Chapter 187: The Marquess's Poem
Lyria's POV
I turned toward Duke Valenridge after I was done speaking, and he had a smile on his face.
It was small and brief, and he did not hold it long, but it was there — and it was the most unguarded expression I had seen on his face since he had laughed at the lake.
Then he turned toward the Queen and bowed.
"Princess Lyria," he said, "has explained it perfectly well."
He did not wait to hear a reply or wait to be dismissed.
He simply turned and walked back to where he had been standing among the candidates, with the same unhurried ease he brought to everything, as though the concept of waiting for permission had simply never occurred to him as a requirement.
The Queen watched him go. She did not say anything, but it was obvious to me she was annoyed.
The competition continued.
