Don't Test Me
1493 Words
Yvaine woke up with a start, her hand flew to her chest and she pressed it hard as if she could steady her racing heart.
For a moment she could hardly breathe. She still remembered the door creaking open and she could have sworn that someone had opened it.
She sat upright in bed, clutching the sheet to her chest, her eyes fixed on the door. She hadn’t imagined it. She wondered how she even ended up in bed again.
She exhaled deeply, let out a yawn, slid out from the bed and moved slowly to the window, resting her palm against the glass. Outside, the kingdom stretched vast, dark towers, courtyards, and distant hills. It was beautiful but her mind wasn’t there.
A knock landed on the door and Maelis entered, holding a cup in her hand.
"Good morning, My Lady. How was your sleep?" She asked as she walked across the room.
Yvaine opened her mouth, then hesitated. "It was fine." She noticed the way Maelis' eyes briefly looked over her but said nothing.
"You'll need to have a bath," Maelis said. "Breakfast will be served in the King's private quarters today."
She nodded and faced Maelis fully. Maelis lowered her head. "Did... anyone come into my chamber last night?"
"No, My Lady," Maelis said, raising her head for half a second too long.
Yvaine nodded. She wanted to tell Maelis about what happened last night, but bit her tongue. What would it make her sound like? That she had imagined things? That she was weak? And afraid? She could already imagine the questions, and the silent judgment.
No. A queen shouldn't ask about ghosts in her chamber. She couldn’t afford that. Not here, in a kingdom where eyes already sized her like prey.
She forced herself to stand straight, squaring her shoulders. "Let's begin."
The door opened softly and Yvaine looked towards it.
Rina bounced in with a nervous smile, carrying an armful of fabric. "Oh my lady, you're awake! I was afraid you’d sleep through breakfast.” She nearly dropped a gown as she hurried forward. “We have so much to do. You must look perfect today.”
"Which one shall we try today? You'll wear this silk." She said, laying the gowns on the bed. She giggled at her own words and darted about, holding up fabric after fabric as though Yvaine were a doll to be clothed. "Or this velvet, it makes you look like a moon. Oh, or —"
“Rina,” Maelis said sharply. “The lady doesn’t need chatter this early.”
Rina froze, pouting. "I was only — "
“You talk too much.”
Yvaine watched the exchange. Maelis' words were harsh and she noticed it by the slump of Rina's shoulders.
Something stirred in her chest. Rina’s chatter might be clumsy but it was the first touch of warmth she had felt since stepping into this cold kingdom.
"Rina," she said softly. The girl's head snapped up, eyes wide. "The silk will do." Her lips curved into the faintest smile. “And I like chatter in the morning. It makes the room feel less empty.”
Rina's face lit up while Maelis’s brows drew together. Yvaine couldn't decipher it. Was that concern or disapproval?
Soon, she had her bath and they dressed her up. Rina fastened the buttons behind Yvaine, clumsily. Maelis adjusted the collar in a precise manner.
“How long have you two served here?” Yvaine asked, gently.
Rina perked up. “All my life, My Lady. I was born in the lower courts. My mother worked in the kitchens. His Highness brought me here three years ago.”
Maelis answered only after a pause. “Long enough,” she said.
Yvaine caught Maelis' gaze in the mirror. For a moment, their eyes locked but Maelis looked away first.
"We're done, My Lady," she said and stepped back lowering her head. Rina followed suit.
"Thank you," Yvaine said.
...
The king's private quarters were smaller than she expected by palace standards, though “small” here meant high ceilings, walls carved with writings she didn’t recognise, and a long table that could have twelve seats but held only two.
The man she had married stood at the far end, one hand on the back of the chair as if he had just entered. His eyes lifted when she entered.
“Good morning,” he said.
“My Lord,” she replied, her voice was steady even though her chest was beating frantically.
She moved toward the long table and sat opposite him, in silence. He picked up his goblet. “How did you sleep?”
Yvaine cut into her meat, forcing her lips into what came close to a smile. “Well enough.” Then, she picked up her goblet, her fingers toying with its edge as she hesitated to ask him a question.
Then steadying herself, she asked. “Were you in my chamber last night?”
His hand stilled and his eyes flicked to hers. "No," he said firmly.
She nodded once. Then again, too quickly.
Some seconds passed and he leaned forward slightly. "Why do you ask?" His tone was softer now.
Her throat tightened. She wanted to tell him about the sound she heard last night in her chamber, the dark, the way she had been afraid. But the words stuck. If he knew she was afraid, would he protect her or use it against her?
So she stayed silent.
He looked at her for a moment, then returned to his meal.
A knock sounded and the doors opened. A courtier stepped in. “My Lord, Nolan has returned and he requests an audience.”
His face shifted instantly. It was the first time she had seen his face change like that. His mouth curved into a deep smile. And there, deep in his cheeks, dimples appeared.
"Send him in." He ordered.
Yvaine blinked, stunned. He had dimples? She stared a moment too long, unbidden heat rising to her face, before she snapped her gaze down to her plate.
Fool.
The doors swung open. A tall, broad-shouldered man stepped in, his presence filling the space.
She looked at him. That must be the Nolan.
“Brother,” the man she married greeted, standing.
"Brother," Nolan called.
They embraced hard, like men who had known battles together, their laughter low and rough.
Brother? Yvaine frowned. They bore no resemblance, so how are they brothers? But then, she realised she barely knew her husband’s name, let alone his family.
The man she married turned, gesturing toward her. “This is Yvaine, my wife.”
Nolan's gaze shifted to Yvaine for the first time. He bowed and his lips curved into a smile that Yvaine found disgusting. “My Lady.”
Their gazes locked. She couldn't name what she saw in his eyes. But her stomach turned. She lowered her eyes to her plate, stabbing into her meat hard enough that the knife screeched against porcelain.
“The roads were restless, but I have much to report.” she heard Nolan say to the man she had married.
They exchanged quick words. Yvaine sat there, listening without hearing. The voice of the man she married was filled with authority even as he tried to soften it.
"I'll share the rest after breakfast," Nolan said, moving towards the door. "Some things are better said without food."
He gave a short nod. "I'll expect you in the war room."
As Nolan reached the door, he gave Yvaine one last glance before the door closed behind him.
When Nolan left, the room returned to its silence. His smile vanished as he picked up his goblet.
Yvaine set down her fork, tilting her head. “What is your name?”
His head snapped toward her. "You don’t know?"
“You’ve yet to tell me.”
His eyes narrowed, then he said at last, “Kael.”
She nodded once and picked up her fork again, as though that were all.
The rest of the meal continued in near silence until Kael spoke again. “Tonight you’ll be meeting the court.”
Her fork stilled. “Why?”
“A public introduction.” He said with a casual tone.
Her lips pressed into a thin line. She chewed the last bite, wiped her hands with the cloth and rose to her feet.
The scrape of her chair filled the room like thunder. Still, he said nothing.
She smoothed her gown, lifted her chin and unhurriedly walked away. But before her hand could touch the door handle, Kael spoke.
“Don't test me, Yvaine.”
She didn't look back but the silence behind her was the kind that meant everyone in that room had stopped breathing. She could feel it.
She paused, her brows knitting faintly at his words, but she didn’t turn. She pushed the door open and stepped out.
- Writer
