The feeling of being ill never once ceases. Standing properly has become a chore, and the air in my lungs is at a minimum. On the outside, I look poise. My posture is well done, and there isn't a single wrinkle in my dress. My hat adorns the fabric of my dress, and my gloves and parasol meet the occasion. Despite this, I am screaming on the inside.
"Laurance, I can't do this."
Father sent us outside first, wishing to finish up the last bit of details to his workload before he would move onto the next topic at hand. Laurance places his hand on my shoulder, stepping in front of me. He blocks me from the view before us, my parasol creating shade from the back.
"I can't face him again."
"You can, and you will," he says, eyeing me. He wasn't fond of this day either, the closer it came. In three days time, I will be eighteen. "Despite what he did to you. Despite his perception of you. That does not define you. If I acted on my own emotions, there would be a war. Only a true fool would do that."
"Perhaps I am a fool."
"Nonsense. You are my sister." His eyes cast forward when there's movement when the doors. Father will be standing beside Laurance shortly. "Cadenza will be here soon with the babe. I'm sure you'll find pleasure in that."
My lips curve up into the smallest of smiles. Father comes out from behind the doors and stands near Laurance, adjusting his clothing before glancing down the small line of three.
"It's wonderful to see you so excited for your fiancé to visit," he says, unaware I am only smiling for my sister and her newly found family. "It gives me little worries about the future. Certainly surpasses the worries I had during breakfast."
I try to maintain the smile on my face when I turn to him, nodding my head. Breakfast was quiet from my dread. I picked at my food and quickly found it unappetizing. Father assumed it was nerves, but it most certainly was dread.
"She's a Zvahl, father," Laurance states, looking rather proud when his posture straightens. "There's little that needs to be worried about. She's as strong as the rest of us."
"Ah." Father stops Laurance with the raising of a single finger. Laurance's eyebrow raises in slight confusion, but father dismisses him. "She'll be a Ro'meave in no time."
I don't believe I have ever had to swallow bile before, but there is a first for everything, I suppose. Laurance offers me his arm, glancing down at me through a side glance. I timidly lift my head, mouth opening ever so slightly. Nothing comes out, and it shuts into a slight smile. Slowly, I wrap my arm around his, inching closer to his stance.
I've always taken comfort in Laurance. I've felt he would do me no harm, and he hasn't to this day. He's my confidant, and I do not know what I will do without him when we are separated in the near future. He will be king and have a family of his own to look after. I will be trapped in O'Khasis, forced to have a babe on my hip because there is nothing else I could possibly do. Nothing else I should be doing.
A carriage nears, and the bile returns.
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
"Wouldn't it be wise to invite Her Majesty and Her Royal Highness to tea?"
If Cadenza had known of the recent events with that family, I would've taken this as a jest she has thrown my way. But because I know my sister too well with her proper ways, I know she speaks nothing but formality.
"You jest," I say, reaching for my gloves and holding them together in my grasp. "They must be tired. They have taken such a long trip from O'Khasis. I wanted nothing else but rest and a hot meal when I returned."
Cadenza nearly walks in front of me, looking into my mirror to adjust a hairpin her lady had loosely applied. She glances my way, disapprovingly, before she places it back in once more. "Nonsense," she corrects. "Her Majesty had requested a walk in the garden, and Her Highness a proper walkthrough of our corridors."
I falter in my stance, relying on the vanity to keep me steady. Cadenza looks at me questionably on my sudden loss of balance, but shakes her head. She threatens me that she'll deliver an invitation by my supposed hand if I do not do it myself.
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
The air feels heavy in the garden. The flowers have lost their smell. They're no longer vibrant. The garden is becoming my least favorite aspect of home. The queen is oblivious to what has happened. And if she notices the change between the princess and I, she does not dare quote it.
Even Cadenza has noticed the change in atmosphere as she perks small talk between herself and the queen, leaving me to my wallowing silence. I can feel the princess's gaze on me, but I haven't brought myself to look in her direction.
The slightest gaze at her or Garroth makes me feel ill. The idea of the prince makes me feel as though I cannot stand. My head will hurt, and my stomach will tumble.
"My sons are resting," the queen says, lifting her gaze up from her cup of tea. "You've made quite the impression on them. My Garroth and Vylad both wish for you to request a meeting with them."
