Fated Eclipse: The Illegitimate Princess And Her Alpha Suitors

Chapter 346: Faces in the Crowd

Lyria’s POV

The maids helped me freshen up, their movements quick and efficient as they prepared me for the day ahead. The warm water soothed my skin, chasing away the last remnants of sleep that still clung to me, and by the time they were finished, I felt more alert than I had in days.

My hair was styled in a simple plait, neat and practical, with a few loose strands framing my face. The gown they had chosen for me was simple but beautiful—a soft shade of lavender that caught the light whenever I moved, the fabric falling in soft, unhurried folds to the floor. A thin trim of silver thread traced the neckline and sleeves, catching the light without drawing too much attention. It was not as elaborate as the gown I had worn to the ball, but it was elegant in its own quiet way, the kind of dress that did not ask to be noticed and was noticed all the same.

"Perfect," Elara said, stepping back to admire her work.

Pippa nodded in agreement. "You look lovely, Your Highness."

I smiled at them, grateful for their efforts.

"T-thank you."

They escorted me through the palace corridors, their footsteps steady and reassuring beside me. The afternoon sun hung high in the sky, casting warm light through the tall windows and pooling in long stripes across the marble floor. The palace seemed quieter than usual, as though everyone had already made their way to the arena, leaving only the echo of our footsteps behind.

We emerged through a side entrance, and I paused.

The arena stretched before me, vast and impressive. I had seen it before, years ago, when I had stolen a glimpse through a corner during a knight’s competition. I had been careful then, making sure no one saw me, because for some reason the Queen had not wanted me to shadow Jacinta as she normally did. I had watched from the shadows, hidden and unnoticed, and I had wondered what it would be like to sit in amongst others freely.

Now, I was about to find out.

The arena was open to the sky, the grey light of the afternoon casting soft shadows across the weathered stone. It was immense, with tiered seating rising in sweeping curves around the central space, row upon row climbing higher until they seemed to blur into the sky itself. The seats were carved of pale stone, worn smooth by generations of hands and footsteps, and they stretched upward in neat, endless lines.

At the far end, where the royal family would sit, there was a raised dais with a canopy overhead to provide shade, its fabric a deep, regal blue embroidered with the royal crest. Below it, slightly lower, were two seats—one for Jacinta and one for me.

I was escorted to my seat, and I sat down carefully, mindful of the gown pooling around me. The stone was cool beneath me even through the fabric, and I looked out at the crowd, my breath catching slightly at the sheer size of it.

Nobles had already taken their seats, their fine clothes and polished manners setting them apart from the commoners who filled the sections further back. The separation was unmistakable—the nobles had the best views, their seats closer to the action, cushioned and shaded, while the commoners were relegated to the higher tiers, exposed to the sun and packed shoulder to shoulder.

But even from a distance, I could see the differences among the commoners themselves. Some were dressed in their best, but their best was not much. Some wore clothes with visible patches, the fabric worn thin from years of use. Others had clearly tried to dress up for the occasion, ribbons pinned carefully into hair or a borrowed shawl draped over thin shoulders, but the roughness of their garments was unmistakable beneath the effort.

They did not seem to care, though. They were laughing, talking, pointing at the arena with excitement. Children ran between the rows, their shrieks of laughter carrying across the open space, weaving between legs and baskets of food with the boundless energy only children seemed to possess.

I noticed something else, too. Perhaps not only those from the capital had arrived to watch. Some must have travelled from nearby territories to witness the spectacle, their accents and dress subtly different from those I recognized.

But there was one group that stood out. They were waving a flag—a dark banner with the symbol of the house of Hale emblazoned upon it. The symbol was a black wolf’s head, its jaws open as though mid-howl, surrounded by silver stars.

I almost rolled my eyes. I would not be surprised if Corvin had paid those people to be here, to show their support for him.

But then I saw something else.

My gaze drifted across the crowded seating, and I noticed a group that had clearly paid a considerable amount to afford their seats. Their clothes were better than most commoners, though still not noble. They had spent a lot for this, I realiszed.

And then the little girl turned around.

She was small, with brown hair pulled back in two thick braids tied with simple dark ribbon. She was searching for something—someone—her head swiveling this way and that, small hands gripping the edge of her seat.

Then her gaze landed on the dais.

On me.

She immediately touched her mother’s arm frantically and then pointed towards me.

Her mother turned.

And I held my breath.

I would know those faces anywhere.

Before my maids, they had been there. They had been the ones who had shown me kindness when I had no right to expect it. They had been the ones who had given me a place to belong, even if only for a few hours at a time.

I stared at the mother and child and they stared back at me. My fingers wringing with each other as my heart beat erratically in my chest.

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