Flame in the Palace

7. Politics

The rest of the afternoon passes in relative comfort compared to her joust. The only action required of her is to enjoy the tournament's festivities, cheering at the opportune moments. Her joust with Cressida causes several things to go into motion. First, anyone that walks past her cheers for Lady Hawthorne or House Bramble. She smiles and waves at these, eliciting additional cheers. It is hard to believe she has fans just because she can take a hit with a lance a few times, but she supposes men are honored at the tournament for lesser accomplishments.

Second, Cressida's victory earns her a spot in the Royal Tent, which leaves Myria and Eulalia able to sit and watch the lists without her renowned smugness.

It does not, however, save them from Theodora's condescension.

"You did your best," Theodora praises Myria as she enters the suitor tent. "It's not so surprising that it took something so barbaric and undignified to get you to third place."

Myria is not given a chance to retort as Eulalia intervenes on her behalf. "It's not so surprising that your best efforts only got you second place." Her friend leans across Myria to face Theodora, a sweet smile fixed on her face.

Theodora falters at Eulalia's sudden boldness, and even Myria does a double-take to make sure it is indeed her friend sitting next to her. The Stirling quickly recovers, pointing out, "You didn't do any better, Runewell."

"And yet, you don't see me walking around and criticizing everyone else to feel better about losing. Please, sit down, so we can enjoy the tournament."

At that, Theodora turns away with a flash of her black skirts, sitting on the other side of the tent with Brigid and Sabine.

Myria nods approvingly. "Well done, Lady Runewell," she says, clapping her hands together softly. "Where did that come from?"

Eulalia smiles sheepishly, leaning back in her seat, her almond eyes bright and energetic. "She deserves it, you know. Treating Emiri that way on stage, clawing for the prince's attention while you were being healed. She acts so self-important, but she didn't dare joust."

Myria tilts her head at Eulalia's tone. "What do you mean?"

Eulalia considers her words, a slow, mischievous smile stretching across her face. "Well, when you sent me out of the healer's tent to... protect our interests—" She giggles at her word choice. "Theodora was there, doing the same thing. She kept insisting on how your joust was no meaningful accomplishment, so I challenged her."

Myria is stunned. "To a joust?"

Eulalia nods, her face reddening. "Yes. I don't know if it was the heat of the moment or if you inspired me so much, but I wanted to joust her to prove her wrong if nothing else."

"What happened?"

Eulalia shrugs. "She was stunned and didn't say anything. Then, her brother swooped in to whisk her away."

Myria feels something cold set her teeth on edge. "Aryn?" The name leaves a bitter taste on her tongue.

Eulalia nods. "He mentioned how she didn't need to resort to such measures to prove herself."

Myria shifts in her wooden seat, gingerly adjusting herself as any movement reminds her of her battered and bruised body. The snowpack Emiri had made for her is still working, tied to her shoulder. "How was your time with Leor?" she asks, changing the subject.

A wistful smile stretches across Eulalia's face. "Prince Leor is the personification of courtly charm. He has a way of making you feel like you're the most important person in the room."