Fated Eclipse: The Illegitimate Princess And Her Alpha Suitors

Chapter 350: The Goggles

Tommy gave Evander a look.

He looked like he had something to say, but he was trying with considerable effort not to say it.

Evander stared back at him. He knew why Tommy looked at him that way, but he said nothing.

The silence stretched between them for a while, and then Evander spoke up, giving in.

"Perhaps," he said slowly, his voice carrying a note of dry amusement, "you have something you wish to say?"

Tommy looked around at the gathered suitors, his gaze sweeping across their faces before returning to Evander. He shook his head, the gesture quick and decisive.

Perhaps if they were alone, he would have spoken up, but alas, they were not.

"No, Your Grace," he said.

Evander knew very well that was a lie.

He had known Tommy long enough to recognise the signs—the slight tightening around his eyes, the way his jaw worked as though he were physically restraining the words that wanted to escape. Tommy was not good at hiding his feelings. He never had been.

Evander sighed, the sound long and weary.

"I am not going to die, Tommy boy."

The boy’s expression did not change.

"I know that, Your Grace. And if at all you are to die, it will not be during a sparring competition like this," he said. "And besides, you have nine lives. You have survived many incidents."

Evander chuckled at that, the sound warm despite his earlier weariness. He reached out and tapped Tommy lightly on the head with his knuckles.

Tommy rubbed the spot, a pout forming on his lips.

"That hurt," he muttered.

"It was meant to," Evander replied cheerfully.

Tommy opened his mouth as though to respond, then seemed to think better of it. He shook his head, the gesture almost imperceptible, and extended something wrapped in cloth towards Julian.

Julian frowned at the offering.

"What is this?"

Evander gestured for him to take it.

"Take it," he said. "We consulted Edmund before doing it, so it is the correct prescription."

Julian’s frown deepened at the mention of his valet, but he reached out and accepted the wrapped bundle. The cloth was soft beneath his fingers, the object within solid and unfamiliar.

He unwrapped it carefully.

Inside lay a pair of goggles.

They were not the delicate spectacles he was accustomed to wearing. These were sturdier, built for movement and exertion. A strap at the back would keep them secure, preventing them from falling off during the rigours of combat.

Julian stared at them.

Benedict stepped closer, his voice carrying a note of encouragement.

"Try them on," he said. "See if they work."

Julian nodded slowly, removing his spectacles and placing them carefully in his pocket. He lifted the goggles and settled them over his eyes, adjusting the strap until it fit securely.

He blinked, his eyes adjusting until the world came into focus, sharp and clear.

It really was the same prescription as his spectacles. He could see perfectly.

A slow breath escaped him.

"Oh," Julian said in surprise.

Lucian gave Evander a long, assessing look.

"This is rather sentimental of you," he observed.

Evander shrugged, the gesture casual.

"I care about people who care about me," he said simply. "And besides, someone I know likes Julian. I will do everything in my power to help him if I can."

Lucian’s eyes narrowed.

"Is that your approach?"

Evander smiled, the expression carrying more than a hint of mystery.

"You will never know," he said.

Benedict spoke up then, his voice carrying a note of genuine curiosity.

"What about me?" he asked. "If Lucian cannot know, can I know?"

Evander chuckled, just as Alistair laughed loudly.

"This is not my approach," Evander said. "I am simply helping a friend. Who knows when I might need Julian’s help in the future?"

Alistair smirked, shaking his head slowly.

"I do not believe you are simply doing this in case you need Julian’s help in the future," he said. "But I will not argue the point."

Evander laughed again, the sound carrying more warmth than before. He turned to Tommy, his voice light.

"Pass the spectacles on to Edmund," he said.

Tommy nodded, his movements quick and efficient as he accepted the spectacles from Julian. He tucked them into his pocket, then paused.

He hesitated.

His gaze lingered on Evander, his expression carrying that same weight of unspoken concern.

Then he sighed.

He bowed, the gesture quick and respectful, and then he turned and ran off.

Benedict watched him go.

"Tommy cares a great deal about you," he observed.

Evander’s expression softened almost imperceptibly.

"Tommy has an old nurse’s soul," he said. "He is a worrywart. It is exhausting and endearing in equal measure."

Julian adjusted the goggles again, testing their fit.

"I must admit, I did not expect this," he said.

Evander glanced at him.

"Neither did I, when I first saw them."

Julian looked towards him.

"You had them prepared beforehand?"

"Yes."

Julian was quiet for a moment, turning the answer over as though searching for some hidden motive beneath it. He did not find one worth voicing, or perhaps he simply chose not to press the matter further.

"You are a strange man, Your Grace," he said finally.

"So I have been told," Evander replied, entirely unbothered by the observation.

Alistair, who had been watching the exchange with evident amusement, clapped a hand against Julian’s shoulder.

"Do not waste your breath trying to make sense of him," he said. "I have long since given up the endeavour."

"A wise decision," Evander said.

Lucian, meanwhile, had turned his attention towards the arena floor, where the first pair of contestants were making their final preparations. His expression grew thoughtful, the earlier teasing fading from his features.

Evander’s gaze drifting briefly towards the royal dais, where the King and Queen sat beneath their canopy, and further still, to where Lyria sat in her seat, her posture composed even from this distance.

Julian noticed the direction of his gaze but said nothing of it.

"Do you intend to watch the whole of it," he asked instead, "or merely wait your turn?"

"I intend to watch," Evander said. "One learns a great deal about a man by how he fights when he believes no one of consequence is paying him any mind."

"And what do you hope to learn?"

Evander’s smile was faint, unreadable.

"That," he said, "remains to be seen."

Just then, the bell rang.

The sound cut through the arena, sharp and commanding, silencing the murmur of the crowd.

The first competition was about to begin.

Two figures stepped forward, each holding a sword.

The light caught the edges of the blades, gleaming with the promise of conflict.

The crowd leaned forward in their seats, anticipation thick in the air.

The first match was about to begin.

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