Chapter Five
“I see you still have a soft spot for him,” my mother said.
“Mother.”
“What? There’s nothing wrong with a little flirtation. Just don’t fall in love. He may not ever achieve a rank that allows him to marry you.”
“I don’t even want to marry,” I grumbled, not really meaning it, just liking to needle my mother.
“Don’t let your father hear you say that. He thinks every woman’s goal is marriage.” She straightened as though realizing she sounded critical. “Of course, he should think that way. The king should live in a way that inspires all of us. He is the embodiment of our values.”
“Except there’s one rule for him, and another for all of us.”
“Mara!”
“It’s true. He made an exception for himself to the divorce laws and has nineteen children when all women except his wife are allowed only one.”
Her brow furrowed. “Mara, you’re speaking nonsense again. Of course, the king must be allowed as many children as possible.” Her gaze bore into mine and she glanced at the chamber where Mikta had retreated. With a sigh, I relented.
“You’re right,” I said because I, of all people, should not speak so disloyally. I wouldn’t be here if the king wasn’t allowed unlimited offspring. My logic really was faulty.
“Have a care with your words, Mara,” she chided, again glancing toward where Mikta waited.
“Mama.” As an apology, I reached for her, but she evaded my hug.
“Mikta must be ready by now. You must be so lovely the Zulenii prince cannot take his beautiful eyes from you. Mayhap those eyes will make you forget all about Gaz.” She motioned for me to follow her.
“Gaz says he plans to be head of the royal guard one day,” I said.
My mother glanced back at me. “Ambitious. I like that. Mayhap there’s potential for him yet.”
I knew why she looked thoughtful suddenly. Ecdra was the current head of the royal guard, and he had married my father’s sister. Clearly, there was precedent for a man of that station to marry a royal princess.
My mother took my squished roll and tossed it into the rubbish bin, then whisked me into the bathtub.
The rest of the day was a blur of poking and prodding.
At least I wasn’t required to think or speak much.
I could daydream about Gaz’s callused fingers on my face and what his kiss might have felt like.
I was ready for the banquet hours before it began, but my mother insisted we arrive a few minutes late.
She liked to make an entrance. I had no doubt she would make a spectacular entrance as she wore a flowing gold dress with long, loose sleeves that were sheer and seemed to float about her arms. She’d taken her hair down, and it too fell over her back like dark ribbons.
Mikta had wanted to put me in gold as well, but my mother insisted on a dress of burnished copper.
She said it would bring out my eyes, which was something I didn’t want to do.
But my mother had the same eyes. I had to admit, hers looked lovely in her gold dress.
She was probably right about putting me in the copper.
By the time I had to step into the dress, I was just glad the preparations were almost over.
My hair had been washed, dried, combed, and styled into an elaborate coil on the top of my head with thick curls falling down and over one shoulder.
My face had been subtly plied with cosmetics so I would not look like I wore cosmetics.
I argued that I could achieve the same effect by not wearing cosmetics but was ignored.
The bruise on my jaw had been covered with heavier cosmetics.
I couldn’t see it unless I looked very closely.
In the flickering candlelight at the banquet, it would not be visible.
The dress I wore had a high stiff collar with gold designs on it.
The body was loose and flowing all the way to my feet.
But my mother had asked a seamstress to remove the sleeves, which had been heavy and stiff like the collar, leaving my arms bare.
The style reminded me of the coats the Zulenii had worn.
“You have lovely arms,” my mother said.
I looked down at them. They looked like regular arms to me.
“Trust me,” she said.
“Again, I feel like I should point out that we are trying not to attract the Zulenii. If he sees these arms, how will he resist me?”
“You are not nearly as amusing as you think you are, Mara,” my mother said as we finally prepared to depart.
We had no need to wait for Theud. He was not a member of the court and would not be admitted.
My mother wasn’t usually admitted for formal occasions either, but being that this occasion had everything to do with me, she’d be expected to attend, just as the first queen would also attend as mother of Cameed and Morga.
I supposed Finnrey’s brother Jolen could serve as guardian for his three sisters.
