Descendants of the Kings (Book 2)

Ch 57: The petty woes of the rich and famous

Ella rolled her shoulders back and smoothed her hair, making sure it was all in place.

She felt raw, hollow and shaky, as if one good wind could blow her over. Still, she painted on a smile and walked in, head held high. If there was something she was good at, it was pretending.

Ella quickly found Prince Cian. He stood near the front, holding two delicate flutes. He smiled when he saw her, making room for her.

"Is everything alright?" he asked as she came to stand next to him.

"Yes, just a message from the King," Ella lied easily.

Prince Cian shifted uncomfortably. "Prince Aedion. He seemed... serious. Was he upset?"

"Do not take it to heart, Aedion is like that," Ella dismissed, receiving the flute and taking a sip, washing away the sour taste in her throat. "He takes his duty seriously. Makes a fuss about unimportant matters."

"Are you close?" he asked curiously.

"Not really. He works for His Majesty, as he is the High Chancellor. We rarely see each other, only on formal occasions."

The lie tasted bitter on her tongue. She washed it down with another gulp of water.

"Oh, well, that's good then," he said lightly, smiling in that timid manner.

Ella's stomach twisted. She dipped her head at the largest balcony in the second story. "Oh, look, the Queen is coming out."

The Queen stood on the highest balcony, all eyes rapt on her. Lady Dara stood by her side, ready to begin. From the corner of her eye, Ella saw Valren sneaking behind a pillar.

"Welcome, all," Queen Silene began, her voice smooth and clear, amplified by a charm. "We are pleased to have you with us today, celebrating yet another joyous spring solstice. It is always a marvellous occasion when we can all get together to--"

Ella tuned her out. She was focused on the glass in Prince Cian's hands. A delicate little flute held between slim, bare fingers. She had only one chance. If she did this wrong, it could end terribly.

Beside her, guests were vying to get closer, intent on better hearing the Queen. Ella unleashed the little wrist loop that kept the train of her gown from dragging. She discreetly spread it out.

A man near her excitedly stepped close, unknowing. He crushed the delicate silk beneath his boot.

Taking a small breath, Ella took a step forward, pretending to crane her neck to better see the Queen. The train of her dress pulled tight, tangling between her legs. She knocked right into Prince Cian.

Ella gasped as they went tumbling, shoving other guests as they did so. Their glasses shattered, wine and water spilt on the floor.

There was a small commotion as the crowd parted to make space, guards approaching to see what had happened. On the balcony, the Queen had paused speaking, frowning down at them.

"Oh, the prince has fallen!" someone exclaimed.

"I'm quite alright, nothing to worry about," Prince Cian called, dusting off his hands. He'd landed on a broken shard of glass, his fingers streaked in red. On the floor, a few shards were smeared with his blood.

Ella quickly kicked them beneath the pooling train of her dress.

"Prince Cian," Val said, helping him stand. She righted him, and he gave her a grateful look. Quick as a fox, she dipped away, just as fast as she'd appeared.

"I am terribly sorry, it was my fault," exclaimed the man who had unwittingly stepped on Ella's gown, helping her stand.

"Quite alright," she assured him. "Accidents happen."