A Dove's Tale

Chapter 17

A male voice, presumably Sariel, answered my knock at his office door.

“Come in.”

I entered with some trepidation, shutting the door carefully behind me. He sat at his desk, his lavender eyes narrowed and sizing me up behind his glasses. Like Prince Leon, he had black hair and wore black clothes, but that was where the similarity ended. There was something frightening about his thin smile. He sat with his elbows propped up on the desk, white cuffs peeking out just past the ends of his jacket sleeves, and he touched the tips of his black-gloved fingers together as he looked me over. And look me over he did, head to toe. An image of a snake measuring its prey flashed through my mind, maybe because of the snakeskin print down the front of his jacket. I did my best to shut that image away and force a smile.

“My name is Ivetta. The head maid said you wanted to see me?”

“Sit down.”

I did so, glad for the heavy wooden desk that separated us. Books, documents, and blank parchment littered the desk in front of him, and large rolls of paper stuck out of a decorative pot to my left. Maroon and gold tapestries framed the windows behind him, with an open book embroidered in gold on the central portion of the draperies directly above his head. The red and gold carpet beneath me was plush and luxurious, but clearly, comfort was not the priority in this office. Sariel took his work seriously. He looked to be about the same age as Prince Jin, early thirties, I guessed, and he couldn’t have gained his position as the king’s regent at such a young age unless he was a hard worker.

Or unless he used underhanded methods, perhaps.

“Are you aware of the manner by which the next king is chosen?” he asked.

No small talk, then - he was getting straight to the point. Although what that point may be, I didn’t know, and the odd question didn’t enlighten me.

“I’ve heard a bit about it, but I don’t know much. I know it’s not as simple as the oldest legitimate prince automatically inheriting the throne.”

“Correct. A commoner, a girl with a pure and beautiful heart, is given the title of Belle, and she represents the people and selects the next king.”

Suddenly, I saw where this was going, and I didn’t like it.

“The king is very ill, and it would be best if a new king were to be selected before he passes away. It has come to my attention that you fit the criteria of Belle.”

His frightening smile hadn’t changed at all, as if it were an everyday thing for a maid to be chosen to name the next king.

“I’m flattered, but I’m afraid I can’t accept such a role,” I said carefully.

“And what could be more important than your duty to your country?” he asked, his smile widening and becoming even more dangerous. I could almost see a forked tongue slipping out of his mouth to taste me. But, as Theresa had reminded me, I could handle Prince Chevalier. Surely, I could handle this devil, too.

“My mother is very sick, and I can’t take on any more responsibilities that would keep me from her.”

“That will be no problem. I will have you both moved here to the palace, and she will have a nurse assigned to her while you perform your duties as Belle.”

He removed his elbows from the desk, reaching for a blank piece of parchment and a quill. I realized he was going to write the order now unless I could come up with a reason good enough to stop him.

“Thank you, but I don’t want to put her through the stress of moving her. Surely you can find somebody else.”

Not good enough. I knew that as soon as the words left my mouth.

“Your integrity only serves to reinforce what I’ve heard of you. Belle must be named now, and you have already met all the princes. I see no reason you should not take on this role.”

He was slippery and smooth, almost as difficult to handle as Prince Clavis. Almost. But although I would give up and give in when it came to me, this was my mother, and I wasn’t budging for her.

“Perhaps you don’t, but I do, and from what you’ve said, it sounds like the role of Belle is a voluntary position. If you still need a Belle later, when my mother is-” I stopped, the words catching in my throat. He dipped his quill in the inkpot. I swallowed the lump in my throat and continued. “My answer is no,” I said firmly, standing up and heading for the door.

“Ivetta,” he called sharply, stopping me in my tracks.

