Dark & Cold (FREE TRIAL!) [YA Fiction/Royalty/Romance] (D&C Series Book #1)

Chapter Two: Rumors of War

   ERICIA SLOWS THE long lacy sleeves of her peachy evening gown over her shoulders and adjusts the bust of the dress over her chest. She isn't a fan of wearing fitted dresses –especially when she has open wounds that are agitated by the uncomfortable fabric regardless of them being dressed, but her mother insisted that she should make more of an effort for tonight's dinner than she usually would.

When Ericia is ready, she slips into a pair of low heels. No one would be seeing her feet under the long mermaid tail of the dress anyway. After this, she calls her maids in and they begin the process of applying makeup onto her face and styling her hair into a beautiful up-do.

Ericia strolls through the corridors in silence, her maids trailing loosely behind her. She sighs, clasping her hands together and resting them just under her waistband with graceful dignity as she continues walking. She reaches the grand dining room, hearing the roaring laughter of her father bouncing from wall to wall –Prince Rowan must have said a joke.

Ericia sucks in a breath and pulls herself together, walking into the room. King Charles doesn't end his fit of laughter when he spots her. Ericia looks among the only people in the room –King Charles, Queen Olivia and Prince Rowan, who were accompanied by one other person –a person Ericia could easily identify as a familiar Lystotian messenger.

Ericia bows. Rowan stands and walks towards her, offering her a bright smile.

"You're just in time," he says, extending a hand, the other behind his back. "Your father and I have only begun our discussion. I sense that dinner will be promising."

Ericia takes Rowan's hand, being guided to the seat just opposite to him at the long, rectangular dinner table.

Dinner passes slowly –too slowly for Ericia. She doesn't poke at her food or shift in her seat, nor does she say anything out of the character of a perfect princess. She eats as though she is strong enough to hold her four course meal, but she would only throw it all up before bed later. She smiles as though she has never known sadness, but she would only be left restless and depressed with red, swollen eyes, later.

Later, she would say to herself, over and over again. Later. Later. Later.

"If I may, Your Majesty," Prince Rowan says to King Charles, suddenly drawing the attention of the Princess who seemed distant-minded for a moment. "Is it too much to request a private stroll after dinner with the lovely Princess?"

King Charles studies Rowan with an indecipherable expression plastered over his face for only moments before he grins. "Oh, Rowan, you didn't have to ask." Charles laughs as he turns to Olivia, "I like him, Olivia. He's quite old-fashioned unlike many of the youth of today."

"I feel more comfortable having the permission of my elders. I do believe that what elders think should have a tremendous amount of influence on the growing and modernizing society. The once social 'quacks' are now geniuses developing technology with electricity or integrating it into our kingdom lives having had the permission of elders blessing them faith and trust –and, on occasion, I dare say some sizeable financial contributions as well. The average person's life is beginning to seem much easier thanks to the opportunity given to technology advancement. Perhaps one day we will follow the rest of the world, using fewer carriages and more cars. Our elders have established such great kingdoms and societies and what a waste it would be of time and energy to watch it all fall at the fault of youth who strive for nothing or believe they can rely on themselves."