Chapter 9: Ch09: Salt On Open Wounds

I want to vomit. 

The atmosphere in the vaulted dining room was suffocating. The walls seemed to close in on me like they always did, and the air, although clean, seemed to clog my throat. But for the first time, there were no whispers about me or my cursed birth and origin. As of now, only the sounds of footsteps and the clatter of silverware could be heard as the servants walked in and out of the room. 

Today was the day of the luncheon where my father had invited the envoy of Eveothus. However, they have yet to arrive. “Be on your best behaviour, Cecilia.” My father said without so much as a glance. 

“I understand, your majesty.” I responded dryly. I could never call him ‘father’ like Cedrin does simply because I have never felt his warmth as a father. However, if the situation calls for it, I would be forced to call him by such a title. 

“It’ll be a miracle if nothing goes wrong because of you today,” Cedrin whispered beside me, but I did not respond to his prickly remark. 

Today was the only time I saw Cedrin after our argument during our mother's death. His days were different, full of princely duties like always. But because we were going to dine with guests of the Imperial Palace, he made sure to attend. Father was sitting on the middle chair, where the High King is rightfully seated. Cedrin, being the High Prince, sat right next to father. And I, based on Imperial customs, is seated right next to Cedrin. 

If mother were still alive, she would’ve sat right across the table, in front of Cedrin. However, with the death of the High Queen, the chair will remain unoccupied and covered with a black cloth to signify mourning and loss. The chair will only be uncovered if my father decides to remarry, a decision he probably wouldn’t make any time soon because of his lover. 

The three of us sit quietly on our respective seats, waiting patiently for the guests to arrive. Father looked straight ahead, his expression sombre. Perhaps because he usually dines with Ranlrein and he’s sad that he can’t dine with him today because of the luncheon. 

I heard from the maids on the way here that he tried to invite Ranlrein to the luncheon. But his lover was not of noble birth and was in no connection to the Imperial Family. Inviting someone who was of low birth to the luncheon where mostly royals and nobles gathered would only paint the Empire and the High King in a bad light. 

Cedrin on the other hand looked cold and expressionless. His eyes reflected no emotion as he stared at the silver spoon sprawled in front of him. He looks as though he was deep in thought, but he could just be thinking about nothing at all. After that rude and insensitive remark he said following father’s gentle reminder, he never opened his mouth again. 

I could never figure my brother out. Back then, he would cling tightly on mother’s skirt, hiding behind her as servants came and went. The gentle twinkle in Cedrin’s eyes that I used to see as a child was gone. Replacing it was hostility and anger towards something I do not know. Sometimes I find myself wondering what he went through in the main palace for him to change so drastically like this. But somehow, the thought of him being my father’s son does not stray my mind. Perhaps, he thought of me the same way as father does. 

A few more moments of silence passed before the doors to the dining room flung open, spewing out the nobles of Eveothus. Almost everybody who came into the room had their faces painted in worry; afraid that they may have angered the High King. In imperial customs, the guests shouldn’t make the High King wait, but because the people from Eveothus were people who had a very different culture, my great father decided to change it up a little bit.

I scanned each and every one of their expressions, but only three stood out to me most; the tall and lanky man trudging behind everybody else looked as though he was struggling to breathe. His face was pale; paler than the white marble walls in the Western Palace Halls. He looked quite unwell with his ragged breathing and his sweating forehead. It looked as though he would pass out anytime soon. I made it a point to remember how he looked lest he fall in the middle of the luncheon. 

The expression of Duke Derek on the other hand was intensely different from the others. Unlike the trembling figure of those who came with them, he exuded an air full of confidence and elegance. His eyes shined like the dark night sky as he looked straight ahead. And beside him was the man I was betrothed to, Prince Dion Edelvinn. 

