The food had already been served when I returned to my seat, each plate arranged with what I assumed was meant to be elegance. The meats were glazed in thick, glossy sauces that clung like varnish, and the vegetables were stacked in neat layers, drenched in seasoning until they were barely recognizable. It might have been considered fine dining here, but to me, it looked like an overambitious medieval cookbook come to life. My appetite, already shattered by Thalia's little demonstration, wasn't returning for the meal in front of me.
I picked up my utensils slowly, watching how the others held theirs. Silver knife in the right, fork in the left. Or was it reversed? No one was looking directly at me anymore, but I had no doubt every movement I made was being cataloged and judged. I mirrored Mirelle's grip as best I could. She had the kind of poise you'd expect from a girl who probably came out of the womb knowing five different ways to poison a rival without staining her gloves.
Across the table, Alric cut a slice of something pink and tender. He looked up and caught my eye briefly. He gave a faint smile, but I couldn't parse the intentions behind it.
Thalia ate with precision, each motion efficient and practiced, like a soldier trained to finish her meal quickly without appearing rushed. Her movements were controlled and refined, but there was no flourish or extra elegance. Just purpose.
The king hadn't said another word since dismissing Thalia's outburst, simply eating the food presented to him politely.
I finally took a bite, and the flavors hit hard. It was good, surprisingly good. The sauces and spices were a bit chaotic, thrown together without the balance or subtlety a modern chef might strive for, but the ingredients themselves were something else entirely. Each one had a depth I couldn't place, like there was a sixth flavor layered into the food, something beyond sweet or savory. Whatever it was, it hooked me immediately.
Almost the moment I set my utensils down on the empty plate, a servant swept in and removed it with practiced ease before vanishing just as quickly. The movement was so sudden I nearly flinched, but managed to restrain myself to a subtle twitch. Judging by the flicker of amusement on Mirelle's face, my effort had been for naught.
"Father, the operation on the Vatapi Plains has exceeded expectations," Alric declared, voice sharp and eager. "We secured a forward outpost before the blood of those demons had even dried. With control of that ground, we now hold a strategic vantage. It gives us the reach to coordinate defenses, intercept enemy movements, and disrupt incursions long before they threaten the border."
He launched into his report so fast, I half-wondered if he had been holding it in, just waiting for the clink of my fork hitting the silver plate. Weren't there supposed to be more courses... And dessert...
"Indeed. With Auremath agreeing to a union of our families, we can now dedicate unprecedented resources toward securing the North," Thalia said, her voice cool and measured as she entered the conversation.
So that's how the peace was sealed. An arranged marriage. Predictable, really. But which one of us is getting married?
"I must admit, it was no small feat," Alric added, his tone carrying just a touch of admiration. "Convincing them to agree to a union with our youngest was impressive."
Youngest.
There was a pause.
Then I noticed it. Every gaze at the table had shifted slightly in my direction.
Wait. Youngest? And they're looking at me?
My expression must have given me away, because Mirelle let out a soft, amused snicker.
"I do believe the two of you have just broken the news to our dear Darian in the most uncouth way imaginable," she said, clearly entertained. "Do try to remember he has been ill these past few days. I very much doubt he's heard a word about the arrangement until now."
"Come now, Darian. You cannot let such a small illness keep you from your duties." Alric let out with a deep sigh that I couldn't help but feel was to emphasize my mistake to the family.
"Apologies, but I wouldn't exactly call my illness small." Honestly, I'd been fully prepared to just lie there and die. "If I had a proper number of servants, I imagine I'd have been informed."
I hadn't meant to push back, not really. The words just slipped out, like something in me insisted on defending myself. Maybe Darian was still lurking somewhere in my subconscious. If so, might I suggest brushing up on reading comprehension instead of steering me into sibling skirmishes I don't even know the rules for?
"Is that even something you're allowed to complain about," Thalia said coolly, "after throwing out every servant yourself? No one else is to blame for your insufferable nature. This behavior will need to be corrected before you're introduced to Princess Thalindra."
The glare she gave me was so sharp I wished I could redirect it to the original Darian—since, frankly, I agreed with her—but unfortunately, I was the one stuck holding the bag.
