Stolen Kingdom

V

I am in no mood for the masquerade when the clock strikes five. I had endured a long day of boredom. First my fitting with Clarice, with an even more extravagant dress than before. The mask covers hardly any of my face, particularly because I am the prize to be won, not the suitor to be chosen for their personality rather than appearance. Clarice tells me every suitor with have nearly a full face mask, cutting off just under their nose. Only their eyes, lips, and hair color will be visible. It doesn't sound as so, but that means almost their entire facial structure will be hidden.

Facial structure is crucial in recognition.

After my fitting, the first suitor who had offered me jewels, the Prince Charles of Alemor, had approached me for lunch. Instead of leaving the castle, we ate alone in the dining hall. Pretending to be interested in politics is much harder when you've been deprived a night's sleep. I can't imagine he wants to be around me again anytime soon.

Then another suitor, the Duke Collin of Whirlton, had asked me for a tour of the palace, an attempt to be sly for my attention. I obliged, nonetheless, as it is my duty to do so. But that does not mean I enjoyed the company in the slightest.

Perhaps I am being too harsh. I'm trying my best, I genuinely am.

But I do not wish to be a fake, a liar to appease those around me.

The ball began about a half hour ago, and I have accepted the dance of more men than I'd like to admit. I have no choice in the matter, not really. Not when my father is standing at his throne with a proud smile as he watches me. He believes I'm satisfied when I smile back at him. I cannot find the strength in me to break that pride.

But it would be much easier to pretend if the suitors were actually interesting. Majority of them speak of politics, and what their country can offer Eudora. It is important topics, but I fear I am not the right person to speak of them with. I know the politics my lessons forced me to learn, and even that knowledge dwindles away after a couple of days. I can't bother to remember something I don't care about, and that is one of my downfalls as a future queen. Why I should not be in the running at all.

I slip away to the buffet table after my umpteenth dance ends, desperate for a moment to myself. I resituate the mask on my face, then pour a glass of water. There is champagne to the right of it, but last time I had champagne to forget a horrible ceremony, I completely humiliated my father. Not to mention I felt awful the next day.

As I take my first sip, a voice rises from beside me. "You look miserable."

I look to the man, taking in his concealing mask that only gives me sight of pink lips and--green eyes. Unmistakable green. My eyes widen yet I try to remain nonchalant so as not to draw attention. "What are you doing here?" I hiss. "You are a fool."

"Perhaps so," he admits. "But we did not properly depart yesterday."

"What are you talking about?"

"After our dance. You left without a goodbye." I glance at him and he smirks.

I can't believe him. "So you risk your identity being revealed simply because I did not bid you farewell in Riftborne?"

He bristles, teasingly. Carelessly. "Well, when you say it like that, I do sound like a fool, don't I? Alas, it is true. I was quite insulted," he jokes, feigning offense with a hand to his chest.

I can't help but to stare at him. What in the world goes on inside that head? He must be half mad to prance in here so casually with guards lurking every corner. After the first ceremony, the security is so tight, it feels as if everyone in the room has a leash on them. No one leaves without intense questioning, and no one is allowed to reenter. In fact, when the clock had struck at five, if you had not made it inside, you would not make it inside ever. Everyone is being watched meticulously with the narrowed eyes of the highest ranked knights my father has.