Chapter Four
1440 Words
My legs were so numb that I wasn’t sure how I made it from the carriage to the Palace steps. The only thing making sure I didn’t pass out, or run, was my hand on the guard’s arm, which guided me steadily forward.
I kept my head low, picking out cracks and pebbles on the cobblestone. It was improper, I knew; I should have walked with my head held high, elated at my good fortune. Behind me, stepmother whacked her cane against my ankle, clearly unhappy about my show of poor grace. The action nearly made me trip, but my guard kept me standing.
“Don’t do that again.” He whispered in a low aside to her. I heard her suck in a sharp breath.
One foot in front of the other, I climbed, shaking. My feet were lead, and my heart hammered so loud in my chest that I was sure the others could hear it. I’d never wished for Papa more than now- he would protect me. Then again, perhaps this was my punishment for being the cause of his death. Maybe I deserved this. As we reached the last of the stairs though, I thought that maybe I didn’t. I’d taken responsibility for his demise; I had to live with it every day, bearing the consequences that followed. Wasn’t that punishment enough?
“Bow.”
Too late, I realized the guard was speaking to me. I hadn’t been aware we’d stopped, but I hastily dropped into a low curtsey, the last to do so.
“Your Majesty.” Stepmother greeted the King. “It is a pleasure.”
“The pleasure is all mine Lady Winchester.” A deep voice answered her. “You all may rise.”
Keeping my head lowered, I peeked at him from under my lashes. The King was tall, at least a head over me. His white beard was neatly trimmed, the only hair on his head, but it matched the royal colours of white and gold he wore. His brown eyes were warm, with laugh lines surrounding them. Raising his hand, he beckoned me forward.
“Let me look at you child.”
I stepped forward. Tilting my chin up, the King appraised my face, undoubtedly reading my fear in it. Taking my hand, he squeezed it gently.
“You are very welcome Lady Adira.” He smiled.
“Thank you, your Majesty.” I hoped my answering smile was more convincing than the stiff stretch of muscles it felt like.
“Let me introduce you to my son.”
Did I detect a sour note in his voice? He was still smiling as he stepped to the side, gesturing to a young man behind him, so maybe I had imagined it. A drop of sweat ran down my neck as I finally came face to face with the Prince.
My immediate impression was that he was as unhappy about this proposal as I was. His eyes were brown like his father’s, but incredibly different; There was no warmth in them anywhere, rather, an unrelenting coldness that seemed to run to his very soul. His hair was a dull black, standing out against the royal suit. He had a wide nose and thin lips that were pressed into a firm line as he stared at me. When he spoke, it was void of any emotion.
“Welcome Lady Adira. I’m happy to finally you.”
Happy? Does he even know the meaning of the word?
I couldn’t bring myself to speak, words completely lost to me. The silence stretched until the Prince scowled, turning to my stepmother.
“Have you delivered me a mute?”
I winced. He made it sound like I was the daily milk brought door to door.
“Not at all, your Highness. My stepdaughter is merely a shy girl.”
Lies. I wasn’t shy at all; I was terrified. Prince Rialóir turned back to me.
“Well? Are you not happy to meet me?”
The guard who’d escorted me gave a low cough. Clearing my dry throat, I dipped my head.
“My apologies. I am happy to make your acquaintance your Highness.” My voice shook terribly. I sounded like I was crying.
The air was thick with tension. I took the chance to glance at the Palace for the first time. Truly, it was marvelous. The limestone towers rose into the clouds, their green roofs standing out against the blue sky. The grand double doors behind the Prince were a dark wood, ornately carved, and standing ten feet tall. It must take a small army of men to open them, I thought. Outwardly, the castle looked like a picture from a storybook, but I knew there was no happy ending waiting inside.
“Perhaps His Highness would like to dine with Adira later? They could get to know one another.” Stepmother’s cheerful voice was painfully contrasting with the atmosphere.
“A splendid idea! I will make sure the cooks prepare the best of everything. Tell me, my dear, what is your fancy?” The King held out his arm to me.
“I enjoy a good venison, your Majesty,” I replied lowly, allowing him to lead me past his son.
***
That evening, I was trying my best to eat even a morsel of the delicious food in front of me. As promised, there was venison, cooked with vegetables and served with gravy. Dinner also included a light stew, shellfish, three different types of salads, and sweet white wine to wash it down. Sadly, I couldn’t sample anything. For the better part of an hour, my fork had been used to push the helpings around on my plate while trying not to make faces at the way Prince Rialóir stuffed his face. We dined privately, not including the two servants that stood behind our chairs, in a large hall. Wide windows let in the last rays of light from the setting sun.
Stepmother had insisted I wear the light blue gown, even when I’d protested. The colour did nothing for my skin tone, making me appear paler than I was. In the end, I’d relented; Why did I care what the Prince thought of me anyway?
“Do you like reading?” He asked me now. Bits of food spewed from his overstuffed mouth.
“Yes,” I replied.
He scoffed. “I hate reading. It bores me to tears.”
Then why did you ask? I thought irritably. It had been like this the whole dinner.
He took a long swig of his wine, signaling for a refill. That was his third glass already.
“What about dancing?” He inquired.
“Yes, I enjoy dancing your Highness.”
“I don’t.”
I sighed. “What does Your Highness enjoy?”
“Hunting.”
Why didn’t that surprise me? Still, I maintained a dignified sense of interest. “What do you hunt?”
“Everything.” He threw his arms out wide. “The thrill of the hunt is what I live for.”
My smile slipped a little. “Oh?”
“There is nothing better my Lady. To be able to take a life just like that,” He snapped his fingers, his eyes burning with excitement, “To have that kind of power!”
I lowered my gaze, hiding my appalled expression.
“Still,” He drawled, oblivious to my discomfort, “The hunt of deer has become tiresome of late. There are creatures in this Kingdom far more deserving of my arrow.”
“What does Your Highness refer to, may I ask?”
“The Keepers, of course!” He bellowed, startling me. “The way they attack my land without care, using their vile magik.”
“I’m sure not all Keepers are bad-“
The Prince responded to my words by slamming his fists on the table. His wine glass tipped over from the impact, spilling its contents on the floor. I trembled violently under his iron glare.
“They are all the same,” He shouted, “And I intend to send every one of them to Ifreann!”
Without another word, he stormed from the table, disappearing behind a door. My thoughts drifted to Madeline the baker, who had never hurt anyone. . . He would kill her, because of what she was. How many innocent lives would he take if he got the chance? With this marriage, he would get his chance. I pushed my plate away. Any blood spilt would be on my hands too.
- Writer
