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“You look very fine this evening,” she said, changing the subject. “This will be a coming of age to remember. You will be the center of attention tonight, and I know you will be poised and graceful, and I know the Princess Rose of the Kingdom of Fang will be enchanted when she sees your official portrait. You are a very good looking young man, Sebastian. And I know Sokov will show you in your best light.”
For once, Sebastian regretted being so incredibly good looking. Not for very long, of course. The pleasure of knowing he was one of the most handsome men in the kingdom soon reasserted itself. He could not take solace in many things, but being attractive was one solid rock upon which he could anchor his personality and self-worth.
His mother departed, leaving him in possession of the portrait of the Princess Rose. Sebastian glanced at it from time to time as Sokov posed and re-posed him, seeking to create a series of still images that would allow him to paint a fine portrait of not only Sebastian, but the Princess Rose as well.
It was all very odd. The Kingdom of Fang was very far flung, not even a part of the Continental Kingdoms. It was a very strange thing for any royal in any of the houses of the Continental Kingdoms to seek a bride from such a distance. There must be some political motive at play, though he did not know what, for in addition to being kept from the world, and the soldiers, he had also always been kept very far from matters of state. He was a royal, and a prince, but in his gut, Sebastian knew he was nothing more than a pawn.
Once the master painter had his visage thoroughly captured, Sebastian spent the rest of the afternoon being praised and applauded for his beauty by a great many servants and staff, not to mention lords and ladies looking to ingratiate themselves with the now fully adult and entirely mature twenty-one-year-old Prince of Force.
Though he had previously been little more than a clothes horse, it was widely expected that the prince would begin to take more responsibility now he was of age and on the verge of marriage. There were rumors of various titles and lands in the offing, though none had yet been confirmed.
A general air of excitement filled the castle, as the many servants bustled about preparing for what would be the largest state banquet in Sebastian’s lifetime. Nobles and dignitaries would all be present, knights from around the Kingdom of Force all here to pay their respects to Sebastian, and the king and queen.
And then, all of a sudden, and finally, it was time.
Time for a lovely party.
Trumpets sounded a great fanfare. Making a bold entrance, Sebastian stepped through the grand dining hall doors and was met with obligatory applause from the gathered lords and ladies and other such royal hangers on. He drank the attention in, smiling broadly as he crossed the room, traversing the massive space along a red carpet laid out down the very center.
Resplendent in his fresh attire, Sebastian cut a fine, strutting figure. As he walked, he reflected on his many achievements. He was twenty-one. He was the sole heir to the throne of Force, and every single person in the room knew that he was a force to be reckoned with.
All eyes were on him, and yet he felt one single pair more keenly than the rest. They came from the front, from behind what stood in place of the throne itself, a royal dining chair carved with the motif of Thadecus Force, the stag.
The eyes were dark and intense, and they were locked on Sebastian with unrelenting focus. Even at a distance it was enough to make a faint blush appear on his cheeks.
Sir Lucan was standing on guard behind his father’s chair. Sebastian made eye contact with the knight ever so briefly, and fancied he saw the barest of nods of acknowledgement from the man. That little piece of perhaps imagined contact lead to a welling of excitement inside Sebastian that made his hands tremble. He was not nervous to stand before all the nobles and highborn of the Kingdom of Force, but Sir Lucan made him quiver. Did Sir Lucan remember that day too? Did he dream of it as Sebastian did? Probably not.
He took his seat three places down from Sir Lucan, followed in very short order by his father and his mother. Normally Thadecus would be seated in the middle, with his queen to his right and his son to the left, but today Sebastian had been put to the right of the queen, and one of Thadecus’ favorite knights had taken Sebastian’s place on the king’s left.
It was a small piece of placement, but Sebastian knew it would be noted for the slight it was. In court, everything mattered. Every look, every word, every action. Being the center of attention meant being scrutinized down to the very last stitch, and that was why a tailor like Devos was so important. He had not merely clothed Sebastian. He had provided him with the armor he needed to face the friendly enemies he found himself surrounded by.
