I sat there thinking. I was leaving Valerion behind. Was I really going to leave without Caleb? Going to Larkin was not the issue – I wanted to leave – but what about Caleb? I could not leave Caleb behind.
"You all right?" Gideon asked.
"Yes," I replied, startled. "Why?"
"You have that look," he said. "That you had on your face yesterday."
I frowned at my reflection. "What?"
What look? My face always looked like this. It always had. I was not making an expression. I was not trying to communicate anything. I was just – existing. But people had been telling me I had a look my whole life.
I never really smiled. People said I looked at them like they were nothing, like I was belittling them without even trying. It was part of the reason I got screamed at, shouted out, sometimes beaten. All because of my face. Because my features did not arrange themselves into the soft, submissive pleasantness expected of an omega. Because my eyes were too sharp, my mouth too straight, my default expression too close to disdain for anyone to tolerate.
My brother especially hated it. Every time he saw me, his face would twist with annoyance, then anger. He would say I was looking down on him, that I thought I was better than him, that I was mocking him with my silence and my stillness. And then he would order the maids to hit me, or he would do it himself. Such foolish games. Such a waste of anger over something I could not control.
"You came into the hall crying yesterday," Gideon said, his voice soft. "But even with tears on your face, you had that look. Like you were somewhere else. Like you had already left." He watched my reflection, patient. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"
I hesitated. Did I tell him? Did I tell him that I wanted to bring my friend with me, that the thought of leaving Caleb behind had carved a hole in my chest that I was not sure would ever close? But how could I explain? What would he think of a prince whose only friend was a servant? What would he think of an omega who spent his nights sneaking into the servant's quarters to read novels by candlelight with a boy who had no family, no title, no value in the eyes of the world?
There were too many things that would be questioned. Too many things that would need explaining.
"If it is something I can help with," Gideon added, and there was something in his voice that made me look at him. He was not asking out of politeness. He was not performing courtesy for a new mate he did not yet know how to handle. He meant it.
I thought about it for a long moment. My reflection stared back at me, pale and uncertain, and I saw the look he was talking about. It was there in the set of my jaw, the way my eyes had gone distant. The look of someone who was already mourning what they were about to lose.
Then an idea came to me. A small, desperate, foolish idea. I just had to try. If it worked – if it worked, everything would be different.
"You know we are going to Larkin," I said carefully.
"Yes." His voice was neutral, waiting.
"It is going to be my new home." I paused, watching him through the mirror. His face was unreadable, but he was listening. "And I know nobody there." Another pause. My heart was beating too fast. "I don't know if I could bring my maid. He is really calm and quiet. He does not take up much space. He is –" I stopped myself before I could say too much. Before I could say he is the only family I have ever had.
"A maid?" Gideon asked. His brow lifted slightly, not in judgment, just curiosity. "You wish to bring a servant with you to Larkin?"
I nodded, my throat tight.
"Who is he?" Gideon turned from the mirror to face me directly. "What is his name?"
"Caleb," I said. "He has been with me for years."
"Caleb," Gideon repeated, as if testing the name. "And why is he so important to you? Most nobles do not grow attached to their servants."
I swallowed. I could not possibly say that he was my friend – that would be so strange. How could I explain that a mere servant was my friend, I being the second Prince of a nation?
"He has been my personal attendant for many years," I lied.
Gideon's expression did not change.
"Larkin is such a far kingdom and I know no one there. I just want someone who knows me a little bit to come with me."
He said nothing.
"I promise he will not be an issue. He is very nice and quiet. He would attend only to me," I explained further.
I could not tell what he was thinking. His face was blank.
Gideon was quiet for a long moment. "He works for you?"
"Yes," I said. "He is my personal maid. He is the only one I want to bring along."
Oh, was he going to say no? I knew it was impossible for him to agree to this. It made no sense to let your omega bring a person from their own kingdom – the kingdom which was your enemy. What if he was a spy? Garlison, help me. I prayed to the Goddess. I could not leave Caleb behind. Father would kill him.
Gideon was silent for another moment. Then he nodded. "He may come."
I stared at him. "Truly?"
"Truly." Gideon's voice was firm but not unkind. "He is your personal attendant, is he not?"
"Yes! Yes! Yes, he is," I said excitedly.
"Then he may come," Gideon said.
I could hardly believe it. "Thank you," I whispered.
Gideon's mouth curved. "Do not thank me yet. Go and find him. I shall have the carriage made ready. But be quick – the roads will be harder if we wait too long."
"I will be quick. I promise."
I was already out the door before the last word left my mouth, my boots ringing against the stone corridor, my cloak forgotten on the bed.