Chapter 309: A Gentleman’s Touch
Chapter 308: A Gentleman’s Touch
Lyria’s POV
Grand crystal chandeliers hung suspended overhead, though their candles remained unlit during the daylight hours.
The training floor occupied the heart of the hall, covered in thick layers of finely crafted leather mats dyed a rich charcoal grey. Their surface appeared firm enough for combat yet forgiving enough to soften hard falls.
Beyond the central arena lay carefully designated sections.
One held rows of exquisitely crafted weapons displayed upon polished walnut racks—longswords, rapiers, sabres, daggers, spears, staffs, axes, shields, bows, and crossbows, each maintained so meticulously that they gleamed beneath the daylight.
Another section housed beautifully carved wooden practice dummies reinforced with leather, alongside suspended sandbags and striking posts.
There was even an elevated gallery overlooking the grounds, furnished with elegant seating where members of the royal family or distinguished guests might comfortably observe tournaments and demonstrations without interfering.
Large braziers rested within decorative bronze stands around the hall, ready to warm the chamber during the colder months, while banners bearing the royal colours hung proudly between the columns.
Despite the grandeur, the room still carried the unmistakable scent of a place devoted to discipline.
Leather.
Steel.
Polished wood.
A faint trace of sweat from countless hours of practice.
The echoes of old battles seemed almost woven into the stone itself.
And at the centre of it all lay a broad open space.
"G-goddess," I breathed.
"Quite remarkable, is it not, Your Highness?" Phineas said with a faint smile.
I nodded, momentarily unable to find my voice.
The hall stood empty, though that did not surprise me in the least.
What surprised me far more was that I had never stumbled upon this place before.
After all the years I had spent wandering the palace in search of forgotten corridors and hidden chambers, it seemed almost impossible that somewhere this magnificent had escaped my notice.
The rain continued to patter softly against the towering windows, filling the vast hall with a curious sense of peace. Cool air drifted through the chamber, carrying with it the scent of polished leather, oiled steel, cedarwood, and stone.
The great doors creaked quietly behind us.
I turned and Earl Hawthorne stepped inside, his valet following a respectful pace behind him.
He, too, was dressed in practical attire suited for training. The simple cut of his clothing lacked ornament, yet somehow suited him all the better. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled neatly to his forearms, and as he walked, the fabric stretched comfortably across his broad shoulders.
I found my attention lingering upon the sight for a brief moment longer than it ought to have.
Earl Hawthorne bowed deeply.
"Your Highness," he said, warmth filling his voice as a smile spread across his face. "You came."
I smiled, feeling a flutter of something within my chest that I could not quite name.
"I c-came," I confirmed. "I was q-quite curious a-as to what the t-training grounds l-looked like. I have n-never been h-here b-before. And... i-it has b-been some t-time s-since we last h-had a conversation."
His smile widened, his expression brightening even further.
"I have quite missed you," he admitted simply.
A soft chuckle escaped me before I could stop it.
"I q-quite missed you a-as well," I confessed.
There was a brief pause before I remembered something.
"I t-thank you for the s-soup you had s-sent while I w-was recovering," I said. "My m-maids made s-sure I received i-it... and that I f-finished every d-drop."
Earl Hawthorne laughed, the sound rich and genuine.
"I am very glad," he replied. "I had hoped it might be of some help."
He closed the distance between us then, his steps measured and unhurried.
Before I could fully comprehend what he intended, he lifted a hand and gently rested his palm against my forehead.
I froze.
His skin was pleasantly warm, and without meaning to, I found myself holding my breath.
He kept his hand there for a moment before placing his other hand against his own forehead, quietly comparing our temperatures.
"Your temperature appears perfectly normal," he observed.
I swallowed.
My throat had suddenly become rather dry.
"I am r-recovering w-well," I managed. "The p-physician s-said as much."
He leaned forward slightly then, studying my face with an intensity that made my heart falter.
I could see the tiny flecks of colour within his eyes.
The faint lines gathered at their corners whenever he smiled.
The slight crease that formed between his brows as he examined me so carefully.
Then, after a moment, he straightened and gave a satisfied nod.
"Yes," he said. "I believe that is true. You are recovering remarkably well."
I blinked several times, feeling warmth flood my cheeks.
Unable to help myself, I quickly looked away, pretending to study one of the practice dummies nearby while discreetly fanning myself with my hand, as though that might somehow lessen the heat spreading across my face.
Why had he stood so close?
Why had he looked at me with such careful attention?
And why...
Why was I reacting in such an absurd manner?
I had always known Earl Hawthorne was handsome.
That much had been apparent from the very first moment I met him.
Yet never before had I felt so... affected by simply standing beside him.
This was ridiculous.
Why was I behaving in this fashion?
He had merely checked whether I had a fever.
It had been a thoughtful gesture.
Nothing more.
There was no reason whatsoever for my heart to be racing so wildly or for my breath to catch every time I looked at him.
And yet...
Earl Hawthorne’s voice interrupted my thoughts.
"Is something the matter, Your Highness?" he asked.
I turned back to him, doing my utmost to compose myself.
"N-nothing," I replied rather quickly. "I am q-quite f-fine, my l-lord."
He tilted his head slightly, his brow knitting together.
"Your face is rather flushed," he observed. "Perhaps I was mistaken. Perhaps you do have a fever after all."
His expression became noticeably more troubled.
He sighed quietly.
"If you are still unwell, then I fear we shall not be able to do what I had planned for today."