Wanderess

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

She opened the door to find every eye in the room focused on her.

She didn't look that bad, did she? Sure, she ran but Fayre could handle a little sprint without looking like she just rolled out of bed.

It took her a minute to register the King sitting on his chair, the only Angel not standing. In his hands he held a scroll. Red ribbon sat discarded on the table before him, they had already read its contents. Without her. She was the Crown Princess of Solas, soon to be Queen, how dare they exclude her from this- it was clearly important and may contain information about the Darkness plaguing her lands. She opened her mouth to voice her protests, but her father simply shook his head, holding the coiled paper in his hands out to her.

Taking a hesitant step forward, her hand shook as she reached for the script.

There, in elegant scrawl, a poem sat, a limerick of sorts, one that didn't rhyme very well, but made its impact all the same.

The new heir is to ascend.

The Halo remains unseen.

Soon you will face the End.

Before you can crown the Queen.

Prepare for battle.

Be ready for the worst.

For the entire kingdom will rattle.

When the enemy comes headfirst.

The Princess had gone as still as the room around her.

She let the scroll fall to the table in front of her. Let it carelessly drop and curl up on itself once more. Her eyes met her fathers as every other pair sat focused on her, as they had been since she entered the room. She could see the hopelessness shining in the King 's eyes.

It was odd the room was as silent as they were.

Maybe they had not read the rhyme.

But why the sullen mood had they not?

"Where did it come from?" Her query was whispered, although it seemed to boom, echo and ricochet in the silent space.

One shake of the King's head, which she now realised his elegant crown rested atop his hair.

The King was like every other citizen of Solas. Clean cut, light hair, only his was a light ash grey. His complexion tan, but in this moment; he was pale as a ghost.

"You don't know? How do you not know?" Fayre had no right to get angry, no right to speak to her King; her father, the way she was, but she couldn't control the hopelessness inking itself into her very being, the despair rocking her entire body and the anger growing second by second.

Yet, not one soul corrected her for her harsh tone. Not one person reprimanded her. Not even the King of the Angels himself.

"Fayre, My Lady, the message was dropped off at the Palace steps, when it was found, no one was in sight, and no one claims the note. We've questioned most of the staff and no one saw anything either." Fallon put a hand on her shoulder, which she shrugged off. She didn't need sympathy now, she needed answers.

"Well then, why are you all so God-damn silent? Why has no one said anything about it since I walked in? Or have you all discussed this without me." Her last query was more of an aggressive statement.

She couldn't keep the bite out of her tone, the harshness shocking even herself.

To this, the King did step in. Standing from his chair, he placed both had on the table before him, "Fayre! I get you are emotional and distraught now, but that tone will not be accepted at Court."