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The King had stood here when she’d seen him. Staring up at his youngest son. She’d assumed it was a portrait of Claude—from the King’s stance she’d assumed grief or anguish...
‘Are you coming?’ Despina called.
‘Of course,’ Beatrice said, and took the passageway that led towards Julius’s residence. It was bright, with the sun refusing to admit it was the end of summer, denying it as it shone fiercely, dispersing the tiny puffs of white cloud drifting above the glittering ocean.
Bellanisiá was looking exceptionally beautiful this morning.
Despite her smiles, and her seemingly easy chat with a colleague, it was killing her to leave.
‘Ooh...’ Despina said, halting and looking down on the central courtyard.
‘What?’
‘I’m not sure...’ She took out her phone. ‘Maybe nothing, but it looks like Princess Jasmine’s arriving.’
Beatrice frowned. Jasmine was often here, but she looked down and saw that she wore a silver robe and a diadem.
‘She must have been summoned,’ Despina told her.
‘Because she missed the festival?’
‘No.’ Despina shook her head. ‘This looks official.’
She was firing off texts and reading replies, and Beatrice now saw there were three men in robes walking at a pace across the courtyard.
‘Queen’s Teiria has left her residence too...’
There really was something happening.
‘It must be something serious,’ Despina said. ‘A death, perhaps...’
‘Or a wedding?’ Beatrice croaked.
‘No.’ Despina shook her head. ‘They wouldn’t be calling the Princess in for that. Oh, my goodness—this is what happened when Prince Claude died. What if the King—?’
Beatrice turned and saw Julius, walking with Tobias beside him. Of course he blanked her. Well, he was hardly going to stop and fill her in.
His face was so grey. And, terrible person that she was, now that she’d seen he was okay Beatrice was rather hoping for a funeral instead of a wedding. But, for her sins, she knew it must be otherwise.
‘Let’s watch...’ Despina said once they’d passed.
‘I have to get back,’ Beatrice said.
Beatrice wanted to be sick as she fled to the offices, only to find quiet chaos there. Jordan was opening a cupboard and taking a jacket out of a suit holder—clearly one she kept there for just this kind of day.
‘I was in the loo,’ Jordan said, changing her earrings and her shoes at the same time and almost falling over.
‘What is it?’ Beatrice asked, still guiltily hoping that Despina was right and she herself was wrong.
‘The scribes have been summoned...and the priests and masters...’ Jordan held on to the desk. ‘The Document of Intent.’
Clearly not even Jordan had known.
‘Now?’ Beatrice checked.
‘Tobias just called...’ someone said. ‘Prince Julius has asked for a closed room.’
‘So, not right now?’ Beatrice checked, because, oh, she wanted to be gone so badly. She wanted this to take place on Monday, or tomorrow, or at least a few hours from now...
