Chapter 8

"Why yes, Your Majesty," she replied, her voice calm, betraying nothing. "I have indeed come across whispers of such a thing during my studies. Though, as far as I know, it is merely myth—an old tale spun from fragments of forgotten history. The text said to hold its secrets has long been lost to time."

 Her response was measured, her tone devoid of anything that could reveal more than she intended. The king's lips twitched upward, though his eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he regarded her, a predator weighing its prey. "A myth, you say?" he murmured, swirling the wine in his goblet. "Many myths have a way of clawing their way into reality, do they not?"

 Before Rhaine could respond, the princess chose that moment to speak, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife cloaked in silk. "Saintess," she began, her tone deceptively sweet, though her eyes betrayed the sharp edge of her curiosity. "Why do you conceal your face with a veil? It must be so… isolating."

 The question hung in the air, deceptively simple but pointed. Rhaine turned her gaze to the princess, catching the faint glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes, as though she'd fired an arrow she was sure would land true.

 "It is our sacred custom, Your Highness," Rhaine replied evenly. "The Saintess must veil herself in the presence of men to preserve purity and virtue."

 The princess tilted her head, her delicate features softening in feigned curiosity. "Then," she asked, her voice lilting with apparent innocence, "does this mean you can never… be with a man?"

 The words hung in the air, heavier than they had any right to be. Across the table, the general's sharp eyes flickered toward Rhaine, his expression unreadable but attentive. Rhaine noted the reaction but dismissed it, her focus remaining on the princess.

 "Yes," Rhaine answered simply, her tone clipped, as though the question were of little consequence.

 The queen, who had remained silent until now, leaned forward, her regal poise giving way to a flicker of genuine curiosity. "But then," she inquired, "how does your lineage continue? Surely the Saintess must have a successor to carry on your sacred duty."

 Rhaine's gaze shifted to the queen, her expression calm yet unyielding. "Our customs allow an elder to choose a worthy man when the time comes," she explained. "The man offers his seed, and if a daughter is born, she is taken into the fold as the next Saintess. The man's role ends there, as it must. Emotional attachments are forbidden."

 The queen's brow furrowed, her mouth opening as if to speak, but she hesitated, glancing at the king. When her husband said nothing, she pressed on, unable to contain her intrigue. "But surely the man… does he not remain with you? Does he not—"

 "Evalyn," the king interrupted, his voice sharp, though his expression remained composed. "I think this is a sensitive matter best left undiscussed."

 The queen flinched slightly at his tone but nodded, retreating into silence. Rhaine, however, caught the glimmer of something cold in the king's eyes as he turned back to his meal, his disinterest as deliberate as his earlier probing.

 Across the table, the general's gaze lingered on Rhaine, his expression unreadable yet intense. Though he said nothing, there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something almost akin to unease, though it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

 Meanwhile, the princess, seated beside her parents, wore a smile that didn't reach her eyes. Her fingers toyed idly with her knife, her gaze flitting between Rhaine and the general with a dark glint of satisfaction. She reclined in her chair, her expression softening into something dangerously sweet as she spoke again.

 "So," the princess said, her voice carrying a note of mock sincerity, "you live a life of duty, untouched by desire or love. How… noble of you. I suppose that makes you immune to the whims of the heart?"

 Rhaine met the princess's gaze, her own expression unreadable. "Duty is a choice, Your Highness. One I accepted long ago. The whims of the heart are… irrelevant."

 The princess's smile widened, her eyes gleaming with a quiet triumph. Across the table, the general's jaw tightened, though he said nothing. His silence, however, spoke volumes, and Rhaine couldn't help but wonder if he had caught the undercurrent of venom in the princess's words.

 The king clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention. "Enough of such dreary topics," he declared, his voice light but his eyes still fixed on Rhaine. "Let us enjoy our meal. There will be time enough for discussion later."

As the meal drew to a close, a growing unease gnawed at Rhaine. Her appetite long dulled by the subtle, almost predatory gazes of the royals, and she knew she had to tread carefully. With measured composure, she addressed the king, her voice steady but soft enough to convey deference. "Your Majesty, if it would not be too much to ask, I wish to explore your kingdom. I have heard its diverse array of herbs and flowers, many of which are said to be rare, even sacred. With your permission, I would like to study them, as part of my duties to heal and serve."

 The king paused, swirling the last of his wine in his goblet as his lips curled into a faint smirk. His gaze settled on her, sharp and calculating, as if dissecting the true intent behind her request. He leaned back in his ornate chair, fingers tapping lightly against the armrest.

 "You are, of course, welcome to explore the kingdom, Saintess," he said, his tone deceptively warm. "Eldora's lands are vast, and its beauty unmatched. However…" His smirk deepened, his voice taking on a condescending edge. "I insist that my General accompany you at all times. It would be remiss of me to let our esteemed guest wander unguarded. After all, we wouldn't want you to… lose your way."

 Rhaine's jaw tightened ever so slightly, though her expression remained serene. She knew what he was doing. This wasn't a gesture of protection—it was a leash. The General would serve as both her shadow and her watchman, reporting her every move back to the king.

 Before she could respond, the General, who had been silent for most of the meal, inclined his head toward the king. "As you command, Your Majesty," he said, his deep voice calm yet resolute. His gaze briefly flicked to Rhaine, unreadable but heavy, before returning to the king. "I shall ensure the Saintess is well-accompanied and safe."

 Rhaine met his gaze for the barest of moments, her own expression as blank as a mask. "Your Majesty, you are most gracious," she said with a slight bow of her head. "I am deeply honored by your concern for my safety."

 The king chuckled, the sound low and amused, as though he found her response entertaining. "Indeed. My kingdom is a treasure, Saintess, and I would not have any harm come to you while you are under my care." His tone was honeyed, but the underlying menace was unmistakable.

 Across the table, the princess's expression shifted into something sharp and smug, her fingers playing idly with the stem of her wineglass. "The General is an excellent choice," she said sweetly, her gaze darting between Rhaine and Kaelion. "No one is more capable—or more vigilant."

 Rhaine inclined her head toward the princess, her movements slow and deliberate, though she made no effort to respond. Her mind was already racing, calculating how she would maneuver through this unforeseen obstacle. The General's presence would complicate things, but she could not let it derail her mission.

 As the servants began to clear the table and the royals rose from their seats, the king approached her, his imposing frame casting a long shadow. "Enjoy your time in Eldora, Saintess," he said, his voice low and conspiratorial. "I trust you will find our lands… enlightening."

 She offered a polite nod, her hands folded neatly before her, though the tension in her shoulders betrayed her unease. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I shall do my utmost to honor your kingdom's hospitality."