He had been on patrol when Finnrey and I left but had likely returned while we were away.
We walked through the torch-lit streets, lifting our skirts as we had neared the castle and our trek became more vertical.
A few people were out and waved at us or called encouragement.
My mother smiled and nodded and waved back.
In short, she behaved very much like she was still the queen.
I was not used to anyone paying attention to me.
There were plenty of other princes and princesses, and though some said I was Papa’s favorite, I wasn’t the public’s favorite.
But I tried to smile and look happy to be walking to a banquet where I’d have to sit around all night listening to inane chatter while keeping my back straight and my head up.
At least I would finally be given something to eat.
My mother had told me I could eat later every time I had complained I was hungry today, but she’d never given me any food.
Finally, we reached the castle gates, and the honor guard opened them to admit us.
The castle doors were spread wide, and the sound of voices wafted out.
It was the light that drew me, though. Every light must have been blazing, and the tertanium gleamed, making the interior look like a sun.
I followed my mother inside, my heart starting to beat harder.
I didn’t know why I should be nervous. I’d been to the castle hundreds of times.
The king was my father. I had nothing to worry about.
But something seemed different. I could hardly catch my breath as we walked up the stairs and traversed the long gallery.
Usually, I liked to glance at the portraits of the former kings and queens.
Even my mother had a portrait in the gallery, but this time I couldn’t see anything but the light ahead.
The throne room.
The voices grew louder as we neared the door.
A guard at the door saw us and stepped inside ahead of us.
“Lady Aine and Lady Mara of Highcastle,” he announced from the raised platform where everyone entered.
It was only slightly elevated, not as high as the dais, where my father and his two wolves sat with Queen Nahla.
Still, the heads of many of the courtiers turned.
I spotted Broga near the dais, and when she saw me, she covered her mouth and whispered something to Riah.
Riah sniggered. I wanted to march over and punch Broga in the nose, but I lifted my chin and concentrated on not falling down the stairs as I entered the throne room.
Long wooden tables draped in heavy red cloth had been arranged in a U before the dais.
Small cards with our names were on plates before each chair, but no one had been seated.
“He’s not here yet,” my mother whispered.
“Who?” I whispered back.
She gave me an exasperated look. “The Zulenii prince. Your father is probably waiting to bring him in last.”
I glanced up at the raised platform and saw the guard conferring with someone on the other side of the door. “I think he’s here now.”
“Go stand somewhere where he will see you when he enters,” my mother ordered.
“Why?”
“Just do it!”
I quickly moved away from her then spotted Finnrey near a brazier by one of the tables and made my way to her.
“You look brilliant,” she said, smiling at me. “That color suits you.”
“Thank you. You look stunning—as usual.” She wore a silver and gold dress that was cut in a V in front and back, showing off her trim figure and a hint of the curve of her breast. Her long hair was in a high tail and secured with a silver coil.
The loose hair tumbled down to the middle of her back in a shiny straight cascade.
“My mother told me to stand somewhere the prince will see me.”
“Is he here?” she asked.
I nodded toward the entryway. “I think he’s about to be announced.”
The guard stepped inside. Unlike when he’d introduced my mother and me, this time he cleared his throat loudly and waited until the crowd quieted. “Presenting the honored guests of His Majesty King Wollem V. Kintle of Zulen.”
The man with the carrot-colored hair entered. His hair was still in a plait at his neck, but he’d changed coats and now wore one in a dark blue color. Like before, it did not have sleeves, and I noted the markings and drawings on his biceps and forearms.
Kintle of Zulen looked back and the other man stepped forward. He also wore a dark blue coat without sleeves. He may have had markings on his arms, but it was those on his face that drew my attention. They made him look so severe.
“Yung of the Third House of Zulen,” the guard announced.
“For a people who are supposed to be dancers and singers, they have the muscles of warriors,” Finnrey said in my ear.
I nodded my agreement as the woman entered.
She wore a deep blue coat with two cats, like the one the prince had worn earlier today.
Her hair was plaited across her forehead like a band.
“Omira of the First House of Zulen,” the guard said.