The Princess's Servant

47. The Dinner

"After eighteen years, someone finally told her."

Those words still echoed in Holden's skull as he sat on the cold, wet floor of his cell.

And just like that, everything made sense.

Sense. Why did it all make sense?

Sybil knew about the wedding. Which meant... She was being nice to him. Because...

Because what? How did Sybil knowing change anything?

Because she knew who Holden really was, and she wanted to earn his favor.

No. If she ever discovered his true identity (and he would tell her some day, he promised himself), Holden was certain she would have a much more pronounced reaction. The prince smiled at the thought.

No. She was being nice because... Because he's Wardian, he thought. Because more than being Wardian, he's from the Wardian royal palace. Because she thinks he's Prince Holden's servant, and she wants to curry favor with him so he'll give his former master a good report when he 'sees' him again.

This was good, Holden thought. This was very good.

And for the first time since before he'd met her, Holden looked forward to seeing the princess.

*****

Sybil laid on her bed with her head and locks dangling over the side of it. She stared out her window upside-down as she clutched the letter to her heart with both hands. It rose and fell with her breath.

The Wardian had been right — the room had been a trap. But not of the sort he had imagined. Lucky for both of them, he hadn't fallen for it, she told herself. Her fingers gripped the letter a little tighter.

She would marry him soon, Prince Holden. Prince Holden... And what would become of her then? Sybil had never been to Ward, and knew very little of it — other than that the emperor was a heartless imperialist who wished to see her kingdom conquered. How would she change when she went over there? What shape would her marriage take? Would she have to have children? Could she have children with that man? Sybil shuttered at the thought and tried to think on anything else.

It would be okay, she told herself. She had been preparing her whole life for this moment. She knew she had only officially been told about the arrangement one day back, but this was her second time hearing it. The first time she had heard it, she was young, and scared, and had wanted to pretend it hadn't happened. She had told herself it had been a bad dream. But although the entire palace (including Sybil) had spent the last eighteen years lying to her by omission, some silenced part of her had always known this day would come. She only wished she could have stayed in the dream a little longer.

Prince Holden... Prince Holden...

She sat up in her bed. She prayed he was like his letters said. Doting. Devoted. Malleable. Who knew? She told herself. This could be a good thing.

Unlikely. But possible. Sybil looked at the letter in her hands. She looked at the seal.

Prince Holden... Prince Holden... Prince Holden...

*****

When Prince Holden received the invite for dinner, he couldn't say he was surprised. It was just like Sybil to summon him out after a fight, hoping to pick at his wounds. He accepted her call with pleasure.

Dinner was in a great stone room with candle chandeliers and a roaring fire. Sybil was seated at another dark wood table that was far longer than it was wide. Behind the princess were long gilded windows that held oceans of stars.