When everybody else looked tense and serious, the prince had a bright smile on his face. His beauty shone like a flame and I was a moth, helplessly drawn to him against my will. He was like a finely sculpted statue, a perfect masterpiece of an overworked sculptor. His nose was high and his lips were plump, slightly rising up as the ends of his lips curled up into a smile. The dimples he was hiding showed, adding to his charm. And just when I thought I wouldn’t be caught staring, his eyes caught mine. And his expression brightened as though he was a child. I heard Cedrin click his tongue beside me, but I wondered if I heard it right. 

They stopped right in front of the long dining table and bowed their heads to pay respect to the High King and us, his children. Their voices deep and low as they uttered their greetings to my father before moving on to greet my brother and I. For a second, Prince Dion’s eyes locked on mine as he said my name, a smile escaping his lips before he stood up and fixated his attention on my father. I looked away, ashamed that I had been caught staring twice, but I could still feel his gaze land on me. And my cheeks heated up. 

“We are honoured to be invited to this luncheon, your majesty.” My father’s expression was visibly sour, but he rearranged it ever-so-quickly so that he looked as though he was only squinting. 

My father cleared his throat. “I sincerely apologise for the delay of the luncheon,” he said, eyes scanning the entirety of the table. “We were supposed to have this luncheon a long time ago, but…” he trailed off, clearly faking a scene. That he was very much talented in. 

“It is quite alright your majesty!” Some of the Eveothus nobles chirped in, trying to gain favour with my father. Not like that’ll do them any good. “We understand your circumstances,” someone from the far side interjected, his voice high unlike the others. “Had it not been for the incident, we would have enjoyed a more peaceful stay.” My head jerked up to look at the thoughtless man who spoke. My brother clicked his tongue once again and sneered at the man. 

I turned my head to look at my father, and just as I expected, he did not like what that man had just said. After all, it was a direct insult toward the hospitality of the Empire which was disrespectful to say the least. “I apologise for the words of this man, your majesty!” The man who sat beside him shot up, eyes trembling as he looked at my father in fear. My eyes wandered around the table to gauge how everyone was reacting to it and I landed on the prince.

My heart throbbed as our eyes met. He was looking at me. A smile crept onto his face as he held his gaze momentarily before he looked towards the man who spoke up. His expression changed in a heartbeat from bright to stone cold. I was taken aback by the sudden change in his demeanour. “Send this man away, please,” Prince Dion said, his voice cold and steely. 

The man’s face turned pale as he was escorted out of the dining room. “I sincerely apologise for his words, your majesty. We will see to it that he receives the appropriate punishment for that underhanded insult.” 

My father’s face brightened as he heard the Prince’s statement. “You do not have to make it very severe, Prince Dion.” His lips curled up into a smile as he picked up his wine glass and raised it up. “A toast,” he slowly said. “To your engagement.” 

With that little sentence, everybody raised their glasses in unison and repeated the words my father uttered. I glanced at Prince Dion whose attention was on me, with his blue eyes burning his gaze onto my face. I quickly looked away, feeling shy that I was being stared at. My brother scowled as he uttered the same words. A hint of bitterness in his voice as he muttered something I couldn’t hear. 

The luncheon continued as servants entered with the main course. A plethora of food came and went from the kitchen. The atmosphere was lively as my father and the other nobles chatted. The clatter of plates and utensils surrounded the room, accompanied by deep laughter. Only Cedrin, Prince Dion and I were quiet. Only ever speaking when spoken to. Every now and then, my eyes would catch Prince Dion’s who always stares at me so openly, as if I were some painting to be stared at. And whenever our eyes lock, his smile widens and he then turns his head away. A tinge of red staining his ears, one I think is adorable. 

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Just when I felt like I could smile openly, the doors to the dining room burst open, spewing out a figure I was all too familiar with. A face I hated to see the most. My heartbeat quickened and my mood dropped. 

“Did I perhaps interrupt something important, your majesty?” 

There, Ranlrein stood. He was still as sickly looking as ever, but this time, he looked to be much more dressed up. It almost looked like he came here intentionally. His eyes scanned the room as if he were looking for someone, and for a split second, his eyes landed on me before quickly turning to my father who was seated in the middle. His expression was visibly happier now that he’s seen his lover. “Who is this your majesty?” A man from the envoy was brave enough to ask. 

