Chapter 19
The feast hall is nearly empty at supper aside from the few nobles that sit in small groups, whispering and shooting nervous glances at the other people in the room.
Orbs of light flicker over glistening roasted boars, candied root vegetables, and golden rolls of fresh bread. All to be wasted on empty chairs.
I take my usual seat at the royal family’s table, noticeably alone. The king is nowhere to be found.
Typically, my father never misses an opportunity to be gazed upon by his court.
He sips goblets of wine every evening, under the watch of at least a half-dozen King’s Guards while great men admire him, and beautiful women lust after him from afar.
I wonder if he has his own spread of wild game and stewed fruits down in the secret dungeon he’s hiding in.
Across the room, Hunter stands with his men. Under normal circumstances, I’d try to catch his eye, but the way we left things was so poor, I don’t have any right to speak to him again.
There are few things worse than being stared at by anxious people who don’t know what’s going on. I gaze into my goblet of blood-red wine, wondering if some fortuneteller could predict my fate by the way it swirls in the golden light.
“Your Highness. I’m sorry to intrude.”
I’m startled away from the goblet.
Hunter stands above me, his mouth in a thin line.
“Hunter, I …”
“I don’t enjoy being the one to tell you this, but it seems someone should.” His tone is curt, matter-of-fact.
I stand. “Alright. What is going on then? Where is everyone?”
“They’re all waiting to see where their future lies.” His eyes dart round the dim room. “How their status will change or crumble by the end of the night.”
My lips purse. I hate these palace games—speaking in riddles, holding secrets like treasure to be hoarded.
“Speak plainly,” I say.
Hunter grabs my arm a little too tightly and directs me toward a corner. For once, I don’t think anyone pays any attention to us. No one cares if two lovers hide behind statues to steal kisses. They’re all too concerned with their own welfare to care about romance now.
Once we’re tucked away in a corner, I wrench my arm out of his grip.
Hunter makes a sound of frustration. “For once, do you think you could be a little more tactful?”
“I don’t have anything to hide.”
“Secrets keep people alive.”
“Secrets get people killed.”
His mouth shuts with a snap. He knows I’m referring to Grandmother. All of her secrets, dead along with her … at least for now. By midnight, I’ll be on my way to find the answers. I’ll be rid of this place and all of its deceptions and cruelties.
Hunter sighs. “Look, I’m just trying to help you.”
I stare him down, my arms crossed at the chest.
“Elena is in labor.”
The blood drains from my face. “Now?”
He nods gravely.
Of course, I knew this day would come. I heard her say it herself in the maze this morning. I just thought I’d have more time to prepare. That I’d be long gone by now.
“That’s why everyone seems afraid.”
He nods again.
Right now, all across the palace, nobles are striking deals and breaking allegiances. Everyone is waiting to see if the new baby is a boy. Or if the king will even care if it’s a girl and replace me anyway. I wonder how many bottles of expensive wine are uncorked, at the ready for the announcement.
I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. The scar on my neck burns. My future is just as much in peril as anyone else’s. Perhaps even more so.
Hunter puts his hand on my elbow, gently this time. “I don’t think anyone else knows about our broken engagement. It would be safer for you if we appear as a united front.”
I tilt my head to get a better read on his face. “Why? Why would you care what happens to me? We’re not betrothed anymore. It would be better for you if you show that your allegiance lies elsewhere.”
“But it doesn’t.”
I stare at him; not sure I understand.
“My allegiance will never be with an illegitimate prince over the true-born heir of Llwyn.”
His loyalty has nothing to do with me personally. Not anymore, at least. I can’t blame him for that.
For a moment, I contemplate telling him what I heard in the labyrinth this morning.
That the child isn’t just illegitimate, but a lie, a deception intended to put his family in the king’s favor.
But the thought doesn’t last long. It’s not worth it.
I’ll be gone soon anyway and I am so, so tired of these palace games.
“I think …” Hunter pauses.
His hesitation worries me more than anything else. If steady, stalwart Hunter is afraid, maybe I should be too.
“I think you should prepare.”
“For what, exactly?”
