Book 1: Brutality

Pride

6

"I am not proud, but I m happy; and happiness blinds, I think, more than pride." - Alexandre Dumas

~Trigger Warning~

After Naela's little talk, I wasn't exactly in the mood for a ball, especially not at the royal palace. But, as ever, I have no choice or say in the matter.

"What's going on in here?" Naela pops her head into my room, where I am delaying getting dressed. "Xara, why aren't you ready yet?"

I can't meet her eyes, so I shrug.

"She's refusing to get dressed." Tinuiel says, sounding harassed.

"Xara!" Naela's voice takes on a dangerous timber. "Stop being ridiculous. You have to attend the ball. Get dressed."

"What's going on?" Ari wanders down the hall, resplendent in her sunlight-on-leaves dress. She peers in at me. "What's the matter with you?"

I can't look at her either. "I don't want to go," I mumble.

"Oh, you're such a weakling. You want the Court to learn that you're afraid of one ball? Here, I'll help." She and Naela both descend on me, and, with Tinuiel's assistance, I'm forced into my gown in no time.

I do look good. In the mirror, I see a dark-eyed girl with elaborately worked dark hair, arrayed in silver-embroidered twilight cloth, silver and sapphires gleaming in my ears, wrists, neck and in my hair. The only thing missing is a smile and maybe a bit more sparkle in my eyes. I'm going to a ball, I should be happy.

But I'm sick and tired of pretending.

Naela starts hustling us down to the waiting carriage. Tinuiel kisses me on the forehead, lips like rough bark. "Have a good time, Miss Xara," she says, "remember to enjoy yourself!"

I managed to give her a small smile and turned to follow Naela out.

Down by the front entrance, the carriage is already waiting with Myriil and Keya standing by it. Myriil gives me an irate look while Keya sneaks me a small smirk. She likes it when any of us makes trouble for Myriil.

"Well, at least you're here," Myriil growls. "In you get."

All throughout the carriage ride, I keep my head down, looking out the window through the corner of my eye. The lights of the the fey flash through the trees, there are squeals of laughter and sudden excited scurries through the underbrush. A royal ball brings out everyone, even the common faeries.

I see a figure standing by the roadside and turn my head to look at it fully. It's a tree goblin, one of the wild fey, decked out with feathers and strings of beads. His crest of stiff, spiky hairs stands high and his prehensile tail weaves lazily around his ankles. He gives me a salute as we go by and I look away again.

The royal palace is just up ahead, shining brighter than any mortal building with the moonlit ocean just beyond it and the lights of the mortal world beyond that. I find myself staring at those lights as we get out of the coach, it all seems so unreal. The royal ballroom of the High Court is a marvellous ever-changing place.

Tonight, it's a tropical rain forest with spices floating in the air, liana vines hanging from bright green trees and heavy flowers breathing dizzying perfume. A warm stream provides a venue for the water fey who coo and hold up clawed hands for cups of wine. Courtiers drift in their incomparable gowns and suits, talking and eating elegant snacks before the dancing starts.

King Elbauthin sits on a living throne blooming with flowers, talking to one of his senior courtiers. Led by Myriil, we all march up to make our bows and curtsies.

"Ah, General," the King says. He runs a flat, uninterested glance over us. "And your lovely daughters, I see"

Straightening from my curtsy, I look around apprehensively for Barathalion but he's not here right now — just the middle prince, Deryth, hovering around the King as always. "They're growing up," Deryth says to Myriil. "I expect you'll be wanting to get them married soon." He hands his father a glass of wine.

Elbauthin takes it with a gesture that speaks of utter ennui. He looks both uninterested and tired. "Yes, I expect you will, General."

"Naturally, Your Majesty," Myriil's eyes flick between Deryth and Keya, who utterly ignore one another.

"And then I expect they'll make you a grandfather," Elbauthin says, a hint of malice entering his voice. He gives Deryth a sidelong, vicious look. "Not like my sons, barren as iron sticks, the lot of them. Not a single child off any of them and it's not for their lack of trying."

The courtiers titter as Deryth goes white with mortification. Elbauthin's been doing this more and more; making nasty digs about his three sons' lack of an offspring. You can hear his anger and disappointment in every syllable and he has his reasons. If none of the Cormyth princes cannot produce an heir, the royal line stands in danger of losing the throne.

Faerie can't risk having a King without an heir but the possibility seems remote because none of the princes, in six hundred years, had fathered a child and as Elbauthin said, it's not for their lack of trying. Part of me feels sorry for Deryth but I'm mostly too busy watching out for Barathalion to care about Deryth's troubles.

We made out goodbyes and stepped away. Myriil immediately starts up a conversation with another redcap while Naela stops to talk to a court lady. Keya nibbles on nuts, looking bored and Ari glances around. She'd never admit it but I know she's looking for Curuion.

She hates his guts, and with reason, but I sometimes think she enjoys sparring with him a little too much because she certainly seems to seek out their confrontations. But, it's the palace schoolteacher, Nardual, who finds Ari, wandering up with an amiable smile. "Hello, Miss Ari," he says warmly, Ari's one of his favourite student. "Care to look at the stars with me later?"

"Certainly, Master Nardual," she says politely, as she's bound to. He's one of the greatest teachers in Faerie, while she's a human girl; she has to say yes. Besides, she likes him. "Seen anything interesting in the sky lately?"

"Oh, yes, just last night," he takes a drink from his glass. "There was a falling star across the constellation of the fruiting tree and the fruits turned bright red."

This captures even Keya's attention. "But that means-"

~Fun Fact~

The first person convicted of speeding was going eight mph (13 Km/h).

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