When suddenly I heard. "Adeline."
The sound of my name froze my hand mid-movement.
Slowly, I lifted my head.
The prince was looking directly at me.
Around the table, I felt the shift immediately. The other maidens had gone still.
He knew my name.
Even Lady Beatrice, who had been so eager to gain his attention moments ago, looked visibly surprised.
The prince leaned back slightly in his chair, studying me with that same unreadable expression.
"You seem quieter this morning," he said calmly. "What happened to the girl who spoke so confidently in court yesterday?"
For a moment, no one at the table moved. Every pair of eyes was now on me.
I swallowed, my throat tightening. Why was he suddenly speaking to me? Was this some way of reminding me of yesterday? How I dared to insult him.
I looked away for a moment, collecting myself, then met his gaze again. My voice was calm, even, carrying the respect I knew was expected, though not at the expense of my own dignity.
"Your Highness," I began, inclining my head slightly, "yesterday was but an honest answer to a question asked. I meant no disrespect, nor did I wish to offend."
A faint, almost imperceptible smirk curved his lips. His eyes glinted with something sharp, and calculating.
"Adeline," he said slowly…"do you not think… that sometimes it is far wiser to keep one's mouth shut… even when a question is asked?"
The words were polite enough on the surface, but the undertone was cunning, threaded with a subtle challenge. It was as if he were testing me, daring me to respond, or to falter.
I felt the weight of his gaze, cold, and my pulse quickened. I inclined my head, respectfully. "As you wish, Your Highness."
We continued eating in silence, the clatter of utensils was the only sound punctuating the tense atmosphere.
Throughout the meal, Lady Beatrice did not relent, her attempts to curry favor with the prince.
At last, the quiet was broken. A guard entered the chamber, bowing low before the prince.
"Your Highness, His Majesty has arrived," he announced, his voice echoing slightly in the hall.
A shiver ran down my spine. My heart skipped a beat. The air seemed heavier all at once, charged with a weight I could not place.
Prince Nathan nodded, rising from his seat with that same measured grace that seemed effortless, and walked from the room.
The rest of us remained seated, and I could not help but wonder what impression the king would make, if he would be as unforgiving and commanding as his son.
≈≈≈
Prince Nathan walked into the court where King Azai sat upon the lifted grand throne.
The moment King Azai saw him, his mouth pulled into a small smile.
"You finally thought of me, son," he said lightly. "After six hours."
Prince Nathan stood with straight posture, his hands resting calmly behind his back.
"I was taking care of something far more important," he replied, his gaze drifting everywhere but toward his father.
Azai nodded thoughtfully, as though he had expected nothing less. "Have you found your choice?" he asked.
Nathan's expression changed instantly, irritation creeping into his features. "You know very well I have not," he said, his tone tightening slightly. "And I do not see the reason for this foolish display."
"I already said it before, and I'll say it again… Anyone who survive the trials can take the position as the queen." he added.
The king leaned back into the throne, watching his son with quiet interest. "You want to put six maidens through horror, just because you failed to make your choice?"
Nathan scoffed faintly. "Yes, after all, they are all the same," he replied coldly. "Pretending to be gentle, pretending to be virtuous, pretending to be worthy."
Azai's brow lifted slightly, but he choose not to say anything.
"This marriage decision was all yours and never mine," Nathan said, his voice edged with irritation.
The king studied him for a moment, his expression neither surprised nor offended. "It is your duty, son," Azai said calmly.
Nathan let out a quiet scoff, turning his gaze away once more. "A duty forced upon me," he muttered.
Azai leaned forward slightly on the throne, his eyes sharpening. "A duty that comes with the crown," he corrected. "You will rule this kingdom one day, Nathan. And a king does not rule alone."
Nathan's expression hardened, though he remained silent.
"The people must see a queen beside their king," Azai continued. "Not merely for tradition… but for stability."
Nathan scoffed. "Do you have a queen?"
The moment the words left his mouth, the air in the court shifted.
Azai's face hardened, and the aura around him grew suffocatingly strong. It pressed against the room like an unseen force, heavy and oppressive.
Nathan swallowed and looked away. He knew very well that his father was the last person he should cross. The king's temper was not one to provoke lightly. But the man was being as hard as steel, leaving him little room to breathe.
For a moment, the silence between them stretched dangerously thin.
Then Azai's lips curled slightly. "Perhaps not," he said slowly. "But you must have one."
The king rose from his throne with quiet authority. He stepped down from the platform and paused briefly beside Nathan.
"You should go and prepare yourself for the royal banquet this evening," he said before walking away.
Nathan's jaw tightened the moment his father disappeared through the tall doors. His hands slowly curled into fists at his sides, the anger he had been holding back finally surfacing.
His gaze swept across the court. And then, he caught sight of a guard staring at him.
Nathan's eyes darkened.
"If you value your eyes," Nathan said coldly, his voice low but sharp enough to cut through the hall, "you will learn where they should and should not rest."
The guard stiffened instantly.
"My apologies, Your Highness," he said quickly, bowing his head and averting his gaze at once.
Nathan held his stare on the man for another moment before turning away, the echo of his boots filling the empty court as he strode out.