The Point of A Dagger

Six

Sneaking back into the castle is easy, the guards rotating shifts as the dawn begins to break. We peel off our clothes, tattered from the run through the forest. We undress quickly, letting the scraps burn in my fireplace, redressing into casual gowns. The three of us work in silence, sitting in front of a mirror doing our own hair and makeup.

I stare at my reflection, my gaze soon drifting to Nova, whose face is tight, scared. Erora is the opposite, the picture of calm and collected, as if she is preparing for tea with her mother. I land somewhere in the middle, the bags under my eyes prominent this morning.

The sun has risen fully, slowly creeping up over the treetops when we finish, ready to find some food. The castle was already buzzing as we exited my room, greeted by two guards, not Ronan, which was strange. They follow behind the three of us as I lead the twins through the halls, toward the grand entrance. As we passed, maids curtsied and guards bowed, with every smile at their crown princess reminding me of who would be in danger if there was a war. Everyone would be. Not just those at the castle, but the entirety of the army, whole towns would have the possibility of being wiped out. My heart sinks at the realization of what could happen to my people. But, the thought of letting Saunin walk over Plora again, putting up a front of weakness again, is worse than any collateral damage, if not for future generations.

"Your Majesties," Maeve says, curtsying before us, pulling me out of my mind.

"Good morning, Maeve," I say, smiling at the woman before me. Her eyes wrinkle into a smile, her hands flattening her dress as she stands. Today her curly hair is pulled into a bun of the back of her head, her curls poofing out. I remember how much my mother always wished for hear like Maeve's; dark and voluminous, full of coils. The opposite of our straight, brown hair. My stomach wrenches at the thought.

"Did you have a good night, miss?" she asks, smiling at the princesses.

"We did."

"You don't look well rested," she scolds, her hand cupping my jaw, looking at my face.

"We had a late night, Maeve."

"Humph. Well, you did not sleep in either."

"I assumed we had work to do."

"That we do, indeed. More preparations for the ball. May I meet you in the library after your breakfast?" I nod. She curtsies once more before rushing off, leaving us to continue to the dining room.

"Calm, remember?" I whisper, squeezing Nova's hand. "Everything is fine." She nods, plastering on a smile only the royals have mastered. A smile that hides everything you are going through, every emotion you are feeling, only to show the primped and perfect royal highness, fooling the Realm, into believing that peace is real, and we have it.

The dining hall is silent as we enter, the room empty beside the guards, severs, and my uncle. He is seated at the table, the head on the far end. I clear my throat and he stands, watching me as I sit at the head of the table, Nova on my right, Erora next to her. They sit after I do.

"You may gather the Prince now," I say to no one in particular. "Tell him breakfast will be served, and if he is hungry, to join us, but to bring his manners this time." A guard standing by the door nods before exiting the room.

The room blurs around me as they serve us, adding eggs, sausage, fruits, and pastries to my plate. I focus on keeping myself calm, just as I told Nova. The thought of coming face to face with someone who plays a role in my parents' death makes my stomach churn. I've lost my appetite, but still, I pick at the food.

My uncle says nothing as he eats, revealing no hints as to what happened yesterday, the fact that I treated him like a child, sending him to his room with his dinner. My father had always told me that when it would be my turn to take the crown, I needed to show my power early, gaining the respect from those who do not like change. My uncle doesn't so much as look up as my gaze burns into him. I know he can feel it, though, the flowers in the table slowly wilting. With a single thought, I send them back into full bloom, casing my uncle's grip on his utensils to tighten. I let a small smile tug at my lips before returning to my plate.