Alabaster Cities (Kings and Thieves Book #2)

Chapter 38

**hello! It's been quite a bit since the last chapter, LMAO, I am still in England and I'm very very busy, but I figured y'all deserve a chapter, and I promise I'll be getting back to a regular posting schedule soon.Thanks for sticking with me, guys!!**

Chapter 38

"I hope you are not disappointed with the Capital," Camille said at tea the next morning.

Lyla had been awoken by a guard rapping on her door with an invitation from the princess, which Lyla had accepted immediately. She'd hurried over, a bit embarrassed to have slept in til half past eleven, and now sat across from Camille, who simply stared with some expectance as Lyla dabbed a bit of clotted cream on her raisin scone.

In truth, Lyla was having some difficulty keeping her eyes open. She confessed herself still exhausted after the previous day's events; as enjoyable as the evening had been.
Well, most of it.

"There isn't much to disappoint." Lyla wiped a crumb off of her lips. "It's magnificent; truly."

Camille's face softened, and Lyla suppressed a relieved sigh; here, it was so easy to say the right thing. Somehow she was unused to that.

"You were the talk of the party," Camille continued, but she didn't sound envious; Lyla thought she could detect a hint of approval in the princess's light, soprano voice. "How many people asked you to dance?"

Lyla looked down, flushing. "Not as many as you."

"I do not need everyone's admiration," she said with a half-smile.

"But you have it all the same-"

"A perk." Camille's shoulders lifted delicately, as if it did not matter to her either way, and that was what Lyla admired so much about the crown princess. To be adored by everyone in the world... and yet, while Camille doubtlessly enjoyed the attention, she obviously had enough confidence not to need it.

"Your friends did not seem to be enjoying themselves as much as you." Camille broke through Lyla's train of thought, popping a raspberry into her curved lips. "I suppose not everyone can handle the bustle of the city."

Lyla's smile faltered.

"They have much to worry about," she could only manage in reply, feeling a sudden stab of guilt that she was in here, chatting and sipping tea, while her friends were...
Well, where were they? They all seemed to be in such foul moods as of late. Lyla recalled how Aveline had snapped at her the other day when she had inquired after the children and swallowed tightly.

Camille made a thoughtful humming sound as she stood up, as if she'd read her thoughts.
"Have some more tea, Lyla." She curtsied, her head bowing slightly. "I will see you later today? There are a few people who are particularly eager to meet you."

Yes. The king. How nerve-racking.
"Y-yes, of course." Lyla scrambled to her feet. "Your Highness."

Camille quitted the room, then, leaving Lyla alone and slightly rattled with her thoughts. Sometimes Camille could be so impassive.
Then again; she was a princess. Who, apparently, actually preferred her company. How many else could boast of such a thing?

Lyla took another bite of her scone, gleefully swinging her legs off of her chair.

Surely, she'd been right; they'd been at the Capital for two days now, and nothing was amiss. She'd seen more in two days than in eighteen years of her life. She lived in a room atop a winding tower, by which she could throw open the windows every morning greet the golden, glittering city stretching to greet her over a flowerbox of scarlet poppies. The people were beautiful and cultured, and when she was with the princess, everyone wanted to meet her.