Chapter Seven: The Blood stains on the wall

As usual, Advil came through, so six hours later, I was standing in front of a mirror, looking like the damned Queen.

I hated it.

This was exactly what I’d promised my mother that I wouldn’t become. Yet here I was, putting on a fancy ball gown to try to impress someone who didn’t even care about me. It was quite funny how I hadn’t realized it sooner, and simply kept falling deeper in love with Ajax. I cared so much that it physically hurt when he’d betrayed me and shattered any chance of us being together.

The burning of my eyes snapped me out of my reverie, and I looked at myself again, feeling disgusted. My hair was in a preppy bun, so tight that it made my eyes look catty. For the first time in years, I’d put on make-up. It wasn’t much, though. I’d opted for a more natural look. I was sure the other girls would want to go all out for their announcement to the society as the Prince’s Selected, but I really couldn’t care less.

Especially since I wasn’t even selected. Under my dress, I had my gun and knives, and in my hair was an extra tracker, just in case. I’d heard the music in the ballroom start quite a while ago, signalling that the ball had already started.

I was late, which made a perfect scene.

As soon as my heels touched the tiled floors, all eyes were on me. Surely, the first shock all would have had was that I was coming from the prince’s floor, and not the one for the maidens.

Slowly, I walked down the stairs with my head held high up, one hand on the railings, the other hand holding up a side of my dress- the way Ajax had taught me years ago. I finally got downstairs, and the murmurs started, even as everyone danced.

“Who is she?”

“Why is she staying on the Prince’s floor?”

“Is she a cousin?”

Ajax was no where in sight, so I decided to make contact with the competition- the fake competition, that is. I didn’t care about becoming the Queen of Arlon, but these girls- I was sure they would kill just to wear the tiara. I wore a small smile on my face, remembering to seem approachable. If I wasn’t, making allies would be harder.

The ballroom smelled like different kinds of flowers. Lilies, Chrysanthemums, Roses, and one I couldn’t particularly place. The farther I walked into the ballroom, the more I noticed how different my dress was from the others. Many had picked bold shades of blue like cobalt and royal—how ironic—but, I had picked a really light one, even lighter than sky blue.

A man in a light blue suit and a pair of black trousers approached me, and I had to fight the smile playing at my lips. At about 6’0., he towered over me, his brown eyes sparkling as I looked up at him. “May I have this dance, my lady?” He stretched his hand forward. I accepted it, and he whisked me away to the dance floor. His blonde hair was gelled all the way back, bearing an awful resemblance to Prince Charming. He leaned down a bit and whispered in my ear. “Everyone is staring at you.” He bowed.

I curtsied, then twirled a bit in his arms, as we started swaying to the beat. “I know, that was the point.”

He chuckled lightly. “You really are one of a kind, Elianna.” Our palms faced each other.

“I know.” I looked at the ground, hiding my lips. “Any stats?”

“You have four new orders.” He did the same, hiding the movement of his lips. “Plus Big Brain wants to see you.”

Shit. “What does he want?” I looked up at him with a smile, keeping up the act..

“No idea.” He twirls me again. “Rumours have it, he’s come up with a way to merge.”

“Well tell him to fuck off.”

“He’d blow up the Castle to find you, Elianna. You know that.” I hated the soft tone his voice turned into, and the pity in his eyes.

I sighed. “Anyways, how have you been?’

“I’ve been good.” He dipped me a bit. “I miss your pasta though.” He grumbled with a small smile.

“Well the recipe’s in the-”

PUUUM PUM PUM PUM PUUUM!

Trumpets blared loudly, and everyone rushed around, making way. The prince stood at the top of the stairs, his facial expression, passive. He wore the traditional Arlonian outfit for the selection season- a grey suit and black trousers. The dress code was blue, so while everyone looked like the makings of a river, the prince would stand out.

