Avenged

♕ Chapter 2a

The following two days passed without incident and without any direct communication from the Crown Prince. Though, word had reached me that he’d figured me out — the fake me, not the real me. Soon I would come face to face with not only him but all the members of the King’s Council and their children. Not all their children, just those over 16 and preparing to learn the political game.

The last time I entered the palace, I did it so secretly, not wanting to catch the attention of anyone but the Crown Prince. But this time, I needed a moment to acclimatize to being home, to make sure my memories stayed where I needed them, safely locked away. Tonight, I arrived at the palace the same way everyone else did: by carriage and through the main gate. I tuned out the sounds of the trotting horses, their impatient whines, and the distant drone of music and voices as my carriage drew up the tree-lined and cobbled lane.

Despite it not yet being sunset, blazing fire urns set at equal distances up the long lane lit the path. Between them, pairs of royal guards were stationed, standing statue-still, their eyes never wavering from the point they chose to stare at. I knew they weren’t just there for show, though.

When my carriage pulled to a stop at the entrance, the well-dressed footman opened the door for me, allowing me to step out onto the red carpet-lined steps. My carriage pulled away immediately to make room for the next one in line. No more time to gawk at the magnificent palace that was once my home.

As I ascended the stairs to the large doors, I toyed with the dream of slipping in while the herald was distracted. That way, he couldn’t announce my presence to the leering crowd. I was bound to be a novelty; the girl they thought a distant monstrosity finally came begging for a husband. If only they knew the truth.

Instead, I waited patiently while the herald did his job.

“Announcing: Lady Ella Deven. Daughter of the Duke of Devendale, Warden of the West, and Master of the Air.”

I gazed across the tops of the heads of the now silent crowd. Every eye in the room turned to look at me, most with curiosity, some with disgust, a few with sympathy — again, not that I cared.

Where the traditional focus of the recent ball was a fun way to start the social season, the purpose of this dinner was different.

Only the highly ranked, influential, and most powerful fairies throughout the Kingdom attended this dinner. The purpose here was to work on business interests and discuss issues affecting every corner of the Kingdom. Our vast Kingdom was split into five regions: the Duke’s governed their own Dukedoms, but the ultimate authority, the ultimate power, lay with the fae King. His word was final.

I quietly observed the room while the remaining guests were introduced. Finally, the herald played a different tune, the one announcing the presence of the Royal Family. All eyes turned to the mezzanine balcony.

“All rise and give due reverence to King Elliot and Queen Arielle, first of their line and sovereigns of Kamir, protectors of the Kingdom! Also, be upstanding for Crown Prince Adonis and Princess Marissa, honorable heirs to the throne!”

The crowd cheered, I clapped politely and smiled broadly despite wanting to die on the inside. Tonight, his outfit most definitely befitted his rank. No, not befitted, flamboyantly touted. They were all dressed in royal colors, violet, and silver, with all the fancy trimmings. My family’s colors.

After another half an hour of watching the guests mingle, the Royal Family headed my way.

“I must say we were surprised to hear you came. The rumors all suggested that you were disabled, deformed even. But I see you are quite … comely,’ the Queen’s nasty voice rang in my ears.

“Thank you,” I laughed. That was not a compliment, but I would pretend that it was. The actual Lady Devendale became slightly disabled — not deformed as they say — in an incident caused by them during their attack on my home. In fae society, perfection was valued, meaning that anyone not perfect was considered substandard. That was something my parents were working to change before their deaths. It was something I would change when I got my Kingdom back.

Ella, the real Ella, was absolutely brilliant. Though her injuries had been caused by the usurpers, they actually had no effect on her genetics. Her children wouldn’t inherit her injuries, but they would inherit her powers and brains, both of which were formidable. This kind of prejudice had never made sense to me. So what if she limps and can’t fly as well as she used to? So what if she has a few scars? None of that shouldn’t prevent her from being a valued member of society. The concept is absurd.

“We have not seen you since you were very young, but we see your brother occasionally. Where is he tonight?” the King stated matter-of-factly, his eyes searching the room as though hoping Thorndon would materialize any second. In other and more polite words, the real question was, “If you aren’t disabled, why did they hide you for nearly a decade? And where is the Deven we actually invited?”

“No, Sire. It took me some time to recover from... what happened. That, and my father was very worried that harm would come to me after what happened to his brother’s family, so he kept me close.” Ignoring his second question, I acted nervous to stroke the King’s considerable ego. He liked his subjects to fear him. I fiddled my fingers and battered my lashes in mock innocence. I had not mastered how to blush on command, or I would have done that too.

A vacuum-hush quelled the room, and people glanced at the King, anxiously waiting for his reaction. The new King had worked tirelessly to hide his night of terror, though it would forever be burned into my brain, as would the night I escaped this place.

Despite all the preparation, all the training, and my outwardly calm demeanor, on the inside, I was still a knot of nervous energy. Had I pushed him too soon?

“They were traitors,” the King replied in a deadly monotone.

“Of course, my King, I meant no disrespect, and I apologize. But, please understand that as I was a child, it was quite frightening for me. I don’t even really understand what happened that night since my father never speaks of it. I would like to hear the story from you.”

“Humpf. I heard your father’s region has prospered in the last decade,” the King changed the subject, but not before I noticed a slight smirk twitching his lips.

“We are comfortable, my King.”

It was true. While this false King bullied his Dukes, drained the royal coffers, and drove the Kingdom to hardship, my substitute father, The Duke of Devendale, had done exactly the opposite, and our section of the Kingdom had thrived. In stark contrast to the capital, our people were happy, healthy, and wealthy, making the Duke a potential threat.

“Where is your brother? We were hoping to tempt him into an alliance with our Marissa,” the Queen drawled. She didn’t have an ounce of tact or the grace my mother was born with. My eyes shot to Marissa. And I beamed a smile at the same time I swallowed the bile rising in my throat.

“Oh, he would be delighted to hear that, I am sure. He’s been delayed with last-minute business, I’m afraid. He’s been so busy with his duties that he hasn’t had any time for a personal life. When we last spoke, he assured me he would be here tomorrow morning and insisted on still sending me ahead.” He would in fact, not be delighted to hear that the King was still pushing for that cursed arrangement. Three years ago, a palace messenger arrived, requesting exactly that. The Duke declined on the grounds that they were both too young, even though at 20 and 25 that was not the case. The Duke had no intention of allowing either of his children to marry into the viper’s nest. He wished that young people would travel and experience life as independent people before settling down.

“We shall have to invite him to dinner when he arrives,” the King mussed, his eyes on Marissa who was openly flirting with a group of young noblemen.

“Perhaps the night after tomorrow, you and your brother would join our family for a private dinner,” Prince Adonis intervened, giving his father a pointed smile. At that moment, Adonis reminded me a little of my father and his ability to soothe potential issues before they occurred, as did my mother. Master charmers until they were duped by those they called friends. Adonis had recognized that the Duke, a formidable player in the Kingdom, would be irked if Thorndon were invited to this family dinner while I was snubbed.

My heart clenched again. In his full dress uniform, Adonis reminded me of my brother Tiberius. They were always similar in size and were the same age, only my brother had blond hair and purple eyes, like me, a stark contrast to Adonis’ midnight hair and deep blue eyes. Still, I couldn’t help but feel that Tiberius would have said the same thing. It was Adonis himself that took my brother from me.