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Prince Saboa's residence was flanked by the two royal guards' wings on each side. These buildings housed the two thousand strong army of Cyrans he'd brought with him only fifteen years ago. Saboa was only a year past coming of age when he'd claimed Praldia as his with nearly no resistance.
To either side of the guard's wings stood the throne room and ballroom respectfully. It was well designed to set the Prince apart from the rest of the palats while still being connected. It also ensured no one could approach the Prince's residence without first passing by several royal guards. All the other habitation areas were on the opposite side of the palats.
On my visits, I'd only ever been to the ballroom for celebrations or the throne room to petition the prince, and waited in the courtyards outside. Both of those structures permitted direct access via walkways between the inner buildings to the public teleportation channels, so this was my first time walking the ring.
The flooring in both the throne room and the ballroom was Crystalstar. This near-translucent shimmering white crystal was mined here in Praldia, and was one of its top export minerals. The central ring was a dark grey metal-looking floor, but beneath the Commander's boots, it sounded like he was walking on thin, fragile glass.
Stopping, I stared at the flooring and the sound of its cracking beneath our feet. "I've never heard that before. I've always crossed the ring when there were lots of people around. I've never walked on it alone."
"We call it Is," Stark advised. Pressing lightly on my back to start me walking again, he watched me roll the new word around my mouth. "I believe in Avalonian it would be ice, Lady. It is from Cyra and prevents any form of sneaking around. It is throughout the King's castle in Cyra."
The king of Cyra was Saboa's father, which is why Saboa never assumed that title. When his father died, and Saboa became king, even if his eldest son were to take the throne in Cyra, Saboa’s heir would not hold that title until Saboa died and it passed to him.
"Why was the throne room so empty today? Wouldn't it have been better for Prince Saboa to have a few neutral ears in place in case he chose to execute me? That way, the Praldians would know it was justified?"
Stark didn't answer, just kept moving us forward into the alcove of the first royal guard wing. There were a few guards on duty here. They watched us walk by with barely-disguised interest.
"Commander?" I pressed when we were in the confines of the connecting corridor again.
"The prince was never going to kill you, child. Did you not wonder why he waited so long after your parents' execution to bring you to him?"
I had expected them the first day, though I didn't know what my parents planned, only that they were taken from their city residence. Then the broadcasters announced their conviction of treason, and every sound for the next thirty hours bore the royal guard coming to take my head. But they didn't.
By the second day, I'd concluded that Saboa realized I was ignorant of whatever treason my parents committed. Days later, the letter came, and I'd found out just what my parents intended. That's when I realized my innocence wouldn't matter.
"We were waiting. Watching to see if you fled, and, if you had, we would have caught you in minutes and brought you to him. The outcome would have been the same, but he would not have trusted you. The prince would have ensured there were witnesses to see your guilt then. But you did not run, did not contact anyone to try and safeguard yourself. You kept a low profile, like always, and answered the calls of the natives for assistance. It proved your innocence better than this letter ever could have."
Removing my father's letter from his pocket, Stark held it for me to take. Doing so hesitantly, I slipped it into the pocket of my dress.
"Prince Saboa was not scheduled to hold court today. No one but his personal advisors that he trusts and the guards I trust were present because he understood this would be hard for you, Lady Zira. You have lost your parents, and, for the time being, you have lost your freedom. The Prince, however, has lost nothing. In fact, it's quite the opposite for him. He is not cruel, Lady. He will not gloat while you grieve."
"Gloat? What could he possibly have gained from my parent's treason?" I stopped walking. We approached the prince's wing, and I wanted to hear what Stark meant.
Grumbling under his breath, Stark turned to face me impatiently. After a moment, his stern face cleared to a look of concern. "Your parents never told you?"
"About their plans?" I shook my head sadly. "No, they truly didn't."
"Before that? Your parents never told you about the offer of companionship?"
"What offer? No one has ever asked for my hand. No one has even courted me. Unless you mean that abomination who sits on my brother's throne, but that was hardly an offer."
Stark just stared, then rose his face to the ceiling and swore quietly before meeting my gaze again. "Lady Zira, since you came of age, the prince has petitioned your parents for you to be his companion on nearly a yearly basis. They always refused, stating that you weren't ready to take a companion as yet. By law, Prince Saboa was unable to force the issue, since our laws give the parents control until you reach adulthood at age thirty."
Staring at Stark, disbelieving, I had to force my mouth to work. "If what you say is true, why would they say no? They wanted me on the throne. It would have been the most peaceful way to get what they wanted."
"Because they did not want you joined to a Cyran. They wanted you on the throne so they could join you with a man of your own kind. They didn't want half-breed heirs."
Anger shot through me. "My parents were not like that. They weren't purists. They helped the Praldians as much as I did, and they loved it here. They admired Prince Saboa for the world he created and how he ruled. They were always singing his praises and discussing his rule over dinner in front of me. So don't you dare taint their memory with such ignoble notions!" I stormed forward toward the Prince's wing, but Stark blocked my way suddenly.
"You are a child." When I opened my mouth to argue, Stark cut me off. "You may have come of age five years ago, but you are not classified as an adult in society for seven more years. There is no way that your parents would risk speaking their treason in front of you for the reason that should be obvious. If they succeeded, you would take the throne innocent. If they failed, you would be untainted by their treachery.
"When your parents were executed, you, having not reached wisdom yet, instantly became the property of the throne along with the rest of your family's land and belongings. I was there, Lady. I watched the Prince tell them exactly what power they gave him with their treachery, and I saw the horror on your parents’ faces."
My hands were shaking, my legs ready to crumble, and my heart was racing in my chest. My voice came out weak as I struggled to control my breathing. My last thread of hope just snapped. "Prince Saboa is my guardian. I have absolutely no rights. Even if I refuse to sign the contracts, he can do so on my behalf with guardianship authority. He can use it to overrule me for the next seven years. I'll have no voice. I'm at his mercy."
ChapterThree
As my vision focused, I realized the room was full of windows down one whole length of the wall and then again above the bed on which I was lying. There were no blinds, so it let in the bright white daylight of Praldia's summer, shimmering off the Crystalstar floor and walls.