"Is it not a servant's job to properly serve their lord?" I replied, a little proud of myself for managing a response that sounded sharp without being overtly disrespectful.
Unfortunately, my mouth didn't stop there.
"Or has the royal family's standard fallen so low that we've begun making excuses for mediocrity?"
Damn it, Darian.
"Darian, speak truth and be heard. If your servants fail to understand their lord, then they have failed in their charge. That is their burden to bear."
"But do not mistake their failure for your success. The peace your sister has wrought is fragile, and your conduct threatens its foundation. You are not king. You will learn to bend."
I bowed my head once more, feeling the weight of his words settle like iron on my shoulders.
The king continued, voice steady. "Both Alric and Thalia have served admirably. You are to be commended for your deeds. We will speak of your rewards at a more appropriate time."
He turned his gaze. "Mirelle, I am told your research progresses well. Do you agree?"
"Yes, Father. We are close to a breakthrough in our latest work," Mirelle answered, her tone even. But beneath that polished surface, there was something tight, something strained. "You may look forward to an announcement party detailing the results in the near future."
It was clear the weight of being overshadowed was beginning to show. I also noticed the way she skirted the details, her reluctance to share more at the table clear.
"And Darian, your studies have fallen short of what is expected. With your engagement now set, you will apply yourself with renewed discipline. We will speak of the structure for your education tomorrow. You will not falter in this."
A flush of embarrassment crept up my neck, part mine, part borrowed. So much for my frantic crash course in the study. Even the stubborn flickers of protest I'd come to associate with Darian's lingering presence went silent at the king's rebuke. Not a spark of defiance. Nothing.
I get it, Darian. That man is terrifying.
At the king's final word, he rose from his seat. The rest of my siblings followed suit without hesitation. A simple nod from him was all it took to dismiss us.
We dispersed quickly, and to my immense relief, none of them followed me. My nerves were frayed, my stomach a tight knot of tension, and all I wanted now was to disappear into solitude.
Just outside the doors, Ella was waiting.
"Y-you're back, Highness," she said, dipping into a quick curtsy. "If… if it pleases you, I'll escort you to your chambers now."
I gave her a weary nod and followed, unsure whether to speak or just keep putting one foot in front of the other. My head was buzzing with names, expectations, and one extremely important engagement I was apparently at the center of.
We moved through quieter halls this time, dimmer and less decorative than the path we arrived from. Still regal, but less interested in impressing anyone. The walls here were hung with older tapestries: scenes of battle, of mourning, of gods standing in judgment over men. I wonder if these gods had anything to do with me being here?
We reached my room, with Ella opening the door so I could enter.
"W-would you… um, would you like some tea before bed, Your Highness?" Ella asked, hands fidgeting lightly with her sleeves. A part of me wonders if she is a new servant, or if Darian particularly enjoyed how poorly she was able to hide her discomfort.
"No, the water pitcher will do. I intend to rise early, so make sure you wake me at first light. The king may summon us tomorrow as well, so be prepared. That will be all."
Ella gave a quick bow and slipped out, closing the door softly behind her.
Finally, I was alone. I sank into the nearest chair, letting the tension melt out of my limbs. Strangely, I felt more at ease than I had even in the bath. There was nothing left to do tonight but sleep, and that thought alone was comforting.
But the comfort didn't last.
The future loomed over me like a storm cloud. An engagement I'd just found out about. Siblings who either pitied or despised me. A world full of magic I didn't understand. And a subconscious hitchhiker named Darian who kept steering me into disaster. This wasn't a dream. The way everyone had spoken to me, looked at me, and expected things of me had finally settled in. I wasn't waking up tomorrow in my own bed.
The lingering taste of dinner soured on my tongue. Exotic, overwhelming, and utterly foreign. It felt like a final reminder that I didn't belong here.
My vision blurred.
I missed Ryan's dumb jokes. Natalie's relentless donor parties. Grace's constant barrage of "why" questions that used to drive me up the wall. I missed my bed. I even missed my clients, though maybe not all that much. Still, I'd take a tense budget meeting and a cup of stale office coffee over this madness if it meant waking up to the buzz of my alarm clock and the faint scent of overpriced fabric softener.
This wasn't home. Not even close.