He looks over my shoulder. “I’m not sure, but I have a bad feeling about all of this. I don’t trust him.”
My father, the Fox King. His sworn liege.
Behind me, I hear the unmistakable clang of metal on metal that could only mean one thing—the copper guard. I turn to see the King’s Guards marching into the feast hall. They spot us and pivot in our direction, Commander Malen at the helm. Dread coats my insides like spilled tar, sticky and thick.
Malen stops before me, his face smug. “Your Highness, you need to come with us.”
I stand my ground. “No.”
“Then we will have to take you by force,” he says. He gives Hunter a challenging look.
“She can walk herself,” Hunter says, his voice firm. Threatening.
“I will not.” I pull my shoulders back. “I’ll do as I see fit. I’m the heir to the throne.”
“We’ll see about that.” Commander Malen reaches out for my arm, but I wrench it away.
He motions to his knights and, in one swift motion, they encircle me, reaching out to grab my arms. No amount of wriggling makes them let go.
“Don’t fight, Sienna,” Hunter says, an edge of fear in his voice.
“Let me go!” I try to kick and bite, but I’m nothing when up against copper plated armor. They drag me toward the thick wooden doors.
Those who dared come to the dining hall tonight are all staring, openmouthed, as I fight with every ounce of strength I have. No doubt they’ll run to their families to report seeing the heir dragged away at supper. They’ll hardly believe their luck.
As the knights pull me through the door, Hunter scrambles after us, trying to push them off me. He lands a punch on one guard’s face, then tries to wrench me out of his grasp. Two more guards break away from the group to pull him off of me.
“Don’t interfere,” Malen tells his son, a firm hand on his chest.
“Hunter!” I call.
“Sienna!”
The wooden door of the great hall slams shut as the guards drag me away. They take me down into a servants’ hall, then twist and turn through dark corridors beyond. No one has to tell me where we’re going. I know it with every fiber of my being.
When they finally throw me into a dark cell, far beneath the palace, I’m bruised and scratched from fighting.
I scream profanities at them for several moments before I realize we’re not alone.
Near the door, a man stands facing away from me, bouncing lightly on his feet.
I don’t need to see his face to recognize him.
My father turns toward me, slowly. In his arms, he holds a sleeping newborn wrapped in a blanket of spun copper.
“I’d like you to meet my son.” Father’s voice is calm, odd. He smiles. “My new heir.”
From my spot on the floor, I watch him bounce the baby boy like a proud father. Vaguely, I wonder if he ever held me with such love and compassion. I doubt it.
“What’s his name?” I ask. My scraped knees sting and my dress is soaked through from the puddle I’m kneeling in.
Father pauses, thinking. “I’ve decided to name him Fennec, The Pale Fox.”
Only then do I notice the tuft of white blond hair on the baby’s head. Not a hint of auburn in sight.
At this moment, I finally understand what my almost-wedding truly was: an excuse to get me out of the way. To marry me off to a beloved man with no political machinations. To make room for a new heir.
And I threw it in his face.
There’s a long silence between us as I watch my father bounce the sleeping newborn. Then he slowly walks toward the doorway. He pauses to turn back to me.
“It turns out there will be a royal wedding after all,” he says.
My brain scrambles to catch up.
Father chuckles lowly. “Oh, no.” He shakes his head. “Not yours. That opportunity has passed.” He gazes down at the baby boy with a love I’ve never seen in him before. “It will be mine. To my new bride, the one who gave the kingdom a true heir. An heir worthy of the Fox Throne.”
My mouth hangs open, stunned.
Father shrugs. “I no longer have a use for you.”
The rusty door hinges screech closed as father walks away, cooing and bouncing his baby boy. My screams of rage echo behind them in the dank cell.
“Let me out!” I attack the door, kicking, pounding and scratching until my nails break and bleed.
It’s no use. After all, I already saw one of these cells last night. But, unlike Father’s hideaway, there’s nothing here to keep me company but the scrabbling of rats’ feet and the steady drip of condensation from the ceiling. This is unmistakably a forgetting place.
And I am truly, thoroughly, left for dead.