I turned my head to my father whose eyes were locked onto Ranlrein. His mouth twitched as if he didn't know the answer to the question. And when the man looked back, my father quickly responded. 

“Ah, this is my closest aide. Ran Vongery.” 

Ranlrein lowered his head to bow and when my father called for him, he straightened up and made his way to the left side. “You wouldn’t mind if he comes and joins us, right? He has lots of interesting stories to tell, I am quite sure you’d be entertained.” 

I looked around. But there are no empty seats left. Where are you going to put him? I wondered in my head. I wished they wouldn’t let him join in, but contrary to my wishes, the men from Eveothus gave their consent ending with the saying ‘they liked it when other people came to join.’ All while Prince Dion and Duke Derek stayed silent. 

Ranlrein, at first, declined my father’s invitation because he knew there were no seats left for him to sit on. But my father, my oh-so-great father, had decided on his own to break imperial customs. He ordered for the chair that rightfully belonged to my mother, to be removed of the black cloth and to be readied. My eyes widened and anger shot through my heart. I looked around to see if anybody objected, but even if they felt uncomfortable, my father was the High King, his word is law. 

My stomach churned and I wanted to throw up. There were a lot of issues tied to this. First, the chair was supposed to be my mother’s and only my mother’s lest my father found another unfortunate woman to marry. But if there was no such woman, the chair must be covered in black and should never be touched nor given to a person who is not the High King’s wife. And yet my father broke that! 

Second, the seating arrangement was far too absurd. Prince Dion, who clearly has a higher standing than my father’s commoner lover, was sitting on the seat next to the High Queen. And now that Ranlrein sat there, there is an imbalance of hierarchy. As if my father was advertising to the world that he is a sodomite. 

I lowered my head as Ranlrein sat on my mother’s chair. My hands were clenched and my breathing was ragged. I hated every single bit of this. Suddenly, the walls kept creeping in closer and closer. I felt like I was going to faint any second. I froze on my seat, caught between fury and reason. But this was the last straw. My anger won me over. 

“I would like to excuse myself, father. I still have a meeting after this.” Cedrin said, his voice cold and steely. No emotion could be heard even after that absurd display from father and his lover. I glanced up and I regretted it. My body shook, not in anger but in disgust. In front of Cedrin, Ranlrein was looking at me. His hand covered his mouth, but I could see it. The smile on his face as he watched me suffer. 

Who does he think he is? 

“I would also like to excuse myself and Princess Cecilia, your majesty.” My head jerked up and caught Prince Dion’s stony expression. “If you allow us, I would like to spend some time with my betrothed.” 

“I will take my sister with me,” Cedrin scowled at Prince Dion. But the prince paid him no mind and waited for my father’s response. Ranlrein, who was beside the Prince, had a puzzled expression, as if he didn't quite understand what was happening. But when his eyes landed on me, his expression changed. A smile crept up on his face as he tried to so desperately cover it with his hands. 

My father sighed and cast a sharp glance. “Alright, I will allow you to take Cecilia away, Prince Dion.” 

“Father!” Cedrin raised his voice. 

“Shut up, Cedrin!” My father responded, his low voice reverberated around the dining room. I flinched in my chair as I looked up at Prince Dion who was now looking at me with a tender expression. 

Cedrin clicked his tongue and walked out of the dining room. Whereas Prince Dion made his way toward me and extended a hand before whispering the words I wanted to hear so much since the start of the luncheon. 

“Let’s get out of here.” 

I stood up and took his hand into mine. He led me out of the dining room. But before we fully walked out, I glanced behind me, to Ranlrein who was sitting on the seat he did not deserve. His expression was unfathomable while my father pierced sharp glances at me. I turned my head away and I steeled my heart. 

Just you wait, High King Jehanel and Ranlrein.

I will show you hell. 

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