Royal Blood: Blood on the Crown Trilogy Book 1

A frustrated groan escapes from my throat as the sunrays peeking through the drapes brush over my face. I am certainly not urged to wake up today. I desire more hours of sleep but I know it is a pointless longing to have. When the sun rises, so do I. I stretch my arms above my head and yawn softly. I am still fatigued despite sleeping through the whole night. No amount of sleep shall ever feel like enough. “Good morning, your Highness,” greets my handmaiden as she enters my bedchamber with the new dress I have ordered. She sets it down on the edge of my bed and I meet her gaze with the warmest smile I can muster. “Thank you, Kylie.” She bows her head politely. “Is there anything else I could do for you, your Highness?” “No, that would be all for now. Thank you,” I reply with a shake of my head. “Kylie,” I begin as she turns to leave. “Do I have any important tasks to complete today?” I ask, my voice filled soft and hoarse with lingering drowsiness. “No, your Highness. All that is scheduled are your dance classes at fourteen hundred hours this afternoon,” she explains, giving me a polite smile. “Thank you.” Kylie curtseys before departing from my chambers and I let out a sigh of relief. After bathing, I dress in the new garment that Kylie brought me. It is a beautiful sage green dress with full sleeves and a neckline that stops just above the curve of my chest. I brush the dark locks of my hair out and twist them into a braid over my shoulder, decorating the strands with gold pearl braid clips. I lift up a gold necklace that was gifted to me by my mother, and fasten it around my neck. The emerald pendant rests just above the end of the neckline of my dress. I glance at myself through the mirror of my vanity before exiting through the doors. The two guards stationed outside this morning, Luke and Paul, bow in greeting at the sight of me. I bow my head to return the greeting and they escort me to the dining hall for breakfast with Father, as they do each morning. “Good morning, Father,” I greet, approaching the table with footsteps that barely break the silence of the room. “Good morning, Katherine,” responds Father, his head lifting from his plate to acknowledge me. I take a seat at his right and pick up my fork, my stomach rumbling quietly at the sight of the breakfast laid out across the table. “You appear well-rested this morning, Katherine,” comments Father awkwardly, his eyes drifting back to his plate. The compliment should have made me smile, but it sounds so practiced to my ears that my reaction can only mirror that. “Thank you.” The response comes out more rehearsed than I would have preferred, but Father does not seem to notice. Or perhaps he is not concerned enough to confront it. I bite into a croissant as he takes a bite of his own meal, and a silence filters into the hall—one that feels as if there was something that had yet to be said. “Are you prepared for your dance lessons this afternoon?” Father questions, a shallow attempt at breaking the tension. I nod, taking another bite out of my croissant. “You are becoming better with every lesson,” he adds more sincerely this time, making me smile with a sense of pride. “Thank you, Father,” I reply, warmer this time, before taking a sip of my tea to wash down the contents of my meal. The silence returns equally as heavy, and after a few moments I choose to break it. “Is there anything you would like to tell me, Father?” He visibly tenses at my question, causing me to regret asking. “Why would there be anything to tell?” he counters, raising his fork to his mouth in a practiced motion. That is normal for him. Everything Father does is practiced, like something he is required to do for days on end. “There has to be something if you cannot look me in the eye and tell me there is not.” I arch an eyebrow, locking my eyes with Father's before he can avoid eye contact. He lets out a defeated, audible sigh and sets his utensil down, indicating that the topic we are approaching is serious. “I was informed that you intend to go into town today.” “That has not been an issue before,” I point out. “Yes, but that was before. Now, however, word of your coronation has spread all throughout the lands. That would also include the land of my enemies. We can only expect them to take this as an opportunity to attack,” Father explains with a stern tone that I have become accustomed to hearing. A frustrated sigh escapes me. It was rare for me to leave the palace as is, and I do not enjoy the idea of being restricted to the palace grounds more than I already am. “I understand that, but is that not what we have guards for? Not to mention, I could easily defend myself if the situation called for it.” It takes a lot of effort to keep my tone calm so as not to disturb the charged energy between us. “I’m aware of that, but it would be recommendable if you remained within the palace perimeters, where you are safer.” My face reacts before I can control it, my lips downturned in a frown. “Father, I’m constantly in the palace.” My walls are slipping lower with each second that is spent discussing this. I can not help myself from revealing more than what is normal for me, though. My freedom is important to me—the little I had, at least. “I only wish for you to be safe, Katherine. I refuse to take any risks concerning your safety after—” “After Mother’s death?” I finish for him. Father’s face sours almost immediately, and it is clear that it was a mistake to bring it up. In my defense, I assumed that was the road this conversation was going to take. This is why making assumptions is strongly discouraged in court. “Do not bring her up at this moment.” My shoulders stiffen and my spine straightens itself. I knew that my mother’s death was a heavy topic—for both of us—but I did not think the topic would be unapproachable. “I apologise,” I rush to say, hoping it will soothe the wound I reopened. The grief swirling in Father’s hazel eyes dissipates slightly at my apology. I expect him to say something else—anything else. Instead, he pushes his plate back as if he no longer has the appetite to finish it. The chair scrapes against the tiled floor as he rises from his seat. “I shall ensure that you have at least two of my best guards with you when you leave.” Without waiting for my response, he exits the dining hall with heavy but urgent steps. “Thank you, Father,” I respond to the lingering chill of his voice that seems to thrive in the silence. I should be thrilled that Father has allowed me to leave the palace, but the guilt that came from unintentionally triggering unpleasant memories overshadowed that joy. When I finally pick myself up and exit the hall, Luke and Paul, who are still stationed outside, escort me back to my bedchambers. I retrieve my white cloak from where it is hanging beside my vanity, which has gold embroidery at the hem. I drape the fabric over my shoulders and fasten the clasp across my chest. From there, I am escorted to the royal carriage. Two of Father's best guards, Leo and Roman, are preparing the horses for my departure—just as he had promised. Perhaps I should get something for Father that would assist him in feeling better. That will surely ease the regret weighing on my chest and, hopefully, ease the sting caused by that day. I climb into the carriage, sitting in between Luke and Paul whilst Roman took the reins of the horses and Leo sat at his side. Another two guards are positioned at the rear end of the carriage on their steeds for additional protection. With a flick of the reins, the horses begin to trot down the pathway from the palace to the town. I stare at the beautiful green forestry as it passes by. I admire the birds that can be seen nestled within the branches. I shift my gaze from the earth to the sky, which is a vivid shade of blue. There are no clouds to be seen for miles, leaving the rays of sunlight with no obstacles to pass through on their journey to the earth’s surface. I inhale slowly as a ray of warmth shines across my face, serving as a distraction from breakfast and a reminder of the world that exists outside the palace walls. It is moments like these, moments away from the crown and its duties, that make each passing day easier to endure.