I turned back to face him. He, too, had stood, and he was rounding the desk, coming toward me. He was as tall as Prince Chevalier, and the coattails of his jacket were exceedingly long, ending just above his ankles, with slits up to his hips dividing plain black material at the back from snakeskin print at the front. A dark purple sash, similar to that worn by a priest, hung from his neck down to his ankles, meeting under his arms to form a sort of vest around his back. He wore black pants and black boots, and a series of black belts wrapping around his legs made it difficult to tell where exactly the boots ended. I had to admit that he really did look like the devil. Or, at least, what I imagined the devil might look like if he was a court minister.

“If I find someone who meets the criteria of Belle, I’ll let you know,” I said, making direct eye contact and refusing to allow him to intimidate me. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m late for work.”

He came to a stop in front of me, far too close for comfort, but I held my ground.

“This conversation isn’t over,” he said quietly.

“It is for me. Goodbye.”

I turned and left, hoping he’d leave it at that, expecting him to grab my arm and stop me. Only when the door latched closed behind me was I able to let out my pent-up breath, but my heart continued pounding as I made my way to Prince Chevalier’s room. This day was already off to a rough start.

Me as Belle?

The whole Belle system was weird to me. I knew why it was in place. The royal family used to be ruthless, with the throne changing hands frequently through assassinations and intrigue. Commoners began calling the royal family noble beasts for their animalistic behavior. The people instituted the Belle system to put an end to all of that, and, overall, it worked pretty well. Without it, Prince Chevalier would automatically inherit the throne, because even though he was the second-born, his mother was the queen.

It was a frightening thought.

He was still asleep when I arrived at his room, an unmoving lump under the blankets. I shut the door slowly and quietly so the latch wouldn’t click, and then I got to work.

“You’re late,” he mumbled.

I looked over at the bed, startled by his voice. He’d pulled the covers down just enough for me to see his sleepy blue eyes. They didn’t look angry, and there was nothing threatening in his tone - yet.

“My apologies, your highness. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

He pushed the comforter back and stretched languidly.

“And how is Four-Eyes this morning?”

Four-Eyes must be Sariel, but how did he know about my meeting with him? And why was he awake, anyway? He never woke easily.

“This was my first time seeing him, so I can’t say for sure, but he seemed well enough, your highness,” I said, swallowing down my questions and opening his drapes.

Well enough to squeeze the breath out of me and eat me alive, I thought as another unpleasant image flashed through my mind. I pushed it firmly away. The ordeal with the snake was over, and I had to focus on the here and now if I didn’t want to be torn apart by the tiger.

“I’ll be back in a moment with your breakfast,” I added, turning to go, but I stopped when I met Prince Chevalier’s icy blue eyes. He was sitting up on the edge of the bed, facing me, just a few feet away. I swallowed nervously. He always got out on the other side of the bed.

“Will you be accepting the role of Belle?”

“No, I will not, your highness.”

“Good.”

He stood up and took a step toward me, cutting off my exit and making my heart rate shoot through the roof, but he only poked me lightly in the forehead with a teasing smirk.

“Prince Chevalier?” I asked, confused, but I didn’t know what to say beyond that.

“My breakfast,” he replied coolly, the smirk vanishing in an instant.

He turned away and disappeared into the bathroom, leaving me as bewildered as Prince Clavis usually did. I felt the beginning of a headache coming on. This day was already strange. Hopefully, if I kept my mouth shut and my head down for the rest of the day, it would go a little smoother than yesterday. The mask. I had to put the mask on and keep it in place.

Was it so impossible to have just one normal day?

Prince Chevalier didn’t speak again that morning, much to my relief. I finished up in his room and made my escape to the library. My croissant was still there, three days old and hard as a rock, but I ate it anyway and got to work. I had no visitors that morning. By lunchtime, I was starting to relax, even as I reminded myself not to let my guard down. Anything could happen here at the palace.

Especially when Prince Clavis was involved.

“So, you won’t be Belle?” he asked, interrupting my lunch break and sitting on the opposite end of the window seat from me. “What a shame. I was looking forward to all the fun that would bring.”

Did he even know how much misery he brought me yesterday? Did he care?

Was that why he’d been harassing me? Because he wanted me to be Belle? Maybe that meant he’d leave me alone now. I felt bad for whoever was to become Belle, but any break from Prince Clavis was very much welcome to me.

