Atalanta

Part 12

• Y/N •

It takes over a week for the palace to return to normalcy.

Or, as normal as things can be, considering I have just exited a year-long curse and an orphan boy from Kom will soon be crowned prince consort of Dietas.

I stand at the center of the throne room, flanked on either side by my mother and father. The events of today are mostly traditional: a sending-off ceremony for the newest recruits of the army. They will ride out tomorrow to defend the northern borders of the Realm. It was been over ten years since the invasion of Kom but still, each Province sends men annually to defend the wall. When they ride out tomorrow, Menelaus will be with them.

I try not to think overlong on this. Smiling and laughing along with my courtiers, I clasp my hands gently over the silk of my dress. On my head is a thin circlet of lapis – one of the first times in recent memory I have felt deserving of its weight. It serves to remind me what I have lost, I think as I touch my head. Also, what I have gained.

"He's here," my mother whispers, inclining her head.

I nod, only once. Her announcement was hardly necessary – I noticed the minute Menelaus steeped through the door and have followed him with my gaze ever since. He has kept to the back of the room, attempting to stay out of sight. Still, I see him. I will always see him. I will always remember the aftermath of that night.

Lips tightening, I try not to let my fury show on my face. For Menelaus to have come here, he must think he has gotten away with his crime. Still, it must have thrown a kink in his plans when Menelaus heard Jimin has lived. He must have assumed that with no witnesses, he would get away with his treachery.

Still, he is foolish to think Jimin did not recognize him.

Eventually, Menelaus makes his way forward. It would be rude for him not to – to ride out of Dietas without the blessing of the King and Queen is terrible bad luck. No soldier would risk it.

Coming to a stop before my father, Menelaus inclines his head. "King," he rumbles, the word deep in his throat. "I thank you mightily for the opportunity to serve your crown."

My father does his best to conceal his fury – but when Menelaus looks up, he recoils. My father is not the type of man one could call dishonest. "I offer opportunity to all," he states silkily. "When they conduct themselves with both honor and dignity."

Slightly shaken, Menelaus nods and moves on to my mother. "My Queen," he states, bowing again.

My mother is far better at this than my father. She tilts her head, considering the man and for a moment, I wonder if she might have forgotten. Then I see the steely glint to her eyes, how tightly she holds onto the cloth of her dress and I know she is furious.

"Menelaus," she says, waiting until he looks up. "How lovely to have this whole, messy business of a broken engagement behind us. Thank you for supporting my daughter, the future Queen and her husband-to-be."

A muscle in Menelaus' jaw ticks. "I am happy to serve, my Queen," he says stiffly.

"Good." My mother smiles. "I am delighted to hear that."

I can practically hear her accusation in the silence which follows. I almost laugh, until Menelaus turns and locks gazes with mine. It gives me no small sense of satisfaction to watch his smile falter. He comes forward slowly, stopping before me.

"Princess," he says, bowing low at the waist.

I wait a long moment. "Ah, Menelaus." Like my mother, there is sweetness laced in my tone. "I am so very sorry to see you go."