Eric followed the king and queen at a respectable distance befitting his role as Commander, into the banquet hall.  Long tables were  set up all along the edges, chairs on one side each, creating a giant rectangle. Bainon, Narissa, Eric, Samson, and now it seemed Aundreya, would be sitting at the head on the far wall.  In the center, the floor had been cleared. After the meal, the dancing would begin.

Eric hated dancing.

"To think," Samson said under his breath as they sat, Eric on the king's left, and Samson on the other side. "This is only the first of many to endure."

"Too many," Eric agreed, straightening and surveying the hall. How many here trusted Bainon's rule, and how many would turn on him in a heartbeat if given the chance at more power?

Conversation hummed through the room as servants presented the meal. Out of the corner of his eye, Eric watched Aundreya lavish Narissa with praise and compliment.

Her gifting is in lying. She's far too dangerous near the crown. 

"Of that thing we discussed earlier," Bainon said, a pleasant smile fixed on his face as he kept his gaze forward, nodding his head at all who offered their respect. "Don't think I've forgotten. This will take time."

"I thank you, my king," Eric said, shooting him the faintest smile. "I wanted to ask - are these ventures wise? To have so many in one room who matter to the well being of our land. Isn't that asking for trouble?"

"It might be. But what better way to draw out our enemies than to give them a reason to arrive? Ah, yes, Sir Truso, lovely to see you again."

Eric shot up out of his seat at the sight of Abigail's father. The older man nodded, his eyes still holding all the joy of a basset hound. 

"The honor is ours, my king. I only hoped to steal a moment with your Commander, here."

"Of course, of course. Eric?" 

Eric moved out from the table, walking off with Abigail's father, his heart pounding in his chest. As they stepped into a side chamber, Eric extended his arm. "I'm sorry I haven't been to see you since my return."

Truso slapped his hand away, glower darkening. "Don't put your false pretenses on me, boy. I'm here for recompense, not niceties." He pushed Eric up against the wall. "My daughter is dead because of you. They broke into our home, dragged her away in the night - the last I saw of her was her screaming for--" he turned his head away, mouth grim.

Eric didn't push away, didn't fight back. He allowed Truso a moment to collect himself before speaking.

"Abigail's alive."

Truso's head shot up. "What? How?"

"She was...rescued...more or less, from the executioner by - by a friend." Eric grimaced, unable to find the words to describe Phoenix. "She's likely with the Militia as we speak. And while she'll be safe with them as long as they don't know who she is, the sooner she gets away from them, the better." Eric gently pushed Truso back away from him. "If you have any contacts that can get word to her there - do it. Tell her to come home."

"This is a trick," Truso said, rearing up. "You're trying to ferret out the Militia."

"I'm trying to save Abigail." Eric lowered his voice. "She was taken because of me, do you understand? They want her dead because of me. What do you think the Militia would do if they knew she mattered to me as well?"

The blood drained from Truso's face. "I-I don't know anyone in the Militia."

"Then find someone who does, but say nothing to anyone else. Don't speak of this to anyone - even those you think you can trust. It's too dangerous, and Abigail's life will be in danger."

"Won't she be in danger if she comes home?"

Eric hesitated. "I won't let her be hurt again. I'll keep my distance. I'll find a way to make the queen see that Abigail isn't a threat to her plans."

"The queen? The queen is the reason my girl was taken?"

"Don't speak of this ever again," Eric warned, realizing he'd said too much. "For your own safety as much as Abigail's. Now go, enjoy the feast, and don't let anyone see anything other than joy on your face. Your daughter is alive. Let that buoy you."

Truso pursed his lips and nodded. Without a word, he left Eric, who bent over double, heart hammering. What would he do when Abigail returned? How could he keep her safe?

The feast bustled on in a dull roar, and Eric almost fell out of his seat in surprise when the music began to play, signaling the dancing portion had begun. 

It wasn't the same as an all out ball, with the magnificent dresses and coats with tails, but a miniature version happened at each of these feasts.  Eric often wondered how they didn't grow tired of the repetition.

