder.

"Don't touch ME!" Lydia screamed.

She swung her arm hitting Zavier in the face as she sat bolt upright. Startled, Zavier stumbled back, knocking over his chair. It hit the ground with a solid crash. From beyond the bed chamber doors, another crash resounded then the doors burst open and two guards charged in their swords drawn.

In the dim light, they looked like nothing more than menacing figures with sharp blades. Lydia screamed.

"Stop!" Zavier yelled. "Put your swords away! Put them away!"

Confused, the guards took a second to follow orders, exchanging a baffled look between them.

"Now!" Zavier roared.

The guards hastily did as they were commanded. Lydia shook on her bed, breathing frantically.

"We are fine, it was a nightmare," Zavier said. "Please leave."

At the terrified girl and the unsettled Prince, the guards seemed all too eager to get away. They bowed hastily and retreated, shutting the door. Zavier took a breath, the incident rattling him.

When he faced Lydia, she sat curled up, hugging her knees, crying. Zavier stood motionless. He wanted to comfort her but was afraid of touching her again. Right then he couldn't help but think of Wilder, knowing he would understand what she needed. Zavier felt utterly inadequate to help Lydia.

She cried, her whole body trembling with the force of it and Zavier's heart cracked at the sight. What horrors lived in her mind and tortured her at night? She'd seen her family murdered. She'd been captured. It didn't matter that the healer said she wore only bruises, some scars couldn't be seen.

Cautiously, Zavier inched forward. He didn't want her to feel alone. That was the pain of nightmares, only the dreamer experienced it. But he wasn't sure what to do. He'd only ever seen Alwyn cry once. And even then it was because she was so mad and she wanted to punch something. Only growing up with brothers, tears were a rare thing and he wasn't sure what to do with them.

But she looked so small and broken. Swallowing down his hesitation, he gently touched her shoulder. Instead of smacking him away, Lydia grabbed his hand and hugged it to her like she needed something to anchor her to reality.

Zavier let out a breath, relieved, and knelt beside the bed. Her hair, which had been wrapped in a thick cloth to dry it and keep from her getting a cold, had come loose and hung wildly about her head. After a moment of uncertainty, Zavier brushed a strand away from her forehead.

Lydia sucked in a breath, her shaking easing. Zavier stroked her hair, feeling nervous he was doing it all wrong but saw how it soothed Lydia.

"You are safe," he murmured. "They can not hurt you. You are safe, Princess."

Zavier wished the words would comfort but even as he said them he couldn't help feel that they were hollow. He'd thought she was safe here in Loria but she'd been kidnapped. They might not be able to hurt her physically anymore but they had already hurt her, leaving her with fear.

For being a Prince, he felt completely useless.

"The man," Lydia whispered. "He said...no food...a trade..."

A shudder racked her body. It took a minute for Zavier to put together her broken words with her scream of 'don't touch me' and finally understood.

An animalistic rage like he'd never felt before burned through him. He wanted to find the man and not kill him, but cut off his hands, knowing it would mean he could never touch anyone ever again. He wanted to do so many things, things that would make that man feel the same pain and horror Lydia felt now.

But Lydia let out a hiccup, tearing Zavier away from his vengeful thoughts. She laid her cheek on her knees and used one hand to swipe at her face. Zavier could tell she didn't want to let go of his hand but couldn't reach her other cheek. Slowly, he brushed the tears away for her.

The fragile look in her eye made Zavier want to wrap her in his arms and hold her. But somehow it felt like crossing a line. Carrying her because she was too weak to walk felt like a different thing.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Of course, Princess." He paused. "Do you think you can sleep again?"

Lydia nodded then shook her head. Still, she uncurled herself and laid down, letting go of Zavier's hand. He reached up and tucked the blankets back around her.

"Will you talk to me?" she asked.

Zavier righted his chair and sat down.

"What do you want me to say?" he asked.

"What was it like growing up with only brothers?"

This brought a small smile to his face. In a low voice, he talked. He told her about how so many simple things turned into competitions. He talked about how he'd played pranks on his brothers in retaliation for being picked on as the youngest. He told her how each of them had shaped who he was. Dimitrius's courage, Nolan's authority, Killian's easy-going manner, Quinn's loyalty.

As her eyes began to dip with sleepiness, she broke into his monologue.

"Zavier," she said.

"Yes?"

"Can I...can you hold my hand?"

She asked with such hesitation after she'd held it for a long while only an hour before that Zavier had to fight an amused smile. 

"Of course."

Butting his chair right up against her bed, he held out his hand. Lydia wound her fingers around his and closed her eyes, sighing quietly.

"And what are your parents like?" she murmured.

Zavier talked about the compassion his parents had for their people. Their story of meeting and falling in love.

Eventually, Lydia drifted off. Zavier sat there watching her peaceful face, holding her hand, and feeling a strange twinge in his chest.

**********************************************************************

"You were my new dream."

Did that...what just...did you see...how could...BURSTING BARNACLES! WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!?!? Okay, you have to spill the beans, the tea, the ice cream! I have to know what you're thinking about all of this! 🤴🏾⚔️🛡

I mean he just...and they....the night...hands...looks...tears...oh stars! This is really something! Is there something there that wasn't there before? (If you don't finish the quote I'm going to be disappointed)

*dips toe in the water, raises finger to check the wind* Is there...is there a new ship in the sea?

🤷‍♀️ It looks that way...

🙄 Nah, you cray...

🤨 Joy, I don't trust you anymore so I'm withholding my opinion.

Can we at least talk about the uncle? What are we thinking about him? His appearance is rather sudden...

Great whales! What a chapter! Well let's think of something simple, question for you reader: What are your top ships from books?

I'm terrible at choosing ships, I always want the unexpected ones. In Red Queen I wanted Mare to get with Maven in the first one because I was so tired of the girl getting with the hot older brother trope. I wanted something new.

Do you ever want something new or do you like stories always following the same path?

Vote, comment, follow because well, you love me...most of the time...sometimes...that one Friday where I was nice to you.