Mara

8

I didn’t realize I was screaming until the door burst open.

“Lady Princess what is it?” Hanry asked sword drawn, but as soon as his eyes fell to Weston he asked no more questions and took action. People were crowding around the door way as Hanry pulled me away from Weston. Jordan pushed through the crowd, closely followed by Jameston who ran to me. I sobbed into him as Hanry’s face grew grim.

“Prince Weston is dead,”

Jordan pulled me into an embrace that no other would ever be able to duplicate. “I’m sorry,” He whispered sending his guards away. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

We sat in his rooms with Sona and no one else. I knew it was my only chance to tell them that I’d never wanted to marry Weston.

“I loved him,” I sighed folding my arms over my chest. “But not how you would love a husband.” Jordan was clearly confused but he said nothing. “I never wanted him dead, but I want to marry Jameston.” His confusion turned to shock. “We were going to act indifferent to each other so Palmyra would make us marry, but then Weston came along and you wanted me to marry him, but I couldn’t tell you why I didn’t want too or Palmyra would’ve ended our relationship. It’s all become such a mess! Why is Weston dead?” I massaged my aching head as Sona joined the embrace. Jordan said nothing as they held me.

“Your highness,” A voice called through the door.

“We wish to be alone,” Jordan said calmly.

“Sir it’s urgent!” the voice seemed more frantic now.

“Well come in then!” Jordan snapped irritably.

A scrawny shaking messenger bolted into the room holding a small piece of paper. “From the queen.” He stuttered handing Jordan the paper and then bolting out.

“For all of God’s sake why couldn’t he just tell us she wants us all in the hall.” He grumbled.

Jordan walked briskly down the corridor as Sona and I bustled to keep up with him. They were already in their wedding cloths when Weston was found and hadn’t changed. Commotion filled the hall as people filled in. I wore Jordan’s tunic and a pair of leggings he’d out grown long ago. They wouldn’t let me in to my rooms to get clothing. My wet hair dripped down the back of the baggy tunic as eyes bored into my skull. Every one was looking at me even after I sunk down into my seat. Palmyra sat perched on an elaborate chair dressed in an obnoxious amount of black. I glanced over at Sona and realized that Palmyra’s dress looked oddly like Sona’s only completely black instead of completely white. Jordan went up and started to say something, but she waved him away. He irritably sat down on the other side Sona arms folded across his chest.

“Ahem,” Palmyra couched falsely to get everyone to stop talking and pay attention. All the louder talking fell to a mummer, but then fell silent when she stood. She strode forward standing high above the rest of us. “As many of you know, tragedy has struck our kingdom today.” She pulled four envelopes out from up her sleeve. “But it was not just the lovely Prince Weston who has died today, but also our beloved King.” The shock of her statement wasn’t that bad considering he’d been sick for so long, but the room seemed to grow cold. “Before my husband passed, he left a farewell letter for each of his children. Weston included, but seeing as he can’t receive his we will send it to his family.” She held out the first envelope. “Jordan.” He stood and took the envelope from her. Then came Sona and then me. “This last letter is for his last child.” She held up the last envelope for the room to see. “His unborn child.” I glanced at Sona, but Palmyra didn’t call her up. “I’m pregnant.” A low murmur broke over the silent room and Palmyra glared out at the crowd. I caught one of the guards saying Palmyra must not be as old as she looked.