"What a wonderful idea. Eric?" Narissa beckoned his attention and he moved to her side. "Why don't you take Aundreya out for a dance? She's been telling me how the two of you have formed such a great friendship during your time in Braskey."

Eric stared at Narissa, dumbstruck. Not even she - a powerful sorceress - was free of Aundreya's lies. 

So why am I?

"Of course," Eric said, knowing he didn't have a choice. "Lady Aundreya." He crooked out his elbow, and her dark eyes glittered with triumph as she took his arm.

He led her to the dance floor, every inch of his skin crawling. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a deep frown on Samson's face, watching with furrowed brows from the sidelines.

"Tell me, Lady Aundreya. Since when have we been friends?" Eric arched a brow and took her hand as the dance began - a waltz, of course.

"We've always been friends, Eric. Who wouldn't want to be friends with the son of the king?" 

Ah, so that was her game. She thought him the heir - she must have pulled the truth from Narissa during dinner.

"And yet, you lie. You don't know me any more than the other men here. In fact, I'd say you know me less. Tell me, how is your sister?"

Aundreya jerked back as though slapped, eyes wide. "We are friends - the most intimate friends. And I don't have a sister."

"Really?" Eric pressed his lips together. "That's funny. She looked so healthy when I last saw her, just a few months ago in the Pass. She traveled with her friends, and with the prettier version of your face."

Aundreya's grip tightened on his arm as she let out a low hiss of anger. "You're feeling weak. You can't stand. You're dizzy and your muscles ache as though -"

"The only thing that I ache for is this dance to end." Eric smirked down at her shocked expression. "Your lies don't work on me."

For several seconds she said nothing, her eyes raking over him. "It's because you're like her, isn't it? Laina? Something about your tattoos means it doesn't work." She sneered up at him. "It won't stop me from getting what I want, you know. I've already put the plans in play."

"I believe you." Eric hated the words, but deep down he knew his ability was rare, and Aundreya would have the  court in the palm of her hands.

"She was with her wasn't she?" Aundreya asked, glower darkening. Her whole demeanor had shriveled, her shoulders hunching in hatred. "Noelle was with Laina."

"Laina and others," Eric agreed. "Men. Men who find her beautiful and fascinating. Men who would die for her."  This he couldn't be sure was true, but it wasn't exactly false, either. He knew better than anyone the bonds formed by travel through dangerous lands. Besides, he relished the look of bitterness on Aundreya's face.

"She--wait." Her eyes popped open, mouth hanging. "She...was she with Maverick?" 

Ahhh, there it is. Eric shrugged. "Why would I tell you. There we are, the music has stopped. Good evening, Aundreya. I hope we don't meet again." He turned on his heel and marched off, leaving her alone on the dance floor.  It didn't last long before another young noble approached and asked for the honor of the next dance.

"Isn't she lovely?" Narissa asked, a funny sort of vacancy in her eyes as she looked at Aundreya. "I'm so glad she's whom you've chosen."

"Chosen?" Eric, who had meant to keep walking, stopped dead in his tracks. "Chosen for what?"

"Your bride. She was telling me all about your proposal." Narissa turned her blank expression to Eric. "And to think, I thought you pined after that Truso girl. Pity. Had I known...ah well, what's done is done. Aundreya will make a lovely bride."

Eric gritted his teeth, holding back any sort of retort. Aundreya may want to be queen, but she had another thing coming if she thought he'd play along.

Then again. A little voice inside him sprang to life. You're at court, you might as well play the game. What better way to keep Aundreya at bay than to play along, keeping her just close enough to prevent tantrum or suspicion? 

Grinning, Eric moved to Samson's side. "I have a plan, and I need your help."

Uhhhhh WHAT? Eric and Aundreya forced into an engagement? EW!

Who can't wait to see Eric's plan? Who is dreading the fact that Aundreya plans to stay? Who is secretly RELISHING the knowledge that Eric can't be king, so Aundreya's plan is all for not?

Speak now in the comments. See you soooooon!