Spellbound

Chapter 18

    “Ah, I thought I’d find you here.”

    Tyrion winced, his gaze snapping to the source of the voice. Billan approached him, a wide smile set on his face. Tyrion never could know how Billan managed to find him in his hiding spots every time. Tonight, Tyrion had taken refuge up in a balcony, watching the dancefloor carefully for Pria. Fortunately for him, Pria had been caught up in a few dances by important nobles from other kingdoms. It would have been insulting to refuse, even if she had her heart set on someone specific. Tyrion shuddered. If only he wasn’t that specific someone.

    Billan reached him and clapped him on the shoulder, taking a look at the ballroom beneath them. “Pria is busy, I see. Poor girl. She looks absolutely miserable.”

    Tyrion’s irritation ticked. He didn’t need Billan to remind him of Pria’s unfortunate situation. Courting her out of pity was the last thing he wanted to do. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be asking ladies from Vitriva and Teillus to dance?”

    “I’ve done my duty.” Billan leaned back from the banister. “But there’s one more thing I need to do tonight.”

    “I’m assuming it has something to do with me.” Tyrion snorted and rested his elbows on the stone surface. “What crazy idea have you come up with now?”

    “I found a girl who agreed to be your fiancée. Pretend, of course.”

    “You what?” Tyrion snapped his head around in bewilderment. “What poor girl have you roped in on your schemes? Billan, you’ll ruin her. You can’t use your position to force these girls to do what you want!”

    “I didn’t force her,” Billan replied. His expression was passive, as unreadable as ever. Even after all these years, Tyrion could never get a good grasp of what his friend was thinking. “We made a deal. She’s fully aware of the risks, and she is willing to take them. Whether this plan will proceed depends solely on you.”

    “Hashvrik,” Tyrion swore, running his fingers through his hair. “What have you done, Billan?”

    “What I’ve done is find a way for you to be free.” Billan straightened his posture, but Tyrion could still see the weight pulling him down. “Give it a year, two, maybe three. What’s a few years of a secret relationship when it’ll all be over for the rest of your life? You can go find someone you truly want to spend your life with or even live the rest of your life a bachelor if you’d like. The point is that you won’t need to worry about someone like Pria anymore. So, will you be engaged to Pria by the end of the week, or are you going to take this opportunity I’ve provided for you?”

    “You can be so pretentious sometimes,” Tyrion growled. “Always off doing what you want without any regard for the people you’re supposedly trying to help. That’s a bad habit, Billan. No one likes a shrewd king.”

    “I do what I believe is right,” Billan said, completely unaffected by Tyrion’s words. “She’s waiting for you now. Shall we go discuss the details?”

    “You’re keeping her waiting?” Tyrion’s voice rose a by a pitch. “What would you have told her if you couldn’t have found me or if I refused?”

    “I did find you,” was his infuriating reply. “And I’m going to assume that means you agree. Come then, Tyrion. Your new lady awaits.”

    He swiveled around and walked without even waiting for Tyrion to reply. Tyrion let out a sigh, cursing Billan’s whims. He caught up with the prince easily enough, and they melded with the crowd, weaving through until they were safely outside, where the chatter and music was muffled.

    “So,” Tyrion said, now listening to the steady rain and the click-clacks of their footsteps. “Who’s the girl anyway?” She must be stupid, spineless, or naïve if she agreed to Billan’s plans.

    “Oh, she’s someone you know very well.” Amusement practically dripped from Billan’s voice.

    Tyrion didn’t like that. He frowned. “Someone I know?” No one that Tyrion knew would ever want to be his fiancée, except for Pria of course. No, Pria was the reason no one even dared to show him any interest in courtship in the first place—not even the ones Tyrion himself was interested in. No one in their right mind would displease a princess as spoiled and influential as Pria.

    He listed off the girls who would be the proper age for him to court. Veira Knight at twenty. She was timid enough that she might have agreed to Billan’s plans, though Tyrion knew she was too prudish to consider something as scandalous as a fake engagement. So, she was out of the list. Her sister Ellaine maybe. No. Ellaine was known for speaking her mind. She wouldn’t have agreed to something as egregious as this, even for a prince. Lurelle was too close to Pria, Annise was too uptight about her status, Toya would never do anything Annise wouldn’t. Liane wouldn’t last as long as Billan’s plan needed her to.

    There were others Tyrion could think of, but there was no one he could think of who would ever agree to such a thing. Maybe Hensa, a Teillus noble Tyrion had met on a few family occasions. He didn’t know her well enough to be sure if she was the kind of girl who would agree to something like this.

    “There isn’t a single person I know who would ever do what you ask,” Tyrion finally said as they passed a corner. They were headed towards Billan’s leisure room, judging from the direction. “Did you hire a servant? Billan, that’s crazy, even for you!”

    Billan merely chuckled. “She’s not a servant, Tyrion. Be patient. You’ll see her soon enough.”

    The curiosity was killing him. Tyrion was surprised to feel his heart pounded hard against his ribcage. Why? As if he was meeting someone he hadn’t seen for years. As if he was seeing her again.

