Note: Duke Godfreed = Malcolm
Chapter 93:
The moment you’ve all been waiting for (1)
As Silas approached Eva, the knights began to announce the royal family, starting with Queen Racliffe and King Godfreed. Though the queen had aged, she still looked quite youthful. The makeup on her face was light, and her features were warmed under the bright lighting of the ballroom. As she entered, she stepped to the front of the stairwell, joined by her husband, donning a long red velvet cape. The guests clapped their hands at the king and queen’s appearance, graciously greeting them as Silas and Eva clapped their hands, their words contradictory to their actions as they spoke in low tones.
“You’re late, as always.” Eva said, smiling brightly as she stood next to a familiar-looking, light haired man. “But that shouldn’t surprise me anymore. You’ve met Edgar, I suppose?”
As the man turned to face Silas, his eyes widened momentarily with a strange pause before his mouth twisted into a grimace. The sides of his lips were pulled taut, as if he were trying to restrain a laugh. Eva shot the man a cold look, and he soon coughed and relaxed his face, as if the laughs had been taken out of him by Eva. Though, when he looked at Silas, Silas could see the amused ridicule in his gaze.
“Lovely dress, madam.” The young man, Edgar, could not help but say.
“I guess breaking that nose once wasn’t enough.” Silas said quietly, looking at the young blonde man. A bandage rested on the bridge of his nose, unable to hide the faint bruising around the man’s eyes.
The young man was unable to retort, as Eva gave him a sharp look to silence him before she turned towards Silas with a sauve smile she always possessed. She brought her hand up to her cheek, her black gloves contrasting against her pale skin. As Silas looked at her gloved hands, a tremor of sadness passed over him.
That’s right, Eva’s hands are horribly burned. That’s why she always wears gloves.
“Focus.” Eva said, looking at Silas knowingly. He nodded, biting down his embarrassment as she looked forward, “With some help, I found your family. They’re currently in the palace’s dungeon. Your siblings are well, and,” Eva paused for a moment, contemplating, before she continued, “Your mother is well too. Stay here and enjoy the party. I already have a team doing the extraction. We will be causing a slight disturbance later though, to ensure their safe removal, so be prepared to put your acting skills to the test.”
“Please don’t forget that I am always at your service, Madam Ivana.” Edgar said with a deep bow, causing both Eva and Silas to roll their eyes, “Do you not think I’m serious? My heart is so pained by this fact, I-”
As Edgar continued to rant about his heartache, Silas lifted his heel and walked back towards the duke, his stride light as he weaved through the crowd of nobles. As Silas returned to the duke’s side, Eva stared at Duke Malcolm, her lips flat, before she moved her attention to the queen as the last of her speech was delivered.
The queen’s short speech ended with a joyous note. “And with that, please join me in welcoming my son and the future of this empire, Crown Prince Clarence, with the woman he has chosen to help him lead our great nation.”
Once the queen’s announcement had been made, roaring applause vibrated throughout the grandiose ballroom as the queen was led towards her seat for the evening, led down the main stairwell by her husband and two knights as she walked to the right hand side of the ballroom, where four seats had been prepared. Queen Racliffe slowly lowered herself into the chair on the far left, gently resting as the train of her dress was carefully draped to the side of her chair by her maids. Her husband, the king, sat proudly next to her, beaming into the crowd, though it was hard to miss his pallor and discolored lips.
The announcement ball began after an introduction of each of the candidates, leaving only four women left to take the position of the future queen of the Yursear Kingdom.
“Announcing Duchess Ophira Carrillo from the Eastern Plain District.”
Ophira Carrillo was the first to be introduced. As the only Yursinean candidate, she was well received by her fellow countrymen and as she entered, her wintry green gown swept across the stairs as she began her descent from the second floor to the main floor. A maid trailed behind her, carrying the delicate train of her gown as she smiled and bowed her head in greeting, curtsying at the end of the stairs before she was led away to the side, allowing the other candidates to enter.
The next candidate was announced, bringing attention to the Queen’s home country as the few attending Maarit Country nobles beamed in pride, “Announcing Princess Philomena Lambros of Maarit Country.”
Next, Philomena entered, accompanied by her servants and a tall, imposing knight. Her power pink dress was sweet and youthful, matching the temperament of the young princess well. The gold embellishments were delicate and soft, matching the approaching winter season. Her long hair was laid around her shoulders, and part of her hair had been styled behind her head in a small bun, embellished with small white gems. As she stepped down the stairs, she glanced over the crowd of excited nobles, finding herself nervous.
“Announcing Sagara Naceri, Second Princess Sovereign of the Kyhmal Empire.”
