TFL ch 34

      "Forgive me if I seem impertinent, Your Highness, but I think it quite odd for you to annul the engagement between you and Prince Eric." Duke Wilhelm, a renowned leader in Rhodenheim Consul, says. His thin eyes hold Selina's gaze audaciously and his jaw juts out in rebellion. His pointed features stand out from the rest of the figures present because of the shrewdness they portray. With an accusing glance at me, he continues, "Also, a mere servant? You are actually allowing a servant, a lady-in-waiting, to have your former fiancé? Ha!" The caustic words resonate in the air dramatically as both courts present turn to view my reaction to his words.

What a spit in my face! My stomach tightens as the tense moment prolongs. How dare he? Gwen clutches my arm and her eyes plead for me to keep silent. But there is nothing for me to say? The truth in his words has left the chamber speechless.

Selina's lips purses as she stares the duke down. "You are impertinent, Duke Wilhelm. You forget that as queen, I am free to choose whom I will marry. And I do not wish to marry Prince Eric, and he does not wish to marry me. And as for who has won his heart, that is most certainly none of your concern, nor is it mine."

The duke nods and assumes a false look of remorse. "I beg your pardon, my queen." With those supercilious words, he begins to sit down, but before does Eric rises and addresses him.

"If I were you, I would take care of how you speak of those you know little about. Lady Terrulet is kind, noble, loyal, and courageous, which makes her more worthy of my affection than the majority of the aristocracy." His eyes flash with protective anger, his eyebrow cocked challengingly.

Before the duke replies, Lord Bentley cuts in, "Let us begin to address the matter at hand."

Lord Darby adds, "Yes, that would be for the best, would it not?" He looks at those around him and smiles, somehow relieving the tension with that proud smirk of his. The meeting plunges into the tedious details of a peace contract between our nations. The hours drag on as compromises are made and political technicalities are corrected. Not entirely listening, I scan each entrance and the balcony periodically for any threats. Although Castra lies in my room, my dagger rests snugly against my hip in case of an attack. Servants rush along as they cross the balcony, but nothing else disturbs the meeting.

Quite content that the princess and the court are safe for the time being, I use the moment to observe those present. Lord Darby sits directly across from me and I watch him intently. His handsome features are serious, his face completely calm. Despite the recent suspicion of him, I found him to be a calming presence at this meeting. His knowledge of war and politics made him invaluable to our king. And how many times had he risked his life for Aspenvale? Surely the letter must have been a misunderstanding. Yet the handwriting... It was so similar to the letter Gwen showed me...

Turning to view his son, I notice the degree of superiority etched on his face. His chin is tilted upward, his lips drawn into a beguiling smirk. At intervals, he leans toward Gwen to whisper something in her ear and she smiles back. Could they really both be out to harm Aspenvale? The thought is perturbingly true and false at the same time.

Pushing the thought aside, I watch Lord Bentley. My first impression of him remains, a dragon-slayer. A scar runs down his left cheek, giving his wise features a fierce look. For no more than thirty-five years of experience, the earl is impressive. Battles against the Melitan raiders and against Isadoren, the island nation across the sea, had made Lord Bentley a worthy leader for Rhodenheim's Consul.

Shifting my gaze once again, I watch Eric. My Eric. The possessive thought makes me grin. How good it is to truly call him mine! His brows are knit as he contemplates what is being said. My mind ponders his defense of me. "More worthy than most of the aristocracy?" Could he really think such a thing? I am so unworthy! Lifting his eyes to meet mine, he smiles with bright eyes mouthing the words, "I love you." The gesture makes my heart flutter and I quickly respond back with "I love you, too."

The sudden clatter of feet outside the chamber tears my gaze away. Voices shout, "WAIT!" and another voice replies, "I must speak with the prince now! It cannot wait!" The doors are flung open and in rushes a courier dressed in the gray and blue of Aspenvale.

"Good Heavens, what is the matter?" Lord Bentley exclaims.

The courier breathes out through heavy panting, "Forgive me, my prince, for the entrance, but my message is of the greatest importance and it could not wait. Aspenvale has been raided."

"What?" Eric says over the gasps of the Aspenvale court. He rises to his feet, his hand at his waist as though reaching for Eximius already. "By whom?"

"The Melitan raiders, sire." My stomach drops at the name. Was this the surprise of the letter? Was this Lord Darby's goal? Or only Wesson's spite? His way of paying me back? I hoped for the latter rather than the former.

The courier continues, "They swept in from the north and attacked those provinces first. The king fears more raids are to come and demands that whole court either return to their manors to protect their people or return to Gorgon. Every man will be needed." The pit in my stomach grows. How many have been killed? For the revenge of a spurred criminal? And what of Lord Darby's letter? What could he gain from this?

Apparently, Eric's thoughts are in the same direction. "What do you have to say, Lord Darby?" An accusation lies beneath those words, the challenging glint in Eric's eyes clearly speaking for itself.

Lord Darby answers smoothly, "We should leave as soon as possible, your highness."

With a stiff nod, Eric says, "We leave at tomorrow's first light. Forgive us, Queen Selina."

"Nonsense. Your people need you. I bid you Godspeed." At her words, all rise and leave the room, whispers and murmur pervading the air.

Trembling, Gwen takes my arm and whispers, "The tragedies... is it prophecy come true? Has it already begun?"

I dare not reply, for I find myself asking the same question.

*******************************************************************************

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