Dinner and Guest

The king order them not to wake me up? "It was the king's order not to wake you, but I thought you'd want to be awake," she tells me, and I looked at her puzzled. Why would he do that?

"When was that?" I asked.

"Early this morning," she answered. then he carried me in the morning, not soon after I fell asleep. How could he even carry me if he couldn't even see, given his arrival in a completely drunken state? Then, a sudden flash of last night's events began to sink in and all the anger from last washes through me; he carried the scent of another woman in that armor of his after pretending to be attending an important thing to sought out and merely apologized for his drunkenness, not because he meant it.

"My lady?" Bluebell calls out, assisting me with the towel. She appears shy, taking a deep breath to steady her voice before saying. "Did you and the king..." she whispers walking closer to me, her fingers gesturing subtly moving in and out of the other. I quickly cover her mouth to prevent further questions and dash from the bathroom to the dressing room, beginning to dry off. Then, I hear her sigh. "You haven't," she remarks, not entirely displeased but simply out of curiosity.

"He was drunk last night and needed some rest" i tell her which wasn't a complete lie if he was sobber who knows what will happen, no he couldn't he was just with a woman how could he have the courage to ask of me to...

"So, if he wasn't sober, you would have my lady," she teases, and I can't fault her; she's unaware of what's hidden behind his raccoon-like facade. "Tell me, my lady, what are your thoughts on the king? I mean, in terms of appearance, he's far more handsome than that old man, may he rest in peace. The king is much more attractive and possesses the power to protect you..." I listen to her go on about the king, but I can't stop pondering her earlier question: how do I feel about my husband? I realize I must forget and accept that I will have to share him for the rest of my life, but do I like him? Perhaps will I try, even if it might hurt me in the process. He certainly is easy on the eyes with his grand and arrogant air, yet he remains similar to William—unfaithful.

"He certainly is attractive and embodies safety, but my opinion is irrelevant as it's his decision to accept me or not," I whisper, and she promptly draws nearer, likely sensing my unease. It's not truly my place to determine whether I like him, and frankly, I am just another source of satisfaction.

"Oh, you needn't harbor such thoughts, my lady. Bonds form gradually, and both you and the king have endured grave trials in life, so it will take time for your bond to strengthen. And if it doesn't, well, you know what may come next," she said with a grin. Does she truly believe that fleeing would thwart the king's wrath should things ever escalate to such extremes? "And the king, he seems to be someone who understands people's positions, perhaps because he is a wise ruler," she mused, yet this 'wise' king cannot even respect a woman, a coward who fears letting his wife know her preferences are not to his taste.

"Why don't we hurry and depart for the Grand Hall to meet our guest?" If they truly are our guest, it is as certain as daylight that they are the king or related to him, given their skill at deceiving those around them.

"Oh, my lady, they will be in the king's study if you truly wish to meet them," not that I desire to. How shall I gaze upon that self-proclaimed Evan De Dione? Who do these royals think they are, barging into my room and lying to my face? It's the most outrageous thing I've ever experienced. "Is my lady frightened to meet that big twerp?"

"Bluebell," I call out, but the laughter I try to conceal breaks free, and I can't stop it anymore. Why does she always have a way of describing people? Why would she call him that? She's obviously joking, right? But looking at her now, she's clearly not. Yet, upon closer inspection, he really does resemble a twerp. "Now, now, Bluebell, we can't treat him like that, can we? And he's not a twerp; he's certainly a liar, but we need to refrain from using such words in his presence."

"It's not like I'll call him that to his face," she says with a shrug, beginning to arrange my hair. "How would you like your hair? Would you prefer it to match today's gown? It's a masterpiece of craftsmanship, chosen carefully to reflect the dignity and authority of a queen." The fabric was a deep, regal blue, shimmering softly in the sunlight, lending the gown an ethereal quality. The bodice, meticulously fitted to my form, was adorned with intricate silver embroidery that depicted scenes from the kingdom's storied past. Tiny pearls and glistening crystals, sewn into the design, caught the light with every movement. The sleeves, long and elegant, tapered to a point just past my wrists, with delicate lace cuffs adding a touch of feminine grace.

"Yes, please, but not too much," I tell her, not wanting to be overwhelmed with adornments. The necklace is so heavy it makes breathing difficult, and my waistbands are too tight. Yet, I won't complain; I'll get used to it since I'm the one who has to wear it. I notice a small smile on her lips; and it warms my heart. Her smile reassures me, making me feel fortunate for her steadfast support through all the trials in the duchy, never once fleeing. Truly, Celeste must have listened to those prayers.

"My lady, if you believe you cannot tolerate that deceitful man, why don't we attempt something different for a change?" she suggests, starting her wild idea, which I find myself compelled to go along with—he did deceive me, after all.