Sagara stood tall, the gold color of her dress twinkling under the chandeliers. The gems inlaid on her delicate gown were colorful and sparkling, bringing an air of decadence and maturity to the second princess. Her dark hair danced in waves around her face and down her back, and the gem headdress she wore rested delicately around the crown of her head and her forehead. As she stepped down the stairs, she smiled and bowed her head lightly.
After Sagara’s entrance, there was one last pause before the final candidate was announced. The nearby nobles spoke into their fans, their faces mixed with shallow hints of surprise, shock, and some joy. As the final candidate was announced, it brought an end to the building tension as the final candidate stepped through the doorway.
“Announcing Princess Charlotte Dupont of the Bethell Kingdom, chosen fiancée of our crown prince and future king, Prince Clarence.”
The young princess stepped through the doorway in her full, Bethellian-inspired gown. The silk fabric was full, decorated with delicate threads and embroidered with vines of fabric on the edges. The bust and skirt of the dress were decorated with a printed fabric, bringing dimension to the mauve dress. Even the gems around her neck matched the embroidered fabric’s color, and the white diamonds sparkled around her thin neck.
Princess Charlotte was beautiful, even more so than before. It was not the amount of makeup that she wore, or the garments that embellished her frame, but rather it was the expression of joy that made the event all the more touching to the present audience. Prince Clarence held Charlotte down the stairs with small steps. He looked otherworldly as he stepped down the stairs, his face beaming as he looked over at Charlotte, who smiled back, her face softening in the gentlest way.
The coat Clarence wore was a dark navy blue, matching the prince’s gem-like eyes. His suit was tailored to match Charlotte’s, as it was styled with a stylish mix of Yursinean and Bethellian touches. The suit had a delicate jabot sewn into the front of Clarence’s white blouse, and the edge of the sleeves had a small lace trim sewn into it, adding Bethellian touches to the Yursinean-styled suit. Dressed with gold embroidery and thread, the prince’s uniform had been made carefully, sparing no expense for his banquet.
Silas looked up at the young woman holding Clarence’s arm, his eyes scanning over her boundless joy and pride she could not hide as she lightly stepped forward, walking with Prince Clarence down the long stairwell in her full, dark mauve gown. A set of maids followed behind the princess, holding her hand-embroidered train with care as the new couple continued their procession. He then quickly moved his eyes over Clarence, whose bright face angered Silas. Silas felt dark emotions welling up in him as he stared at the happy, familiar face. He wanted to run up the stairs and claw the happy smile off the face of his family’s kidnapper. Silas took a deep breath, trying to control the churning temper inside of him, and looked away from the happy couple.
Standing next to Malcolm, Silas had a smile painted on his face, but his hand tightly clenched his fan as he attempted to contain his disgust for the royalty of both kingdoms. They both had the blood of his family and friends, as well as so many other unknown elves, on their hands. And yet they had the time to flaunt their wealth and status in such a decadent manner. It was vile.
Malcolm’s eyes moved over Silas’s figure before he lifted his hand and rested it over Silas’s, wrapping his fingers around the fan. He then leaned towards Silas and said in a small voice, barely above a whisper, “You keep clutching your fan like that, and it will snap in half.” Though his voice was light, it was full of warning, and Silas turned to face Malcolm, whose lips were almost touching his ear.
Under Malcolm’s gaze, Silas regained his calm and loosened his hold on his fan, looking at Malcolm with a testy gaze, “Is that better, darling?” He blinked twice, fluttering his lashes in irritation. The duke retracted his hand in response, noting Silas’s temper had worsened at Clarence’s appearance. Malcolm anticipated this, however. He had looked far back into Silas’s past, learning about the loss of Silas’s village and the death of his wife.
Of course he hates him. I’ve heard about what my uncle did to the elves in the kingdom. Still, Malcolm thought to himself, glancing around the crowd, When in the enemy’s territory, one must become their enemy’s shadow. As Malcolm glanced around, his eyes widened. At the far corner of the room, his back to Malcolm, was a familiar head of blond hair, swimming among the crowd. The figure held a filled glass in one hand, smiling as they spoke to another noble in passing, walking through the crowd with small movements, as if to not bring attention to themself.
Forgetting Silas’s plight, Malcolm found himself distracted. “I’ll be right back.” Malcolm said, his eyes hyper-focused on the moving figure as he stepped away from Silas and began making his way through the crowd.
