Between the Veil and Crown

Arvek 16

            It was unnatural how everything went back to its normal state after he returned with King Masitof. While it was not a long trip, it should have been long enough -and abrupt enough, he felt- that something was disturbed in the way things went.

However, everyone treated it like he had just gone for a day's trip around the city. Instead, all the attention went into the preparations for the party from Phrompt, not just in making sure the guests were well accommodated, but also that they had as little interaction as possible with anyone outside of the castle. Rasinod, the castle healer, was forced to surreptitiously get large quantities of medical supplies to ensure the public was not alarmed, and believed the party from Phrompt were indeed infected instead of realizing that they were taking precautionary measures.

Things had not been resolved between Masitof and Arvek, and the bustling atmosphere of the castle did not help the relationship. When Arvek was no longer needed for his duties as prince, he found himself more often than not in the company of his mother or Cor, the only two in the castle who seemed to acknowledge his impromptu quest. Even though Arvek did not return with Selim, Niara made sure to express her gratitude several times for his attempt.

The queen had adopted an air of weariness since Arvek had left. To the public, she did everything in her power to maintain the grace and control of a queen. In private, her shoulders drooped, her head hung, and the life had left her eyes.

If there was something more that he could do, if there was something that he could say, Arvek would've done it in a heartbeat. Seeing her like that made his heart twist in pain, made worse by the fact that he knew the only way her own pain could be eased was in the assurance that Selim was safe.

And who knew how long that would take? Who could say how well the instructions to the Veil would be followed?

He was not allowed to ponder this question for long, as the party arrived within the week of his return.

When the party's arrival to the city was announced, Arvek, his younger brothers, and Niara went to watch their procession through streets from the palace's balcony overlooking the city. It was hard to miss them, as they had quite a colorful display that clashed with the streets, as well as banners with Phrompt's crest, lest there be any mistaking this decadently dressed parade was somehow from Harlofelp. Had Arvek been in a lighter mood, he may have considered it quite humorous.

"I always heard that they put their horses in dresses," Veran remarked, leaning over the balcony guard, his hand propping up his chin. "I never thought it was actually true. But even after seeing it with my own eyes, I still don't think it's true. It looks quite ridiculous."

"I would hope that you would remember your manners well enough not to say such things in their presence," Niara said, a hint of a warning in her tone.

Veran looked affronted. "Of I wouldn't. But you can't tell me you're not thinking that they look like their horses were invited to a ball."

Well, it wasn't something Arvek was going to admit. Phrompt had covered their horses, with the exception of the team pulling the carriage, with long flowing cloaks, some of even going up the neck and covering the horses' heads like masks. Fitting for a masquerade ball to be sure. But as far as Arvek was aware, no one was actually planning on having a masquerade ball while the Phrompt party was visiting.

"Just like their horses, they have their princess well hidden," Cor noted, as the carriage came closer and they saw that all the windows were covered by curtains. In the time they watched, the curtains did not even flutter once to indicate that the princess was even the slightest curious in where she was headed.

"It is not so important to see her now," Niara remined him. "We will see her in only a few moments."

When the carriage disappeared from view, Arvek departed his family and headed to greet the arrivals. Ignoring the look his father gave him as he entered the entrance hall, he assumed his position -arms folded behind his back, torso straight.

First entered the herald, announcing the arrival of King Tyrovo of Phrompt, and his daughter Princess Rovyna.

Next came a handful of guards, positioning themselves symmetrically to the sides so the king and princess could walk down the middle.

Then came the awaited two themselves.

King Tyrovo hobbled in, doubled over with a cane in one hand and the other clutching his daughter's arm. The metal chain that held his robe in place appeared to weigh him down, swinging happily in the pull of gravity. Wispy white hair appeared as though it at some point that day had been carefully groomed, but now stuck in every direction and generally doing whatever it pleased. The king's wrinkled face had a permanent frown, eyebrows so close together he seemed to have unibrow hanging over two once dark eyes that knew no other expression but a glare.

Next to his hobble and clunking as the cane hit the ground with every step glided the Princess Rovyna. She stood a head taller than her father if he stood straight, her chin lifted in the air. Black hair with copper highlights was swept back into a braided bun, held in place by her tiara. Her eyes watched Masitof and Arvek carefully, but her expression was otherwise unreadable.

They came to a stop when they were within a few feet of the king and prince of Harlofelp.

After a brief pause the four exchanged the proper bows, or in the case of Rovyna, curtsy.

"Welcome to Harlofelp," Masitof said, when he had lifted his head. He spread his hands in welcome, but they only parted so far. "I hope that your journey here was not too difficult."

"It would have been better if the roads were smoother," Tyrovo said crossly. His voice was a curious noise. It sounded as though a mouse was attempting to roar. "I might not be as young as I used to be, but a young man could break his neck out there!"

Arvek bit back the response he wanted to give upon hearing rather unfair criticism of his kingdom.

Rovyna made no reaction to her father's criticism, the expression the same as when she entered.

Masitof clenched his jaw before continuing to greet his guests. "That is unfortunate to hear," he said. "I hope your stay here will not be as rocky as the road."

"We'll see about that," Tyrovo muttered under his breath. He took a glance around the entrance hall. Arvek could see the very negative things coming to the king's mind to say.

Apparently, so did Rovyna. Before her father could make mention of his surroundings, she said, "Forgive me for being so forward and skipping several formalities, but I am afraid the trip here has quite tired me out. Would it be too much for me to ask if we could be shown somewhere to rest until the evening meal?" Her tone was smooth and diplomatic, betraying no hint of emotion.

Masitof stepped to the side, gesturing her onward. "The servants will show you to your rooms," he said, matching her tone.

She dipped into another gracefully curtsy before striding forth, chin still held high. Her father stumbled a couple of steps beside her, but was too weak to actually hold her back and too reluctant to let go of her. Arvek caught him grumbling something as they passed, but missed what he said. As Rovyna glided by, the two of them exchanged a glance with guarded curiosity.

So this was who he was expected to marry. Though there was little to glean from their brief encounter, at the very least, she knew how to keep her father in check.

For now, that was.