FAKING ROYALTY [rewrite]

chapter sixteen

There were few stops on the way to O'Khasis. The stops were meant for the horses to have a break, but we took those times of stillness to our advantage to stretch out our legs. While the horses grew tired, my body became stiff.

I've never travelled outside of Meteli. I've been everywhere in Meteli, but I've never stepped out of it. There was never a need to. There was never the need to travel all the way to Phoenix Drop or even to take the further travel to Brightport. Traveling to O'Khasis seems so strange to me.

I've seen a few maps depicting where everything is. If I thought O'Khasis was far from Meteli, I'd certainly hate to see how far of a travel it'd take for Scaleswind.

But now we've arrived. The outdoors are weeping for the loss of a beloved prince. I've never heard much about Zane. I don't think I've learned anything except for him being the second born born.

I've heard so much about Vylad and even Garroth at times, but Zane rarely comes up in conversation. When he does, it's vague and never lasts long.

I look past the curtain in the carriage, trying not to seem like I'm being sneaky and trying to steal glances. I've never met King Garte or Queen Zianna. We never crossed paths at the ball. I barely even spoke to the other two brothers.

"Watch what you say around the king," Alex whispers, looking at warningly. "He'll take what you say and run with it. Father will not be pleased if something slips that shouldn't have."

I shut what was open of the curtain and sit back in my seat. My hands rest in my lap as I remain rather timid. That didn't give me any confidence whatsoever.

The carriage door opens and a hand pops into view. Alex stands from her position and reaches for it, stepping down into the solid ground below us. I reenact her movements, trying to be as poised as possible. I look up to be face to face to a family in mourning black.

I hold in any possibly noises that could've slipped from my lips and stand still. Suddenly I wish Hayden or Laurance was here just so they could do any necessary talking. Though, I know if they were here they would've made the carriage ride incredibly awkward.

Greetings are made, and I remain silent unless spoken too. That's one lesson that most certainly has stuck to me even if it wasn't written in my books. That's a private lesson from King Hayden himself on the very first day at the breakfast table.

I smooth down the black fabric of my dress and glance over to Alex as we begin to dress. When I was in the carriage, I was terrified of introducing myself to the royal family. But because of Alex's warning, I'm afraid of even breathing too loud.

The Queen seems lovely. She appears to be gentle in loving as she walks. Her fragile state brings me great sadness as she appears she'd like to fall onto her knees with each step she takes. This death most certainly has struck her hard.

But the king, he deeply terrifies me. He gives off a horrid aura I wish to avoid at all costs. I wonder if he terrifies his own children.

We've been given permission to rest until dinner time, but I'm restlessly moving in my bed. My petticoats and stay are discarded on the back of a nearby chair while my shoes are Irene knows where. My dressing coat is near, but I dare not wear it here unless I'm alone in the comforts of my chamber.

I was fatigued in the carriage, but now I can't seem to close my eyes long enough to let sleep overcome me. I cannot understand why this is the case.

I decide to lay in bed for a few hours. I don't wish to call for a servant to dress me only to wander aimlessly through the palace, not finding anything to do because I can't pinpoint where I am. I cannot even remember which set of doors belong to my chambers in this hallway.

When restlessness takes over me, I reach for my dressing gown and place it over my shift. I don't even wish for my stays. Sitting in a nearby chair I can see the outdoors. Their garden is very beautiful and seems to go on for miles on end. I've managed to find myself walking in front of a window looking out.

The chamber doors open to foreign voices. They squeak at me before rushing over.

"Your highness, you must wash up before dinner," one voice says, rummaging through my belongings before they have found what they intended to find. I shake my head at their frantic state. "A good impression after a nice rest will do wonders for the royal family."

I wish I would've gotten rest. It sounds wonderful.