What happened to us sticking together for this?! Silas snarled to himself as he watched Malcolm swiftly disappear into the crowd. Silas took a deep breath, taking a moment to smile at a passing nobleman as he tried to calm himself down, There’s no point in getting angry. He’s long gone. I guess I could go wait with Eva, but I have no interest in speaking to her “companion” again. Silas flicked open his fan and gently fanned his reddened face, Maybe I should go get some fresh air. I feel suffocated here. And this heavy dress isn’t helping. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes wet. He could not be seen like this.
As Silas quickly began making his way to the outdoor balcony, the instrumentalist began the first song of the night, a simple waltz, opening the floor for the new couple to dance in the center of the ballroom, underneath the decadently-designed crystal chandelier. The attending nobles could not stare away from the young couple, feeling a sense of pride in their kingdom as they looked at the young pair, appearing to be in love.
Before the dance, Charlotte’s train had been designed to be clipped back in the back of the dress, which allowed the maids to take only a moment to lift her train and attach it to the back of her dress. Once the dress was fixed into place, Clarence took Charlotte’s hand in his own and began to lead her through the hall towards the center of the ballroom. The smile on her face never faded as her fiance took his hand in hers and placed his other hand on hers, beginning to lead their waltz.
While Clarence and Charlotte awed everyone around them with the beautiful, elegant movements of their dance, Silas stepped out into the balcony, breathing the sweet night air in deeply. The balcony was long and narrow, with grey stones placed together in geometric patterns that would be hypnotic if stared at too long. Torches were evenly placed against the castle’s exterior walls, flickering and popping as they lit up the darkening night and warmed the chilling air.
Silas stepped forward, placing his hands on the cold, stone balcony railing as he looked out on the landscape. Silas sighed in annoyance, taking in the manicured gardens in the palace walls.
What was I thinking, coming back here? Silas thought to himself, clenching his fists, There were better ways to save my family, but I did this. Now I’m forced to watch as the people who killed my people and destroyed my home celebrate their continued confinement of being ruled by a family of murderers.
Silas brought his hands to his face, trying to bite down the urge to cry.
I should be happy! Silas chided himself, taking in a shaky breath, My family will be freed, and soon I will be reunited with them. But, Silas’s chest heaved, but he used all of his willpower so he would not cry, But I still feel so awful. I’m sorry everyone. I should be relieved, but all I feel is sadness.
The dimming sounds of the waltz entered his ears, but Silas could not enjoy the flurry of wonderful notes. All he could think of was his family and the memories of the palace that he had done such horrible things in long, long ago. As he stood, leaning against the thick stone rail of the balcony, the corners of his eyes reddened, and a single tear found its way down his cheek, leaving a single trail of wetness, like a lasting scar on his flesh. While Silas could hold back his sobs, he could not hold back the tears that were threatening to fall. The cool air chilled the damp trail down his cheek, bringing a sense of clarity as he stared out at the familiar forest, allowing himself to suck in a shaky breath.
While Silas stood outside, finding an odd sensation of peace in his solitude, the waltz had finally come to a steady end, and the instrumentalist began another song, allowing the dance floor to slowly become full. Seeing all the dancing nobles around them, Clarence led Charlotte to the side of the ball, near the throne chairs that had been prepared for them as a display of their new positions.
“Will you rest, Clarence?” Charlotte asked, changing her method of address to a more intimate call. Her flushed cheeks and happy smile annoyed Clarence, but he hid it behind a smile.
Clarence could feel his irritation growing. He needed to escape for a while.
Clarence bowed at his new fiancée and responded, “I think the excitement of the evening is getting to me. I am going to the balcony to get some air. Don’t worry, I won’t be long. Excuse me.” He smiled at Charlotte, nodding his head to those around him as he turned lightly on his heel and walked briskly to the opened french doors to the open-air balcony.
The stuffiness of the event and the smell of Charlotte’s floral perfume were making his temples throb. As he walked through the doorway, his smile faded into a small frown, and the brightness in his eyes had dimmed, as if everything that had just happened was only a terrible dream. He could only feel the chill in the tips of his fingers, a light buzzing sound filling his ears, as if something were leading the young prince away from the busy ball and towards the deserted balcony.
As Clarence passed through the doorway, he lightly pushed the doors until they were nearly shut, leaving almost a meter of space between the two doors to allow him some privacy as he escaped the event, even if it were only for a moment. Clarence stood in front of the french doors, overwhelmed with a gnawing feeling he could not place. Something had been drawing him here, drawing him to this palace. The wind blew back the stray strands of his hair, and Clarence heard a quiet sound. So quiet, in fact, he had almost not heard it.
It was the sound of crying.
Turning to the right of the large balcony, Clarence saw the shadow of a figure leaning against the side of the balcony rail, the back of their head facing the prince as their delicately covered hands rested on the stone railing. The navy dress wrapped around their fragile-looking frame, shadowing the joyful mood inside the party.
