Chill (Klance Warmth series Book 2 of +4)

2: Nip it in the Bud

"You still haven't shown him, have you?"

The princess sighed and refused to look at her adviser. She knew Coran was disappointed with her. She was disappointed with herself for her weakness. But that didn't mean she was ready to face her weakness.

"I haven't found the right moment," she said, pretending to focus on the task at hand.

"You and I both know that's not true," Coran said gently.

Allura could feel her adviser's disapproval from across the room. It irked her to admit it, but he was right. There had been plenty of opportunities to tell her brother, to show her brother the truth. But she'd procrastinated, putting it off until later; until two full quintants had passed since her paladins had first formed Voltron.

It wasn't fair to Lance that only she knew their father still lived on in a memory core installed in the Castle. Allura knew this. She knew this, and still she procrastinated. It was selfish and the guilt was eating away at her. Talking to Father was something she knew Lance needed just as badly as she did. But at the same time, she didn't want to share.

She knew she was being petty and this was no time for such childishness. But she couldn't fight back the lingering sadness and desire to keep this for herself. She felt like a burden who served no purpose for their self-dubbed Team Voltron save her tie to the Lions. She wasn't an asset so much as an annoying tag-along whose sole purpose was to keep the Lions alive and functioning correctly.

This was stupid and nowhere near the truth, but it felt like that sometimes. Even Lance, her childlike tease of a brother, was a paladin. She knew what her brother had suffered when he'd been held captive by the Galra. She knew he had inadvertently allowed himself to become the focal point of Zarkon's attention just to protect her. But he'd never asked her if she even wanted to be protected. Even Father hadn't asked her before having Lance throw her into a cryopod and leave her to sleep in lonely silence for over 10,000 decaphoebs.

So yes, she held a grudge. She understood her father's reasoning and she knew Lance only did what he did because he loved her, but it still hurt her pride. She was an Altean princess, voted into the office of Heir Apparent, and trained in diplomacy and self-defense. She wasn't helpless.

But was her pride really a good enough reason to keep her father and Lance apart? Was this her way of punishing them for bruising her pride? If so, then her pride was more sensitive than she'd thought. This was not what she'd been brought up to be; a spoiled princess who took petty revenge for unimportant slights. Even if those unimportant slights had long-lasting consequences. She was better than that.

Finally, Allura sighed, her entire form drooping in defeat. "Alright," she said eventually. "I'll tell him tonight. After the Arusians leave."

"Princess," Coran began, reaching out to the young woman who had once been a child in his arms.

"If I show him before, he won't be in an acceptable state to greet and mingle with the guests," Allura said.

"That may be so," her adviser said, stepping forward so he stood next to her. He gently placed his hands on both of Allura's shoulders and turned her around so she no longer gazed at the empty holodeck but into his sad eyes. "But is that really the wisest decision or are you still trying to delay the inevitable?"

The princess bowed her head. "I'll pull him aside after the party-"

"Might I suggest a compromise?" Coran suggested, cutting the princess's argument off. "Let Lance stay at the party for a while," he said. "Then excuse yourself and take Lance to the holodeck. He needs this, Allura," Coran said, squeezing the princess's shoulders. "He needs this. The party will be fine without him for an varga or so. You're a magnificent hostess and with your paladins by your side, you'll be well protected."