A Royal Ruse

Chapter 9

Cruel Intentions

"Princess Nara, Welcome to Haddon. We are honored to have you as our guest." King Rahnen smiled at the princess, dozens of micro-folds rippling across his crepey face.

Zita hated that her opinion of the King of Haddon had been formed long before she ever laid eyes on him. Her father spoke of him in the most unflattering terms and she had simply thought he was exaggerating, as he was wont to do. But one look at King Rahnen's receding chin coupled with his wide-set, protruding eyes and, regrettably, Zita could see why he was referred to as 'The Toad King' within the walls of her palace.

King Rahnen wasn't altogether unattractive. His features, although slightly amphibious, had a cute doughy quality. He also had an outreaching warm that instantly put Zita at ease. His greeting alone had miraculously tempered the thrumming in Zita's chest.

"The honor is mine, Your Majesty." Zita dipped into a bow. Her eyes bounced from the king to Queen Tatiana who stood next to him, her arm resting comfortably in the crook of his.

The difference between the two of them was striking. Queen Tatiana's sleek-faced beauty stood starkly against the softness of her husband's appearance.

"Princess Nara," the Queen said, lowering her head to the princess. She wore no jewelry save for a thin gold band haloing her thick black hair that had been slicked back into a severe knot at the nape of her neck.

"Please allow me to introduce our sons, Princes Adair and Oziakel."

Two terracotta boys stepped forward. Tall and dashing, they bowed their wreathed heads to the princess. They placed their hands on the Haddonite crest emblazoned on the left breast of their tunic in, what Zita gathered was, a gesture of respect before taking their seat on either side of her.

The princess spent the rest of the evening sandwiched between the two princes whose temperaments could not have been more different. Oziakel, the younger of the two, was a delight; bursting with a gangly pubescent charm. Tight copper-tinged coils sprung from his head and bounced around his round, open face in a way as frenetic as his manner of speaking. The princess figured he must have taken after his father who was also quite lively, which made her suspect he was younger than the creases on his face would have one believe.

While Adair, on the other hand, was as sour as spoilt milk. His face, which had hardened into a permanent scowl, immediately slumped against his fisted hand the second he sat down. Not even a warning look from the queen could fix his soiled attitude. He refused to speak to anyone but the words that did manage to escape his clamped jaw sounded gnarled and slightly venomous. As a result, the princess spent the night talking to Oziakel.

"I hope you like surprises!" The younger prince said after slurping up the last of the chilled broth they had been served for starters.

"I've grown to be wary of them lately," Zita said, allowing a servant to take her hardly-touched bowl of brown liquid away from the table. Zita's experience with Haddonite cuisine was limited but both things she had consumed that evening tasted like pickling juice.

"You'll love this one, I promise." Prince Oziakel nudged Zita's arm as a woman took to the center of the room. His knee bobbed up and down as if his heel was bouncing on a spring.

"We all call her the honey-voiced harbinger," he whispered to Zita as the singer's syrupy notes began to trill through the air. "She's always the opening act at these sorts of events, but a far more spectacular act always follows after."

Zita remembered Sahali mentioning that the royal family always organizes impressive entertainment for the gala.

"I heard last year you had contortionists and a hoop-jumping tiger. I can't imagine you could top that."