A Dove's Tale

Chapter 17

A male voice, presumably Sariel, answered my knock at his office door.

"Come in."

I entered with some trepidation, shutting the door carefully behind me. He sat at his desk, his lavender eyes narrowed and sizing me up behind his glasses. Like Prince Leon, he had black hair and wore black clothes, but that was where the similarity ended. There was something frightening about his thin smile. He sat with his elbows propped up on the desk, white cuffs peeking out just past the ends of his jacket sleeves, and he touched the tips of his black-gloved fingers together as he looked me over. And look me over he did, head to toe. An image of a snake measuring its prey flashed through my mind, maybe because of the snakeskin print down the front of his jacket. I did my best to shut that image away and force a smile.

"My name is Ivetta. The head maid said you wanted to see me?"

"Sit down."

I did so, glad for the heavy wooden desk that separated us. Books, documents, and blank parchment littered the desk in front of him, and large rolls of paper stuck out of a decorative pot to my left. Maroon and gold tapestries framed the windows behind him, with an open book embroidered in gold on the central portion of the draperies directly above his head. The red and gold carpet beneath me was plush and luxurious, but clearly, comfort was not the priority in this office. Sariel took his work seriously. He looked to be about the same age as Prince Jin, early thirties, I guessed, and he couldn't have gained his position as the king's regent at such a young age unless he was a hard worker.

Or unless he used underhanded methods, perhaps.

"Are you aware of the manner by which the next king is chosen?" he asked.

No small talk, then - he was getting straight to the point. Although what that point may be, I didn't know, and the odd question didn't enlighten me.

"I've heard a bit about it, but I don't know much. I know it's not as simple as the oldest legitimate prince automatically inheriting the throne."

"Correct. A commoner, a girl with a pure and beautiful heart, is given the title of Belle, and she represents the people and selects the next king."

Suddenly, I saw where this was going, and I didn't like it.

"The king is very ill, and it would be best if a new king were to be selected before he passes away. It has come to my attention that you fit the criteria of Belle."

His frightening smile hadn't changed at all, as if it were an everyday thing for a maid to be chosen to name the next king.

"I'm flattered, but I'm afraid I can't accept such a role," I said carefully.

"And what could be more important than your duty to your country?" he asked, his smile widening and becoming even more dangerous. I could almost see a forked tongue slipping out of his mouth to taste me. But, as Theresa had reminded me, I could handle Prince Chevalier. Surely, I could handle this devil, too.

"My mother is very sick, and I can't take on any more responsibilities that would keep me from her."

"That will be no problem. I will have you both moved here to the palace, and she will have a nurse assigned to her while you perform your duties as Belle."

He removed his elbows from the desk, reaching for a blank piece of parchment and a quill. I realized he was going to write the order now unless I could come up with a reason good enough to stop him.

"Thank you, but I don't want to put her through the stress of moving her. Surely you can find somebody else."

Not good enough. I knew that as soon as the words left my mouth.