“I’m sorry that I’ll no longer be able to provide you with amusement, your highness,” I said with the sweetest fake smile I could muster.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Sariel just gave orders for your mother to be brought here,” he said with a smirk and a gleam in his eyes.

My heart stopped. I was on my feet before Prince Clavis could say anything more, running at full speed out of the library and through the halls to burst into Sariel’s office. He was bent over his desk, and his head snapped up to look at me as I flung the door open. I slammed my hands down on the desk in front of him, meeting his narrow lavender eyes head-on.

“My mother is dying, and a move will probably kill her,” I said angrily, my blood boiling, my voice rising uncontrollably. “You can’t use her to force me into the role of Belle. I won’t allow it!”

He was still smiling that terrifying smile, although his lavender eyes were flashing.

“Sit down,” he commanded.

“Call it off!” I shouted, too upset to be intimidated.

He snapped his fingers. A servant appeared, seemingly out of the woodwork.

“You heard the lady. Cancel the orders regarding her mother.”

“Yes, sir,” the servant said, his voice trembling. He bowed and turned to go, his face pale as he gave me the widest berth possible.

I had done it, I realized as a wave of relief washed over me. I’d battled with the devil and won.

Where my mother was concerned, anyway.

The adrenaline rush was already fading, and I was shaking as I took my hands off of the desk. Sariel’s placid expression belied the anger in his lavender eyes. I didn’t regret my actions, but there would definitely be consequences. Yelling at a court minister was unacceptable. Yelling at the king’s regent - unthinkable.

“Sit down,” he repeated.

I obeyed, watching him nervously. He said nothing as he walked past me and out of sight. I didn’t turn around, even when I heard the door latch closed, even when his footsteps returned, stopping right behind me. He caught my chin in one hand and my ponytail in the other, yanking my head backwards. His breath was hot on my face as he leaned over me with that horrible smile. I stared up at him, trying not to tremble.

“Never do that again,” he hissed. “Do you understand?”

I swallowed hard, my heart racing. “Yes, sir.”

“Good,” he said in a normal tone, releasing me. He walked back to his chair and sat down. “You are dismissed.”

“Thank you, sir,” I replied quietly, a slight tremor in my voice.

That could have been worse. It would be worse if I messed up again. I rose from the chair and left, reminding myself to breathe. Prince Clavis was waiting for me in the hallway outside Sariel’s office.

“Well, well, you are full of surprises.”

I ignored him and kept walking. He fell in step beside me.

“You’re a bit pale, Ivetta. Something wrong?” he asked, smirking.

“No, your highness,” I said evenly.

“I’m glad. I’d hate to think Sariel did something to upset you.”

Why couldn’t he just leave me alone?

My book lay face down on the floor in front of the alcove. I picked it up, smoothing the crinkled pages as I sat back down on the window seat. Prince Clavis took up his seat across from me, as before.

“You’re really a passionate little dove, aren’t you?” he mused, his golden eyes dancing gleefully.

“Prince Clavis,” I said quietly, “if you don’t mind, I’d like to spend the rest of my break reading. Alone.”

“That may be difficult. You’re just too entertaining.”

I sighed, irritated. “What do I have to do to get you to leave, Prince Clavis?”

He slid closer to me, taking the book and setting it aside. His hand crossed in front of me to rest on the wall behind my head, cutting off my only exit, his sly grin far too close for comfort.

“I suppose there is something you can do - if you really want to be left alone,” he said, dropping his voice conspiratorially.

“What is it?” I asked, my mouth dry.

“It’s quite simple, really. You just have to keep that pretty little mouth shut,” he replied, tracing a finger around my lips. I slapped his hand away, anger rising in my chest again.

“Don’t touch me.”

He stood up, laughing as he looked down at me. “You’re not just another pretty face, are you?”

I glared up at him. “Just go away.”

He left without another word, still laughing.

The headache was getting worse.