Episode 7 + 2 - I Can Save The King! Part Two
1001 Words
"I suspected we might need all the help we could get," I went on. "And I’m sure of her brilliance."
The lie left my mouth clean. Prince voice. Old command.
No wind behind it. No storm. No lightning.
Just what was left of me. Silk and nerve.
The kind of voice I used when I was seven and ordering guards to stand down. The kind that made people obey before they thought to question.
I could only hope it would be worth it.
Because if it wasn’t, we were both dead.
Ayla's eyes found mine. Questioning. Wide.
Like I'd thrown her into a river and told her to swim.
Like she didn’t know if I was saving her or drowning her.
She didn’t flinch. But I saw it. The flicker.
Her fingers twitched around Marucus.
Elowyn did not blink. She studied me.
Then her gaze slid to Ayla. Slow. Deliberate. Like she was weighing bones. Like she was attempting to get a suspect.
Then down to the herb in Ayla’s fist. Green. Glowing faintly. Impossible.
"That was fast," she said.
Her voice was flat. But her eyes weren’t.
"Yes. Faster than you think."
I shot Oliver a glare while saying that.
Let him hear it. Let him know I wasn’t blind.
Oliver looked like he could do anything.
His stare sharpened. It cut.
He’d been lounging against the wall two seconds ago. Now he was upright. Shoulders back.
Measuring me. Measuring her. Measuring the distance between us.
Icelynn couldn't believe her ears.
I saw her face go white. Then red.
She cut in before the queen could speak.
Fast. Too fast. Like she’d been holding the words in her teeth the whole time.
"She can complicate matters," Icelynn said. Sharp. Brittle. "A forest girl. At Union. With the king sick. With a contest in days."
Her words hit like stone.
Each one. Thud. Thud. Thud.
Icelynn took Ayla for a rival and she wouldn't let some girl in the forest take what she thought was rightfully hers. Me.
By finding way into my life. By standing next to me. By having the king look at her twice.
She just couldn't have that.
The air shifted.
Realisation dawned on everyone. That moment.
I could see it move across the room like a wave.
Levi's smirk went slow.
It started at the corner of his mouth and spread. Ugly. Knowing. He was in his element.
He saw it now. If Ayla was here on the heir's word, then the heir had chosen sides.
And he loved chaos. He was already tasting it.
Oliver's nonchalance cracked. Just a fraction.
The bored prince mask slipped.
Eyes on me now. Not bored. Measuring.
Calculating what this meant for the contest. For the throne. For him.
For me.
Ralph's mask went back up.
Instant. Seamless.
Humble seeming. Folded hands. Head tilted like he was praying. So convincing. No one ever saw him as the problem in the room.
But his gaze lingered on Ayla's fist. On the green.
On the thing that might save his father and ruin his plans.
His eyes were flat. Black. Empty.
Something more.
Elowyn's jaw worked.
Once. Twice.
She hadn’t looked at anyone like that in years.
"Then she answers for it," she said. Final. Cold. "If the herb fails, both of you do."
The words dropped and the room went silent.
I swallowed. I thought of possibilities.
My throat was dust.
The necklace burned under my cloak. Once. Hard.
Like it agreed. Like it was warning me.
The heat spread across my chest and I didn’t let it show.
Ayla's hand tightened around Marucus.
I heard the leaves rustle.
Elowyn knew better. She wasn’t stupid. She wasn’t merciful either.
"What do you want in return?"
The question hung.
Everyone leaned in without moving.
Then there came the bombshell.
She felt it leave me before she said it.
"I want a place in the castle."
Silence.
Then Ralph moved first.
He didn’t shout. He didn’t need to.
"I'm afraid that is impossible," he said.
Voice humble. Soft enough to sound like prayer. The perfect pitch of concern.
Eyes not.
His eyes were flat. Black. Fixed on Ayla like he was counting the ways she could break.
Like he was already planning them.
"We cannot allow that."
The words were gentle. The meaning wasn’t.
Icelynn followed.
She didn’t do gentle.
Sharp. Loud.
The sound cracked across the hall and bounced off the stone. It made Flora flinch.
"Effrontery!" she said. "You can’t be serious."
Her voice shook the banners.
It shook the air.
The room shook with it.
Torches guttered.
Flora’s breath caught.
Even the torches seemed to lean away, like the air had gone thin.
Like the castle itself was holding its breath.
Elowyn didn’t stop it.
She let it ring.
She watched.
That was worse.
Ralph stepped forward.
Head down. Hands folded.
The perfect son. The one who never raised his voice, never spilled his wine, never gave Elowyn a reason to frown.
The one everyone trusted because he never gave them a reason not to.
"You wake up one morning," he said. Soft.
Cutting. Every word placed like a pin. Into skin.
"Believing you can dwell among princes and princesses," he said.
He paused. Let it sit.
"On what ground. Who do you think you are."
He didn’t look at me.
He didn’t have to.
His words landed like stone.
Heavy.
Final.
Meant to bury.
The hall went quiet again.
But it was a different quiet.
Not shock.
Judgment.
The kind that comes before a sentence.
I could feel it on my skin.
I understood why Icelynn was against it.
That was simple.
She saw a threat.
A forest girl with mud on her boots and a miracle in her palm.
A girl with eyes on me, whether she knew it or not.
A girl who could take what Icelynn had been promised since birth.
She was scared. And angry. And right to be both.
But Ralph?
That beat me.
- Writer
