Of Whispers and Daggers ✓ [TLRQ #2]

Chapter 45.1 - Aster

I tried to talk Selenia out of an elaborate dinner. It's been nearly a month since the estimation of less than two-months' rations remaining in the castle. We still don't know when reinforcements are going to arrive—or why my vision says that's a bad thing. Supposedly, Aselle has sent orders for part of her army to go assist Solitaena's people, and I have a suspicion that might have less to do with altruism and more to do with Solitaena's out-of-character silence at the coronation. Someone finally got the news out of Riletta that she sent orders to her people weeks ago, whose only response was that they "felt it was better if they didn't." Emmavinne, the High Lady of Agrí, and Misanette and Valaecití, the High Ladies of the Peninsula, say their men are organizing to march, but with their spread-out populations, it could take up to another two weeks for them to start marching.

This seige could last a lot longer than the remaining month we have.

Despite my protests to Selenia, I slide into my chair at her side in the glittering dining hall. To my left, Raenette Riszev sits around the corner, Solus on the other side of her, and then Eriznic Shava. Reyan sits on Selenia's right, and around his corner is Riszev's aunt.

Selenia turns her head to me with a smile pasted on, but whispers, "Where's your staff, Prince?"

I look at her surprised, and add a small laugh to disguise it for amusement to whomever might be watching. I'm struck by how fake it is, just like I criticized Mother and Father for being at the dinner before I left.

I miss them.

"I thought it would be unwieldy to carry to dinner." I smile at her.

She hms and turns away.

"Shava says you fulfilled a great prophecy today." Riszev leans toward me. "You must be very honored."

Caught slightly off-guard, I regard her for a moment. "It is a great honor. I hope I can live up to it before we leave." I offer a small smile and don't bother trying to hide the sadness in my eyes.

Sympathy softens her features. "It is a terrible thing to be homesick."

I want to protest that I haven't left yet, but I almost feel like that's her point. I'm already regretting being gone, and it's nowhere near time. Who knows what might come to pass until then.

With everyone settled into their seats, the Queen raises her glass, and all go silent.

"Tonight," she says, "we celebrate the coronation of my youngest brother, the great Prince Astraeus Jacqobi S'Pierre S'Díane, the Chosen Second Son of the Court of Morineaux!" Her smile is wide, but even under the pretense of politics, such a high address of me is unnecessary. It's all I can do to offer a polite smile under the Ladies' stares rather than squirm in my seat. This is beyond milking the staff's activation.

She continues. "Tonight, we step into a new era—one lighted by the greatest wizard since Prince Xíeme! Darkness may have invaded our castle, but we will push that darkness back. Do not be afraid.