A Royal Ruse

Chapter 10

The Breakfast and The Bathhouse

"Her majesty has requested your presence at breakfast."

A maidservant stood at the entrance of the doorway, waiting to escort the princess to the royal dining room. Thanks to Sahali, who had anticipated the early morning invitation, Zita was already dressed. She popped up from her seat to follow the brisk maidservant.

The previous night was the first time Zita had used the main hallways to navigate the royal household. She was so riddled with nerves that she had barely paid attention to the painstaking detail braided into each element of decor.

A fine latticework of dark wood and geometric motifs sprawled across the ceiling. Vases and hanging baskets choking with Fuchsia clung to the limestone walls that had been buffed to a shine. Light tinkled through the halls like bells, announcing the undeniable presence of day.

The slight scent of vanilla and spices danced up Zita's nostrils as the maidservant finally reached her destination. She gave two sturdy raps on an engraved wooden door. It split and a chorus of sunlight peeled through the room and hit Zita in the eyes. The royal family sat gathered around a mahogany table.

"Your Highness, it's our pleasure to have you join us for breakfast" the king gestured from the head of the table for the princess to take a seat.

Zita obliged, taking a seat next to Prince Oziakel. She sat directly across from Prince Adair who was skinning an apple with a tiny dagger. Intense concentration etched across his face as ringlets of the fruit's rind spiraled down to his plate like a limp serpent.

"Morning," the younger prince chirped while the elder, being too wrapped up in the fruit-shaving process, failed to acknowledge her presence.

Zita smiled at the younger prince, hmphed in the direction of the elder and then turned her attention to a more important matter: breakfast. She piled warm bread rolls, fruit, pastries, and preserves onto her plate and began tucking in with relish.

"Did you enjoy last night, Your Highness?" The queen asked, raising a steaming cup of tea to her lips.

Zita nodded her reply, her teeth gnashing away at the bite of pear pastry in her mouth.

After the princess had regained her composure in the privy chamber the previous night, she had returned to the table a significantly improved woman. Her mood had been refreshed and she resolved to enjoy the night's festivities. The surly prince ceased to exist to her. 

A certain handsome stranger also influenced her new attitude towards the evening. She didn't speak to him for the rest of the night but she did spot him from across the room. She snuck a few covert glimpses towards his table. And whenever she did, she found a pair of dreamy eyes stealing  glances straight back.

"I had a wonderful night. The entertainment was amazing. In particular, the fire-breathing dancers." The princess gushed.

"Oh yes. Aren't they a wonder? Their act tours across the realm. I simply had to have them for the gala." The queen sipped her tea.

Only in the silence could Zita detect the hint of static in the air. A distinct undercurrent of unease rippled throughout the room from its seething source: Prince Adair.
Nothing had changed since the previous night. The elder prince was still wearing his discontent like a repugnant cologne. He was tightlipped for now but if last night was anything to go by, he could rain fury at any moment that pleased him.

"What about you, Ade? What was your favorite part?" the king asked his eldest son.

Adair's jaw pulsed. He shrugged. "The food was better than last year."