Chapter 13
799 Words
The morning after the royal family's return, the palace felt tense.
Not because of the king.
Everyone was already used to fearing King Lodrick.
This was different.
The queen, the crown prince, and the princess were back.
That meant more nobles.
More guards.
More rules.
And for the slaves, more opportunities to be punished.
Elara spent the first half of the day hauling buckets of water between the kitchens and the servants' hall.
The work was exhausting.
The stone corridors seemed endless.
By midday, sweat clung to her skin despite the cold weather outside.
The castle of Valdren stood atop a mountain ridge, and strong winds often howled against its walls.
Today was no different.
Rain struck the narrow windows while dark clouds gathered above the kingdom.
As Elara carried another basket of linens through the southern corridor, movement ahead forced everyone to stop.
Guards immediately stepped aside.
Servants lowered their heads.
Even the nobles walking through the hallway moved out of the way.
Princess Lyanna was approaching.
Elara lowered her gaze at once.
The princess moved through the corridor surrounded by guards and ladies-in-waiting.
Her emerald gown swept across the stone floor.
Jewels glittered around her neck.
Everything about her screamed royalty.
And danger.
A young servant carrying a tray of wine hurried around a corner.
He never saw her.
The collision was small.
Barely enough to spill a few drops.
Yet the moment the wine touched Lyanna's sleeve, the entire corridor fell silent.
The servant's face drained of color.
He immediately dropped to his knees.
"Forgive me, Your Highness."
No one moved.
No one spoke.
Lyanna slowly examined the stain.
Then she looked at the servant.
The boy couldn't have been older than sixteen.
His entire body trembled.
"You ruined my dress."
The words were spoken softly.
Which somehow made them worse.
"Please, Your Highness."
Tears formed in the boy's eyes.
"It was an accident."
Lyanna stared at him.
Then looked toward one of her guards.
"Have him whipped."
The servant froze.
The corridor froze.
"Your Highness, please—"
"I did not ask for excuses."
The guard immediately stepped forward.
Grabbing the servant by the arm.
The boy began begging.
Nobody helped him.
Nobody dared.
Elara lowered her eyes as he was dragged away.
She hated herself for it.
But surviving in this palace often meant pretending not to see.
The moment the servant disappeared, Lyanna continued walking as though nothing had happened.
The stain on her sleeve seemed more important than a human life.
By the time the princess vanished around the corner, everyone in the hallway looked relieved.
Relieved simply to still be standing.
---
At the eastern training grounds, Prince Aldric watched soldiers spar beneath the rain.
Steel clashed against steel.
Mud covered the practice yard.
Rows of soldiers trained despite the weather.
Two knights stood beside the prince.
One served as his captain.
The other as his advisor.
Aldric's attention wasn't on the soldiers.
It was on a stable worker crossing the yard.
The man limped heavily.
Each step looked painful.
The prince frowned.
"What happened to him?"
The captain followed his gaze.
His expression immediately darkened.
"Princess Lyanna."
Aldric sighed.
The answer didn't surprise him.
"Again?"
Neither knight responded.
The silence was answer enough.
Aldric rubbed his temple.
For all their lives, he had hoped his sister would eventually mature.
Instead, she seemed to become more like their father each year.
"Send him to the healer."
The captain nodded.
"At once, Your Highness."
Aldric watched the worker disappear toward the stables.
A storm was gathering above the kingdom.
Not just in the sky.
Inside the palace as well.
He could feel it.
---
Inside the western tower, Princess Lyanna sat before a silver mirror.
Three servants worked quietly around her.
One brushed her golden hair.
Another arranged jewelry upon a table.
The third adjusted the sleeves of a new gown.
None dared speak unless spoken to.
Lyanna preferred it that way.
Her chambers overlooked the inner courtyard.
Through the window she could see servants moving below like ants.
Insignificant.
Forgettable.
Her attention remained fixed on her reflection.
Or rather, the man occupying her thoughts.
Commander Vaelith.
The memory of seeing him yesterday still irritated her.
Most men sought her attention.
Vaelith ignored it.
Most men desired her.
Vaelith barely acknowledged her existence.
The rejection fascinated her.
A knock sounded at the chamber door.
One of her guards entered.
Immediately dropping to one knee.
"My princess."
Lyanna didn't look away from the mirror.
"Speak."
"The commander spent the morning in the war room with His Majesty."
Finally, she turned.
"And now?"
"He has gone to inspect the northern barracks."
A slow smile appeared on her lips.
The guard immediately lowered his gaze further.
Even he knew that smile rarely meant anything good.
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