All's Fair in Revenge

Chapter 19: Dinner

Castle Moer's Great Hall glittered with candlelight. Flickering flames danced against arched stained-glass windows, draped in golden tapestry. Curtains stitched with Dorsette's double-sword crest muffled meddling conversations held at their hems. Stone pillars created an aisle leading to the back of the hall where pairs swirled in creamy lace and muted silks. In an alcove, music unlike any I knew poured from instruments with strings I'd never seen. It's sound drew Liv and I in beneath the frame of towering arches bracing massive doors made of wood and steal. Were the castle ever under siege, I imagined the room to be a final hold-out of sorts.

"Unreal," I said, taking in the gaudy decor. "This is what the servants can do without notice?"

Liv slipped her hand through my own and we stepped down three steps into the massive, glittering room. But before we could enter, two white gloves pushed us back.

"You cannot pass," said a man with curled hair and a tailored suit coat.

"Why not?" My glare was the only warning he'd receive for placing his hand on Liv and me without permission.

He pulled away from my abdomen, but his fingers hovered all the same. "Royals only."

"We are royals. The king himself invited us." Confidence rang in Liv's tone, but I felt her hand travel between the split in her skirt where a knife I'd gifted her from my bag of weapons awaited. I hadn't the time to inventory everything Thorne took, but I had seen Arin's dagger and that was all that had mattered. Everything else was replaceable. My fingers brushed where I had it stuffed between my breasts.

"Not to my knowledge." His fingers lingered on his needle-thin sword but dare not move.

"Then go ask him yourself. We'll wait."

"I cannot simply leave my post to do the bidding of some lowland—"

Anger gathered in my shoulders and chest, straightening my spine with rallying fury. I dared the man to finish his sentence, challenged him to insult us further. Fortunately for him, we were interrupted.

"Now, now..." A bloom of purple fabric and hand-sewn lace, loose ringlets and heavy-handed rouge approached. One silk-glove held a familiar chalice filled to its brim. "Good sirs, this is the crown prince's betrothed. I believe my father would have both your heads if he heard how you treated the womb of our future heir." The men swallowed, stepping back as regret painted their expressions. "Not to mention, your future queen." Funny the order with which she listed those duties.

Sweat beaded above the first man's brow. "We're so sorry, Your Royal Highnesses. We didn't know," babbled the quieter one.

Unamused and unaffected, Nathara said, "I do hope the king forgives such insolence. Perhaps he'll be merciful if you make it up to them."

"H-h-how?" whimpered the hair with curls.

"I'm not sure." She sipped from her cup, the deep red matching her lips. "But you could start by giving Princess Hana of Kelvia and her Lady Liv a proper announcement to the court. Unless you'd rather keep them waiting."

When I opened my mouth to ask exactly what such an announcement entailed, the meekest hollered our names into the air above the room. The guests froze mid-dance, halting all conversation. And that's when I learned to never use the main door to Castle Moer's great hall ever again.

Nathara smiled at the two men and whispered to me. "My apologies. Were I king, I'd replace most of these sycophants. The footmen first and foremost."