...

"The queen has arrived," announces a guard, and Bluebell leaves my side, whispering a reminder not to forget our earlier conversation. I nod, not fully agreeing with her proposal, but intrigued by the prospect of being the one to make others regret their actions for once. I enter the king's study after the guard assists me through the door. The king is seated in his chair; a man by the window halts his speech to gaze at me, while the other two in front of the king also turn their attention to the door. I face the lady at his left, offering a polite smile. The man from last night, stands and bows, but all I can think about is how to extricate myself from this situation. The king followed them as well, standing to gaze at me a bit too intently before letting out a groan and summoning me to his side.

"This is my wife Saltanat Breidenstein Heinrich de Dione" He introduces them, and as they bow to me, I simply lift my gown slightly in return with my leg bowing a little. Then, turning to Mr. Evans, I take a moment to gather my courage before meeting his gaze, which is marked by a wry smile.

"Does Your Highness recognize him from somewhere?" the lady inquired. I understood what she implied by 'knowing' him, but at that moment, I was pleased she provided an opening for me to initiate what Bluebell had suggested. I turned to her, offering a brief smile, before facing the man in question.

"Yes, Mr. Evans helped me carry some of my belongings from the library yesterday," I tell them, noticing the puzzled looks everyone gives me, including the king, who turns to me with a raised eyebrow. "Oh, yes, I was studying in the library when an incident occurred with my personal maid. After confirming she was alright, I returned to my chambers but couldn't find any rest. I was about to go back when Mr. Evans offered to help carry my belongings to my room." I tell him, pointing at the man from yesterday and bowing again in apologize, "I am again very sorry I mistook you for a guard last night. If I had known you were the king's brother, I wouldn't have committed such an awful mistake." His eyes widen with each word I utter, and he slowly raises his head to stare at the three confused individuals.

"Are you certain you're not confusing people here? How could he be the king's brother when the king has none? Are you not aware of that?" the lady asked with a scoff. I returned a puzzled look, feigning ignorance, and turned to the king, who continued to stare at me, seemingly awaiting an explanation.

"Perhaps, Your Highness..." the man begins, seemingly attempting to shift the blame onto me, but fortunately, the king intercedes, granting me the opportunity to explain myself.

"Why do you believe he is my brother, Saltanat?"

"Oh, he introduced himself as Evans de Dion, and since his name sounded familiar to yours, I assumed he might be your brother. I am very sorry for jumping to conclusions; I should have inquired more about your life before making such accusations against Mr. Evan," I apologized, attempting to conceal myself behind the king's imposing figure. Yet, I could still perceive the others' confusion, even as the lady left my side to gaze at her brother under the king's intense scrutiny. The room was now charged with an unwelcoming tension that made it difficult to breathe, as if his anger was drawing the breath from my lungs.

"Care to explain?" I heard the king demand, but my vision was fading, obscured by the strange smoke that was slowly enveloping me. The air turned frigid, a creeping cold gnawing at my bones and draining the warmth from my body. Invisible tendrils of ice appeared to weave through the room, coiling around me with an unyielding embrace. I gasped for air, my breath visible as mist in the suddenly chilled atmosphere, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't draw in enough oxygen. The experience was horrifying, as though an invisible force was compressing the life out of me. Darkness began to creep into my blurring vision while my body desperately gasped for air. Attempts to shout were futile; my voice was stifled, caught in the frosty grip. The room appeared to whirl, its walls inching closer as the chill tightened its hold. Instinctively, my hand scraped at my neck, seeking to rip away the unseen restraints, yet there was nothing tangible to seize or combat while I tried to hold onto the king cloak with my other hand to signal him i was in pain before slowly slumbering on the floor still struggling to breathe.

"Your Highness," I hear someone call, and the door suddenly opens with a guard barging in, perhaps also sensing the strange mist. I try to stay upright, but I could hear the king's voice calling me; it soon became a distant call. I fight to keep myself up, not wanting to appear weak, but it seems futile. I clutch the king's warm hands when someone says,

"You still get yourself worked up each time that name is called..." And that was the very last thing I heard before passing out.

...

"What happened to the lady?" Manta's voice slowly wakes me, but I am too ashamed to open my eyes. The king must be really disappointed with me; fainting out of nowhere and in the middle of a conversation is unbelievable, even for a commoner. And here I am, passing out when I promised Bluebell I would make that man's life difficult today.

"I wish I could tell you, but by the time I arrived, the king was already carrying her here," Bluebell answered. So, it was the king who carried me here. I hope I wasn't too much of a burden to him. Perhaps I shouldn't have acted that way today; maybe I should have just greeted him as if nothing had happened. Yet, I will still have to address him by the name he introduced himself with yesterday which will still have to end this way. Why did he feel the need to lie to me, of all people?

