Stolen Princess

26. What Alek Knew First

"You look pale," Isobel says with a frown as she works at my hair. She's staring at me in the mirror, and I rouse myself once more from my daydreaming to answer her.

"I'm fine, really," I tell her with a smile. Her lips twist in suspicion, and then she goes back to braid a tiny crown through my hair.

"You're lucky that horrid black oil even came out before tonight..." she mutters and I shrug in agreement, too tired for anything else.

I don't know how long it took them to get me back unseen, but when I finally woke up, it was nearly nightfall and Isobel was bustling around my room itching to get ready for the final feast.

"Have you decided who you'll award your champion points?" she asks, her voice a little too high. I know she's more interested than she's letting on.

"I have."

"It's the Orcs, isn't it?" she asks, her eyes meeting mine in the mirror, "So you'll be able to win?"

"Of course," I answer with a small smile. I haven't told anyone my plan... and I won't until it's been announced. I don't know if Isobel would try and talk me out of it, but I don't have the energy to argue... and I've already made my decision. Naatan's hands are well worth the price.

"There, all done!" Isobel chirps brightly, patting my hair one last time. I thank her, and together we move towards the sounds of the feast.

Sosha is at my heels again, tonight she's wearing a matching violet colored velvet cape that attaches to each of her armored shoulders with a symbol of a spiral. I find it curious, but I doubt she'd tell me what it means if I asked.

The Great hall smells of rich meats, sweet cakes and spiced mead. It's warm and bright and full of noise... the way you'd imagine a holiday, or a wedding celebration.

Instead, I stand on the edge of my own doom. With these points I will give Alek the lead he might've lost when I tossed that egg in the waterfall today. I have to win the next trial. I have to break whatever magic is helping him along.

"Come... you'll have to announce the winner soon," Isobel tells me, she takes my hand and together we weave through the crowd of dancing and laughter.

My eyes scan the room for my Orcs and I find them at the usual place, scowling at one another intermittently, separate and away from the rest of the humans.

I immediately want to go with them, to find some peace that I never hoped for in these kinds of things until they arrived. Instead, we reach the raised table and Isobel nudges me up the steps.

I lock eyes on my father where he sits at his chair... at the table I'm still not invited to, eating with several of his advisors and some of Sothia's favorite courtiers. I bow deeply, pulling wide the skirt of my ice blue gown, another choice of Isobel's.

"Wrenifred," my father acknowledges me and I'm allowed to rise once more, "Come close," he orders.

"I've made my choice of champion," I explain, and I see apprehension in his face as he scans mine. I know he's afraid I'll choose Oren, he never used to be afraid of me at all until I found my place with the Orcs. I wonder if I'll make him regret ever having this tournament in the first place. I lift my chin and hope for the best.

"And?" the king asks in a clipped tone, though he's quiet about it, "I will announce it promptly... do not embarrass us now, Wrenifred."

"Aleksander Blackwater is my chosen champion," I say it in a thick murmur, as bile rises to the back of my throat.

My hands shake, my skin is clammy, but I already know there's no going back. Not since I called Alek out in front of everyone, not since he realized who I was.