The lords and ladies are dressed up in their finery, all chatting with each other as if nothing happened yesterday. I shake my head as that anger tries to build up within me again.
“Don’t be mad at them. This is all they know,” Aileen tells me quietly, her watchful eyes on me. Arching an eyebrow, I wait for her to continue. “They don’t know adversity like we do. They’ve never had to work a day in their lives. Yesterday was a big shock for them. If they don’t have some sense of normality, then they will crack under the pressure of it.”
I turn to look at the parading nobility again and notice the signs of strain—the tense smiles and staying together in small groups. Aileen is right. I think back to what she said. I had known she was different than everyone else, but I know next to nothing about her.
“What gives you the impression that I’ve faced adversity?” I query, careful to keep my face and voice blank, although internally I nervously await her answer.
“You hold yourself completely differently than the others.” Panic surges through my veins. If Aileen can tell I’m different, won’t the others? I’m supposed to be blending in. I already stand out enough from being new to court, and I don’t need something else identifying me as different. “Don’t worry, the others wouldn’t notice it, they are too self-involved,” she quickly reassures me, sensing my unease. “I think, when you’ve faced death and come out on the other side, it changes you and you learn to recognise it in others.”
I think over what she says, and I realise she’s right. Turning away from the brightly coloured nobles, I open my mouth to comment when a loud banging fills the hall. One of the priests has mounted the raised platform at the front of the hall where the thrones sit, currently empty as he thumps his staff against the wooden floor. A hush falls over the room as people hurry to their seats, all turning anxiously to look at the priest. He’s wearing a smug smile, like he has information we don’t and he is loving that fact. He stays silent so long that people start to whisper to each other, confused about what’s going on, until he takes a step forward and clears his throat.
“All rise for the King of Arhaven.”
Seemingly as one, we stand in unison, every set of eyes on the large, arched doors as we wait with bated breath for our king. I’ve never felt so much tension in one room before, the air is practically vibrating with it. The king appears in the doorway and pauses as he assesses the scene before him. I’m sure I see a small, smug smile before it’s quickly wiped away into a fierce expression.
That can’t be right, what does he have to be smug about? He just killed his wife. I must be seeing things, I think to myself, however I can’t discard the feeling I am right, which is something I don’t even want to contemplate right now. Part of me rebels, the part that twists my anger, stirring it up and stoking it to life.
He regularly puts children into slavery and works them until they die. Are you really that surprised?
The king’s eyes flick to me as soon as I think it, holding my stare until I quickly avert my gaze. It was almost like…like he could read my mind.
That’s not possible, I berate myself. It was a coincidence.
When I hear the sound of his booted feet walking through the hall, I raise my head once again, seeing Rhydian following closely behind his father. The crowned prince looks fierce, which I suppose is a good trait to have for ordering troops on the battlefield, but it doesn’t help reassure us in these uncertain times. The other princes trail after, with Michael entering next, but it’s Jacob that my eyes lock onto. He looks awful. A large, purple bruise covers his right eye and his lip is split and swollen. He seems furious as he stares at his father ahead of him, completely different from the happy, bookish prince I’ve come to know.
Then I remember, his father killed his mother yesterday.
In silence, the royals take their seats and look out at their subjects. The queen’s empty throne stands tall, the lack of her presence glaring like a beacon, pulling every eye to it even though you want to look anywhere but there. Like the