"Could you bring me some water? I think I got a little tired from running here," Manta asked, only making me feel guiltier than I already was. I heard the door open and close, signaling Bluebell's departure.

"You can now open your eyes, Saltanat. You can't stay like that forever; now open your eyes." How did she know I woke up? Maybe that's why she sent Bluebell away. I finally decide to sit up but just stare at the blanket, afraid to look up at her. She left her position just to look at someone like me, who fainted out of nowhere.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, struggling to hold back my tears. I know it wasn't my fault for passing out unexpectedly, but why was I the only one affected? I noticed the lady looking at me—not with concern, but still alert—while the other two hurried over. Yet, I was the only one in pain. What happened to me?

"Why would you apologize? You've done nothing wrong."

"I know but if I never fell over you wouldn't have to stress yourself over me I am just a waste of breath at this point" mother was right maybe I am the one behind Williams death and since the king is a strong person it hard for me to kill him thus killing myself is the only solution in that recent book I just started there is something about curses maybe I am...

"Saltanat, you are not a burden, and feeling exhausted occasionally is not a crime. I still work for you, so taking care of you is part of my job. Now, let's get out of bed and wash your face. You can't just stay lying around in this gorgeous dress; it would be a waste, wouldn't it?" she says, opening my dressing room door and pointing at the open space. I stare at her for some time before stepping out of bed, walking into the bathroom to wash my face, and then walking back out.

"My lady, you are awake!" Bluebell shouts as she spots me closing the door. Swiftly, she hands the cup of water to Manta and rushes over to hug me as if I had just been in a life-or-death situation. "Good Lord, you had us scared for a moment. Even the king couldn't conceal his worry; he's been checking on you now and then. You should..." she explains without pausing for breath, but Manta manages to cut off her rambling.

"Now, now, why don't you let her sit for a moment and give her some space?" Manta scolded, but Bluebell seemed not to care and still placed a hand over my shoulder, guiding me to where Manta was sitting.

"Do you want to eat something, or perhaps a drink? You haven't eaten anything; we should have you eat before dinner. Bluebell, make yourself useful and prepare her a light meal so she can hold her stomach until dinner," she said, not waiting for an answer, and instructed Bluebell, who also left without any complaints.

"You don't have to do that; I can stay until dinner," I tell her, but she just shakes her head, dismissing my earlier request. I must have really worried her for her to want to stay like this. Is she scared I will pass out again? She can't be serious. "So, how about the guest?" I ask, attempting to change the subject.

"After the king brought you here, he summoned them to his conference room, and that was the last we saw of them. I'm not sure what was happening, but the king seemed furious. Do you know what happened? Perhaps before you lost consciousness, did you notice anything unusual? Don't get me wrong, I just..." She attempts to explain, but I understand her implication, so I simply tell her the truth.

"Yesterday, I met a man who claimed to be Evan de Dion," I recount to her, noticing her eyes widen at the name. It appears that in the king's circles, this name elicits the same reaction—perhaps the king has a brother whose mention he dislikes, and that man used it to provoke him. Now, I'm uncertain if I was the one in control there. "This morning, during the meeting, I addressed him by that name, believing he was the king's brother. I admit my mistake; I should have been more informed about the king, but his claim was so persuasive that I didn't consider it might be a jest. Now, I fear I've acted rashly once more," I confess. She seems stunned, as if it's her first time hearing the name again. I step closer, touch her arm gently, and she snaps back to reality, though she's been absent until now. "Are you alright, Manta? You seem weary." Indeed, she is pale, and with a shake of her head and a forced smile, she tries to reassure me. Whether it's to alleviate my concern, I cannot tell, but it doesn't succeed.

"And what happened after that? Did His Majesty do something?" she asked. I know she's trying to conceal her weariness, but her hands betray her, trembling uncontrollably. Even the glass of water she's holding can't still its movement.

"That was when I passed out, but the king remained calm; I don't recall any outbursts from him," I explained. He was surely shocked, but he never displayed his emotions—perhaps he's adept at concealing them. I never heard any shouting or scolding either. "However, I did hear someone say something along the lines of 'you still get worked up or mad,' but it was just words, and perhaps I was hallucinating."

"It's alright; the good news is you're back on your feet. Now, let's focus on your meal schedule. You look like a corpse! How often have you eaten? Good Lord, am I failing at my job? You need to look presentable, not just for the king or guests, but for the future heir as well," she says, clapping her hands as if to emphasize her point but what she just said she can't be...

"An... heir?"