Blackouts At Breakfast

Yavanna stretched for the fifth time. She had slept peacefully, with only a few bizarre dreams about witches and magic, but her body was sore and stiff.

"Your majesty, General Clark of the Drillburn legion has returned from his campaign in the north. It has been requested that you join him and the royal family for breakfast." Sir Greyson announced.

Yavanna swallowed and closed her eyes from the pain. It felt worse than before, if that was possible. Edith rushed to the dressing table and grabbed the lotion and liquid that the physician had prescribed the day before.

As soon as she began to administer it she saw a flicker of surprise then worry then anger all flare up in the knight's eyes. She knew that the bruises looked like hands. But much to her amazement, he said nothing.

Once the lotion had soaked into her skin enough and she'd drunk the bitter liquid, she was dressed for breakfast with the royal family. Sir Greyson politely excused himself from the room.

She chose out a simple but rich green dress with an orange underdress peeking out from beneath where the dress split from her waist. A belt made of the same green fabric of the dress was pinned around her waist and a necklace with the same antler emblem as the belt buckle was placed on her neck. It had a graceful scoop neck which allowed the cool metal of the necklace to rest against her pale skin.

Looking in the mirror she felt quite pleased with how she looked. Those feelings came crashing down when the king's words rushed back to her and tormented her further. Her now saddened eyes trailed over her womanly figure and she wanted to crawl to her bed and hide beneath the covers. She wanted to somehow know that what he said was false, but he had said himself that he had been with many women and that he knew she was nothing.

She inhaled a wheezing breath and nodded to her maids and ladies in waiting that she was ready. She hoped that no one would try to strike up a conversation with her, she would have to contrive an explanation for her lack of voice and she didn't feel much like conversing anyways.

She arrived at the dining room and the doors opened for her. Leveling her shoulders and feet she stepped forward and sat gracefully at the end of the table, opposite to where the king was currently sitting.

"Good morning, your majesty." A cheery male voice said to her right. A young man sat next to the king, his blue eyes were nearly the same as his, just not as harsh. His blond hair was certainly quite different; its unruly curls and tufts were a stark contrast to the king's smooth, liquid gold hair. "My apologies for being unable to be at your coronation and wedding. I hear they were quite spectacular."

She nodded and began to eat so as to have an excuse not to speak. A chill crawled up her spine and enveloped her body when she heard a familiar voice speaking behind her, "They were beautiful events, Clark. Indeed they were. And our dear Queen shone like a star."

A loud, metallic sound echoed throughout the large room and all gazes snapped to Yavanna, who had dropped her fork from his words. She didn't know how else to respond to the fact that he had been at both events, likely hiding in the shadows, watching her. She blinked a few times to rouse herself from the stupor her fear had placed her in.

She aggravated her throat by swallowing some water, which was a difficult feat with her veil, and the multiple eyes on her as she did so. She sniffed softly and raised her eyes from where she had set her wooden cup down to look at the king. Next, she looked at the young man sitting next to him. He removed the curious gaze from his eyes and replaced it with a genial one.

She smiled back, doing her best to conceal her nerves. She could feel the cold creeping along her skin from the individual lurking behind her. The sound of slow, purposeful footsteps came from behind her as the object of her nightmares leisurely came into view. She stilled at the sight of his face.

It was similar to that of the king's, and of the young man seated beside him, but her tormentor's eyes were a steely blue, almost the colour of the stone walls surrounding them. And different from both men seated at the table, his eyes hid an insanity and violent storm just under the surface. He smiled and she saw it pour over and into his expression.

He bowed as though it was a kind gesture when it only felt predatorial. Straightening, he said, "Good morning, your majesty." He grabbed her hand from the table and she felt her heart escape her chest and race in her mind. She nearly felt faint from his venomous proximity. As though the entire world had slowed she watched in horror as he kissed her knuckles.

As soon as his cold lips pressed to her skin the world seemed to snap back into place and then went dark.

When everything returned to her she looked to her left to find Prince Velio sitting at the base of the wall on the far left side of the room, dazed and shaking his head. Looking back at the king she saw him still in his place, his expression calm and collected. And the young man beside him was on his feet, his chair having been pushed back and fallen on the ground.

Her mouth fell open and she curled slightly towards herself, bowing her head and pulling her arms and shoulders closer. What had happened? She turned her head back and forth between the two scenes; one of Velio still recovering on the floor and the other of the composed king and the startled young man.

"I…" She rasped out, having forgotten that her throat was injured. Injured by that same man that was now staring at her with an expression akin to glee.