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A few moments of silence pass. “That was a huge fail, Captain,” Aiden says, A single raised eyebrow relaying my thoughts at his obvious conclusion.
“A huge fail,” I return, clapping him on the shoulder. She got through me, in more ways than one.
My amusement turns to icy determination. “Now that we know what she looks like, let’s go catch us a thief.”
10
The Princess
Theevening’seventsarepassed in almost complete silence, except for the lone member of the kitchen staff who saved us from the heat of the night with a sweet, fruit infused drink. Roan stumbles onto the balcony just as my parents move to start without him.
Aunt Margaret gives an annoyed huff, dramatically folding her arms to further relay her distaste for the delay.
Roan smiles in response to her unhappy sentiment, turning toward my parents and each of us in turn. “Apologies, King Cassus, Queen Amelia, Lady Margaret, Princess Lena. There was a matter that needed attending to.” He shuffles to my side, his hair disheveled and clothes tousled.
“We understand,” my father says, weariness having a constant pull at his features.
Roan plants his feet by my own, his arm brushing up against my mine. “Late? It’s so unlike you,” I whisper nudging him gently with my elbow.
The corners of his mouth tick up ever-so-slightly. “You know how I love to make an entrance.”
“Is everything… ok?” My eyes flash to his, trying to read any hint of what he’s not going to tell me.
“It is.” His lips are a firm line, his muscles tense.
He releases a heavy breath before gently taking my arm and weaving it through his own. I try not to flinch as he touches me. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do, of course, to take my arm in his. A few years ago I wouldn’t have batted an eye at the gesture. But now? Everything we’re supposed to be to each other, betrothed and soon married— it’s strange to associate my friend as anything other than, well, a friend.
“You look beautiful in green,” he adds, his face softening as he takes in my appearance. My dress is simple yet elegant, as Mother likes to say. The neckline follows the curves of my chest, framed neatly by thin straps that lay just off my shoulders. The full skirt flows to the ground, a few large pleats adding texture to the smooth, lightweight fabric.
“A drink, sir?” says a servant walking from the far corner, holding up a tray to Roan, a lone cup resting on its shiny surface.
Roan eyes the tray. “I think the princess should go first, don’t you?” The woman's eyes go wide.
“We already had our refreshment, Captain Montgomery. While we were waiting.” I give as pleasant a look as I can muster, trying to unburden any guilt he might feel toward his lateness.
He nods his head. “Ah. Of course.” He turns to the woman. “Thank you, miss. But I’m not thirsty.” The woman continues to hold the tray up. Perhaps she doesn’t understand.
“It’s ok. You can take it away. Let whomever prepared it know it was delicious,” I say, motioning her dismissal. She looks at me, seemingly flustered at his refusal. But after a few moments the servant simply nods, lowering the tray away and taking her place back in the corner.
My parents light the ceremonial lanterns, a thousand more dotting the ground below us in response. Roan bends down to our own with a long match, setting the wick inside ablaze and handing it to me before I release it into the abyss of the dark sky. My hands shake as I let it go, the tremor reaching through my arms and to my heart.
My friend stands beside me as we watch it float away. I dare a glance up to his face as the flickering glow trails through the sky. Flecks of dirt and pieces of twigs scatter throughout his hair, a brown smudge settled across his cheek. His lateness and somewhat haggard appearance leaves me with so many questions. I want to press him further about where he’s been, but I know he will simply shrug and tell me not to worry. It seems nobody wants to speak the truth to me anymore. Not even Roan.
A tear escapes the corner of my eye. That single droplet holds so much— my stinging resentment of the role I must play in my brother’s absence, as well as the sadness in those peaceful, floating lights as they disappear high into the darkness one by one.I don’t want to do this.Please don’t make me do this.
I miss you.
My thoughts quietly thunder by, drifting alongside the subtle glow of lights as they weave through the inky sky.
I look at each of the stilled faces standing on the balcony.Are you enraptured by the beauty Mother, or frozen with grief and regret? Do you enjoy the beauty this night represents Aunt Margaret, or do you dread it each year as I do? Father, do you secretly wish he were here instead of me?The last thought throws me out of my internal reverie.I know better than to ask questions I don’t want to know the answers to.
We file off the balcony and back into the palace one at a time, our masquerade of indifference coming to a close as the last lantern disappears. Our family prefers to grieve in private, managing this day each year and its meaning in our own ways. Not even Lady Davenport from Fort Kotar and her daughters were invited to light the lanterns on the top balcony, instead sending theirs from their own private landing from the floor below.
My parents turn down the king’s corridor, leaving Roan, Aunt Margaret, and myself to continue down the hallway toward my room. A wave of dizziness overwhelms me, threatening to pull me down. I reach out to the wall beside me, steadying my feet before it passes as quickly as it came.
“Lena. Are you alright?” Roan’s deep voice curls around me. My aunt wraps a hand around my shoulder, peering around to glimpse at my condition. I’ve always been a little annoyed at the fuss, everyone dropping everything to be at my beck-and-call. But tonight it feels unbearable.
I turn to face them both. “I can find my own way. Everyone must be tired and eager for bed. No need to hold my hand the rest of the way.”