When he finally got to the bottom of the steps, all the females watched in angst. It was an unspoken belief that sixty percent of the time, the prince’s first dance would end up being his wife. Personally, I had no intention of dancing with Ajax, but apparently, it’s an abomination to not want to be with the prince. I’m sure you can imagine the appalled expressions everyone gave me when I creeped to the back and stood there, instead of inching just a bit closer towards the prince.

He looked around the ballroom like he was searching for someone, and all the girls took a sharp breath in. I was sure they were begging whatever god they could to let the prince spare them a glance. Since I wasn’t competing, I leaned on the wall behind me and looked up at the ceiling, admiring the beautiful chandelier that hung from it. It wasn’t that interesting, honestly, but I wanted to look as busy as I possibly could so no one would approach me for a dance.

Murmurs and whispers surrounded the room as the smell of winter and musk got closer to me. I shut my eyes tightly, hoping for the ground to swallow me whole.

Please, don’t be Ajax.

“May I have this dance?” A voice said. I leaned my head down at the hand stretched out to me, then opened my eyes,

Trailing up slowly, they locked with the stormy green eyes I once loved. It felt like we were the only people in the room, like time itself had stopped its never-ending journey just to watch this moment. Every dream I’d had of him, every fantasy—they’d all boiled down to this moment, where he’d claim me as his in front of a crowd of people. Only, then, it would have been real.

I wouldn’t have to pretend to be in love with him, because I’d love him, and he’d love me too--- but dreams die, and that one sure as hell did. Something flashed in his eyes, and it made my breath catch in my throat a bit, A not-so-accidental sneeze broke us out of our trance, and though he’d tried to hide it, I could see the faint stain of red blooming on his neck.

I slid my foot back in a curtsy, acknowledging him. His hand enveloped mine, and I tried to pretend that the chills that ran down my spine were as a result of the cold in the room. He’d picked the Waltz—the first dance he’d taught me.

I was ten, he was thirteen.

I didn’t look at him as we glided across the ballroom, hundreds of eyes on us. “Who picked out the dress for you?” He murmured, looking down at me. I could feel his hot breath fan against the top of my head, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t the most pleasurable thing I’d felt in a long time.

“I picked it out myself.” I said, keeping a firm gaze on the floor. He spun me around—his grip tighter on my waist—and leaned down a bit.

His lips were a ghost’s hair away from my ear. “It looks good on you.” He nibbed my ear for a fraction of a second—so fast, you’d have thought you imagined it. “But I’m sure it’d look better off you.”

I almost choked right then and there. My own spit caught in my lungs, but I had to refrain from coughing., Painfully, I

swallowed., “What do you want, Ajax? There are so many other girls to dance with, why me?” I almost looked in his eyes.

His feet faltered for a moment, but he covered it up by dipping me. “Because.” His tone was suddenly as chill as ice, and my heart pounded just a bit harder. “I want all attention on you. The more people think I like you, the more alliances you’ll make.”

The ease at which he completed that sentence broke my heart just a bit more, and tears welled up in my eyes. “Of course.” I choked out, my voice a bit strained. “Your Majesty’s intelligence is incomparable.”

He didn’t reply, and the rest of the dance was filled with silence. Immediately the first song ended, I curtsied clumsily, and fled the ballroom, my throat clogged.

My Ajax.

He wasn’t my Ajax anymore, He was Prince Ajax, soon to be crowned King of Arlon, and no amount of work I put in would ever make me good enough for him. Just like with everyone else, I wasn’t good enough.

It wasn’t until I heard the hooting of an owl that I realised that I was in the royal garden. A deep whiff of air told me that the roses were blooming, even in the harsh winter. They withstood the icy cold and snow that poured mercilessly on them and remained beautiful.

But their thorns told their story.

I decided right then and there that I’d be a rose. I wouldn’t let Ajax—Prince Ajax, demean me anymore. Every single time he’d called me back, I was always there. But this time, I wouldn’t be.