Men of Vorenia (16+) DISCONTINUED

The Karevethen

A string quartet hummed, couples drifting smoothly in a dance. Orelia paused, noticing the masked Karevethen delegate watching her. From where she sat next to her mother and father, she could see that he intended to meet her now. She cleared her throat, catching the attention of her mother. "Excuse me, mother. I wish to go dancing." she exclaimed, standing and walking toward the edge of the dance floor.

She advanced toward one of the many sets of stairs, glancing at him and holding her fan up to her face. She noticed that he had begun to advance, following her steps slowly. She took wide strides, disappearing below the stairs. Moments later, the Karevethen appeared, his body melting into the shadows. "You wish to speak with me, Your Highness?"

"I do, and I wish to know who you are."

He paused, an audible breath being sucked in through his lips. "I do not mean to be rude, my lady, but I cannot allow you to see my face."

Orelia sighed, a little disappointed. "Well, if I cannot see your face, may I know your name?"

The Karevethen paused, thinking about her new desire. "Fine, I shall tell you my family name. Maybe that will help to clue you into what my true identity is."

"That sounds excellent." Orelia beamed, her ears eagerly awaiting his name.

"Maxim."

"Maxim?" she repeated, feeling the name roll through her lips.

He hesitated again, his eyes blinking behind the gold mask. "May I, Your Majesty, know your name?"

Orelia studied him, blue eyes watching hazel. "How do I know I can trust you, Lord Maxim?"

"I am a delegate, and your ally at that. Any ill will towards you is death for me."

"Touché," she murmured, smiling at her blindness to the obvious answer. "My name is Orelia."

"Orelia. That's a lovely name, Your Majesty."

"Would it be such a scandalous thing to do if I asked Lord Maxim to dance?" Orelia smiled, biting her lip slightly as she offered.

He shook his head, sticking his gloved hand out for her to take. Orelia placed her own hand in his, but before they could return to the dance, he raised his mask and kissed her hand. Her cheeks went alight, her heart pounding viciously in her chest. His eyes watched her, a certain look of fiery desire reflecting suddenly. Orelia pushed down her own desire, studying his face. It was handsome, very handsome. His lips were on the thin side, his nose straight. Beneath his mask, which now sat perpendicular to his face, she could tell he had dark brown hair. "Why did you reveal your face to me?" Orelia murmured, a shiver running up her spine as he kissed her hand again.

"You see," he returned, his voice just as hushed as her's. "It is Karevethen tradition to keep your face concealed until you meet the person you wish to marry. I will relieve my face to only you, Your Majesty. Princess, I wish to court you, with your permission, of course."

"I," she began, unsure of how to respond. "I cannot accept your proposal, Lord Maxim. I greatly apologize."

"I understand, my lady. Do consider it though."

"I will consider it. How about this, once I ascend to the throne, I will court you."

He nodded, kissing her hand one final time before standing up again. "I look forward to that day, Miss Orelia. Now, shall we dance?"

Orelia smiled at him, accepting his offer.
*
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The banquet concluded, the drunken king escorting his fellow drunk nobles to their places of temporary residence. Orelia waited around the corner, keeping a close eye on him. She heard the thumping of his boots, the sound traveling away from her. She peeked around the corner, tracing his long cape as he rounded into another hall. Before Orelia rounded that corner, she heard a large thump, making her think that he had fallen. As she turned, she gasped in horror. Orelia was immediately sick, her body convulsing as she gagged and dry heaved.

The thump she had heard was her father, but he hadn't fallen unconscious. The king was lying on the ground, covered in his own blood. The king was dead. "Guards!" Orelia cried, rushing to her father's side as she did so.

She grabbed her father's shoulder, pulling him over. His face was deathly pale, his features contorted in horror. He was very cold to the touch, which was strange considering how he only fell a few minutes before. As she pat her father's limp body down, the Imperial Vorenian Guard rushed over. Orelia heard one of the men murmur a profanity under his breath, another gasping while others remained silent.

Her hands ran around his neck, discovering a gaping wound. As she drew her hand back, Orelia noticed the blood on her hand had a peculiar scent. The scent of mice. "Hemlock?" she mumbled, raising her hand for the guards to see. "His majesty was poisoned. Hemlock is what I believe he was poisoned with. Not only that, but it appears his throat was slashed as well."

"Your Highness, what shall we do?" a guard asked.

Orelia thought for a moment, standing up and looking out at the seven guards that stood before her. "Inform Her Majesty, the Queen, of the incident. I will look into buying the service of a private investigator."

They nodded, bowing deeply to her before leaving the scene. One guard stayed by her side, keeping a lookout for any intruders. "Your Majesty, you do realize that you are now the uncrowned Empress of Vorenia, right?"

It took a moment, but Orelia processed it as swiftly as she could. "Yes, I do realize that. I must prepare a speech for our allies as an explanation of what has happened."

"As much as I dislike it, some will suspect Your Majesty."

"You are indeed correct, sir, but I will need to reassure them that I did not have any involvement in my father's death."

The man stood silent after that, choosing not to speak rather than say anything possibly dangerous.