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“What do you want?” I sigh and run a hand over my head.
My father clears his throat.
“Son, we’ve come to have a word with you.”
“Good, there’s something I need to ask you about.”
They close the door behind them and take a seat as I pick up everything from the floor. When ready, I draw myself up and look them in the eye. My mother’s eyes are slightly red, causing me to wonder if she’s been crying, a sight I’ve never seen before.
“I was sent an official invitation to my own damned wedding, which I now find out is taking place tomorrow,” I grunt. “Can you explain that?”
“Vippera requested to have the ceremony tomorrow.”
My chest tightens with pain, not physically but emotionally, as though someone has reached inside and is gripping my heart. I swallow and take a deep breath to maintain my composure.
“Did neither of you think to consult me so I could have my say? Not even to send a servant? I’ve to find out through a damned letter.”
“Son, enough of your attitude,” hisses my father. “First, Vippera said she would inform you. Second, we know what you want. Quite frankly we’re just about done with you wanting to neglect your duties as heir to the throne.”
My body shakes as I pinch my nose.
“So you’re telling me that you’ve given no more consideration to what I told you about yesterday?”
“No, Vippera has been the voice of reason through all of this.”
“That’s… just messed up.”
My father waves off my concerns and leans in.
“Listen, The Hunt ceremony will be going ahead tonight.”
“Tonight!” I retort.
“Yes,” says my mother. “Have you forgotten that The Hunt always takes place the night before the wedding?”
I look away for a moment, clenching my fists. The Hunt had slipped my mind.
“Is that all you came here for?”
“Zalith,” my mother says with a sigh. “We want to help you.” Her lips begin quivering as a sudden wave of tears cascades down her cheeks. It’s the first time in my life I’ve seen her show such emotion.
The lust for vengeance grows inside of me, knowing this all leads back to Vippera. My father takes my mother’s hands in his, stroking them as she sobs. Although they think of me differently, I still can’t help but feel bad for my mother.
“Son, whatever’s going on with you needs to be fixed before the wedding,” my father tells me in a stern tone.
“If you wish to help me, then listen to me,” I reply calmly.
My mother looks up.
“Let our boy talk.”
“Very well,” sighs my father. “You may speak.”
“Vippera has gotten to the both of you, but I cannot blame you for her getting into your head. She is a master manipulator, and she is after one thing and one thing only. That is the throne.”
“Not this again…”
“You said you would listen!”