    Don’t be ridiculous, he thought. Billan doesn’t even know about her.

    But…someone Tyrion knew. Someone who would agree to a plan that would pull him out of his misery. Could it be…?

    Billan paused in front of a door. He knocked twice before pushing it open and stepping inside. Tyrion took in a deep breath to stop the hammering in his chest. Then, he followed Billan inside.

    The room was lit the way it always was when Billan spent his night up painting on a canvas. White sheets covered easels, the grungy smell of old paint, the countless clay pots and vases that were stored atop a long table told of countless days spent inside. Billan’s escape, Billan’s method of dealing with his responsibilities. Tyrion glanced over the room but couldn’t see anyone.

    “Billan, are you playing me? There’s no one here.”

    “She’s here,” Billan said matter-of-factly. He called out, “Come out. There’s no need to hide.”

    A movement of cloth caught Tyrion’s eye. The hem of a dress first emerged from behind a curtain of white, followed by a figure clad in a dark cloak. Something was vaguely familiar about her, but Tyrion had yet to put a finger on it.

    The woman who stepped out was tall, slender. Her face was hidden by the cowl of her cloak and the shadows that streaked over her upper half. She stepped into the light, cautious, then flicked back her hood.

    A strangled cry caught in Tyrion’s throat. Billan looked amuse.

    “Good evening, Lord Lios,” Senya said. Her polite voice was strained with a heavy dose of distaste. She wasn’t wearing a ball gown, and it was only then that Tyrion recalled that he hadn’t seen her at all at the party.

    “Y-you?” Tyrion struggled to say. He couldn’t face her, so he looked to Billan instead. “Are you mad? Why would I ever court a witch? What dark bargain have you struck for her to agree?”

    There was a scoff followed by something slamming against Tyrion’s temple. He caught the material before it fell to the ground, grimacing in disgust. A piece of cloth hardened by years of paint, its soft surface now coarse and unpleasant to the touch. He tossed it on a table.

    “I agreed because Prince Billan was gentlemanly enough to request my help for your sorry arse. He was very persuasive, and a true diplomat. I can see why he’s the one who goes around solving your problems. He actually knows how to talk to people.”

    And there she went off with her insults. Tyrion’s temper rose. “Why you sniveling, whiny b***h. If you think you can use Billan to climb up the social ladder, you’re sorely mistaken. A mere witch can never become a noble!”

    “And why might that be?” Senya crossed her arms, her cheeks flushing in anger. “What have you got against witches, good Lord Tyrion Lios? You’re just like the rest them! Why did I even think of helping you find happiness? You’re better off being the miserable sod you are!”

    “I don’t need your help!”

    “Both of you, please!” Billan raised his voice to empower theirs. Tyrion paused. He couldn’t believe he had lost it in front of Billan. Senya went silent as well, and Tyrion was satisfied to see she looked embarrassed. Good. She deserved it. He would have reveled in it if he didn’t feel the same shame coursing through him.

    Billan said, “I understand this might not be the ideal situation for the both of you. But, if you can swallow your animosity just for a little while, this will all be worth it. Set your differences aside, just until this is all over, yes?”

    “Billan, you crazy bastard.” Tyrion pointed at Senya. “This is the last thing I need. Do you have any idea what’ll happen if I get engaged to her? Everyone will think she bewitched me. Pria will contest the engagement by accusing her of bewitching, and then, we’ll all be in deep s**t. You didn’t think this through at all, have you?”

    “There’s nothing but rumors that can be spread,” Billan replied, calm as ever. “I’ve already let Senya know that the next few years won’t be easy. You seem well aware. So, it’s time to decide. Will you or will you not get engaged? Give it a few years, and everyone will move on. You’ll both be old news, and no one will care about this, especially if you don’t end up married.”

    “It’s your choice, Mister Lios,” Senya said. “I don’t care whether you agree or not.”

    “And what will you be getting out of this?” Tyrion snapped.

    She went rigid. “That’s none of your business! Regardless of your choice, I’ll be fine with how things turn out. If you don’t agree, we can go back to our normal lives without having to see each other again. If you agree…” She shrugged, but Tyrion caught concern or dread flicker in her eyes. “Well, if you agree, I guess we’ll be seeing a lot more each other until we never have to interact again. At least, by then end of it, we’ll both be getting something out of it. A few years enduring you will be nothing compared to the years following.” She winced as if trying to convince herself. “Yes. It’ll be nothing. It has to be…”

    “This is madness. You’re both mad.” Tyrion shook his head. Why did it have to be her? Why couldn’t it have been someone Tyrion actually liked? Billan’s plan had been appealing, but for a witch to be his fiancée? A witch that was Senya? It would never work out. “I’ve had enough of this. I’m going to bed.”

    “Think carefully about it, Tyrion,” Billan said as Tyrion headed for the door. “Your mother is coming tomorrow, isn’t she? Decide before then, who you’ll be presenting as your betrothed. I’ll hope it’s Senya because if it’s Pria, then there’s nothing more I can do to help you.”