Unclaimed

Chapter Three- #@&%!

Silently sitting in my seat just before the fan fare begins.

My mother turns to me eyes shining gold and wide with anger.

"Where in Nyx's name have you been?" She growls.

"The bathroom." I reply calmly.

The sound of the trumpets draw the attention of the whole room. All heads snapping to the doors, I thought maybe half the room got whiplash. Finally after a very prolonged pause the doors open. Our steps the king and his queen. Dressed in gold, enough gold to be concerned for one's safety.

You can't wear that in the trenches.

They're eyes momentarily scan the room before stepping in time with each other. Gracefully walking the path to their throne, chins lifted high with all the haughtiness you'd expect.

After, slowly passing away and then reviving myself, they finally have ascended the stairs to their expensive decorated chairs.

Pause for dramatic effect.

And they sit.

The entire room clapping the entire time. From the moment they enter the room, until they sit, and many, MANY moments after.

I stand with the crowd calmly keeping my hand clasped in front of me. Discreetly reaching into my bag to pull out my phone. Seeing it's only thirty minutes past nine.

This is going to be a long night.

Soon enough the first course is served. Everyone waiting for the king to take his first bite. Everyone watching in anticipation as he lifts the fork to his mouth. But he pauses just as the doors burst open once again. This time one person stepping through.

One man.

Tall, and dressed in ivory embroidered with gold. His stance assured and confident. Dark blue eyes scanning the crowd carefully, deep set. Tall nose lifted with a purpose. His deep brown hair tumbling over his shoulders looking...wet. A shadow of hair over his mouth and chin. I quickly look away before our eyes could meet.

Sweet mother of god!

Don't look. Don't look. Don't look. DON'T FUCKING LOOK!

"Look at him!" Yazmin squeals quietly shaking me by my arm. "He's gorgeous!"

"Oh he's gorgeous huh?" I take to teasing her as a distraction. She rolls her eyes at me with a groan.

"If you would just look at him!" She whispers.

"No I'll take your word for it!" I tease. "He's gorgeous. Oh he's the bees knees Ma." I whisper drawing my mother into the banter, and she can't help the chuckle that escapes her. "He's just, rip-me-to-shreds-from-the-inside-out perfection, ain't he?" I say and Luca pinches my arm while Yazmin shushes me.

"Isabeau please, as your father spare me from such sentences. I beg you." He says over his shoulders.

"Yaz started it." I snort.

"Did not!" She gasps.

"Did too." I egg on.

"Did not!" Her voice raising and our parents shush us once again.

We fall silent as the prince finally takes his seat beside his father. Finally the king takes a bite, and the rest of the room can finally eat. I steer clear of the wine served as my fork picks at the vegetables on my porcelain plate. Slowly counting the minutes until I can slip out unnoticed.

"Pardon me." I look up to find the same butler from before standing over our table. Right next to me. My father wipes his mouth before standing.

"The prince has requested your family dine with them tonight. Please leave your plates and follow me." He says, his smile genteel and warm. Could have fooled me.