I don’t recognize her. Clarence stared at the woman’s black hair with a stare full of curiosity, his eyes unconsciously fixed on the lonesome figure and their narrowed shoulders. Their head was slightly bowed down, as if they were looking down below at the gardens.
“Excuse me, are you alright?” Clarence was not sure what to say. He could hardly hear himself think over the racing of his own heart. He felt a strange longing by looking at the fragile woman’s back, but he could not name the foreign feeling.
A tear trailed down the woman’s right cheek, her face flushed as she turned towards Clarence’s voice. Once the woman turned to face Clarence, she froze, as if she had realized she had been seen by someone. Embarrassment and anger radiated from her figure as she held up her closed fan to her lips, her reddened eyes full of moisture from fresh tears that had yet to fall. She snapped open her fan as she wiped a tear from her eye.
She then nodded weakly, gripping her fan tightly in her delicate hand. She continued to cover her face with her fan, curtseying slightly before she began walking past Clarence, to the french doors that led back to the ball.
Watching the mysterious young woman try to leave stirred a strange sensation in Clarence. His heart raced as he was overcome with a sense of urgency. If he let her leave now, he knew he would never see her again, and, for some inexplicable reason, he could not bear the thought.
“Wait!” Clarence said, reaching out and grabbing the woman by the arm as she passed. With a surprising amount of strength, she attempted to shake off his arm, but Clarence held strong, refusing to let her leave so easily, “Are you alright? I saw you crying.”
The woman refused to answer, the only indication she was aware of his presence was her expression, mostly covered by her freshly opened fan, which soured further by Clarence’s grip on her arm. If he did not say something to get her to stay, she would leave.
His ears pricked up with the start of another song from within the ball. The french doors that he had left cracked open leaked the beautiful melody out to the balcony, “Would you dance with me? Just one song. Besides, you wouldn’t want to return to the ball with tears in your eyes, would you?”
The top of her cheeks, peeking out from under the fan, turned bright red. Clarence smiled at this.
Ah, she must be embarrassed. Clarence thought to himself smugly, maintaining his hold on her arm, Of course she is! She’s speaking to the crown prince!
But as the thought left Clarence’s mind, a feeling in the back of his mind jumped forward, urging him to get closer to the strange woman, to hold her close to him and make her stay by his side, even if it were only for a second more. This feeling felt almost overbearing, causing Clarence’s grip to tighten slightly, his fingernails digging into the soft fabric covering the young woman’s forearm.
“Let me go.” The woman finally spoke, her light voice surprising Clarence as she attempted to tug her arm out of his grip again.
Quizzically, Clarence looked the young woman up and down, as he said curiously, “I hope I don’t seem rude, but I can’t shake this feeling that we have met before.” The woman’s body stiffened, which told Clarence they had, though he could not remember her. As he tried to press her for an answer, she refused to answer, yet again trying to pull her arm out of his grip with a ferocity that surprised Clarence.
“Fine, I promise I will let you go, if you will dance with me for just one song.” Clarence said with a soothing voice, placing his other hand on the woman’s elbow. She tried to step away from him, but Clarence closed the distance between them with a step of his long leg. The woman looked away, continuing to hold her fan up to her face, “You’ll need two hands to dance.” Clarence said with a charming smile that was wholly ineffective against the mysterious young woman, “Will you put the fan away? Please? I promise I will let you go after.”
The young woman seemed to deeply contemplate what Clarence was saying, her forehead furrowing in the cutest manner as she thought. Finally, with a sigh, she lowered her fan, her face still turned away from Clarence.
“Will you look at me? Please?” Clarence felt odd, begging the young woman for the smallest amount of attention, yet he could not control it. He wanted so badly to see the young woman’s face, to hold her close for even the smallest amount of time.
Slowly, unwillingly, the young woman turned her face up towards Clarence. They were so close, their noses were centimeters from touching. Clarence’s eyes widened as he looked into the green eyes in front of him, who stared back into his with the same intensity. Clarence’s chest fluttered painfully as his heart lurched.
Before he could stop himself, Clarence felt his face moving closer to the young woman’s, his head tilting as his lips moved closer to hers.
“Let me go!” She screamed, her feminine voice suddenly gravely. She finally freed her arm from Clarence’s weakened grip, pulling her body back just enough to bring her left fist to the side of his mouth, punching him. Clarence reeled from the powerful punch as the young woman hoisted her skirts, bringing her leg up between Clarence’s legs and hitting the place his legs met with her heeled shoe. Clarence’s eyes bulged as he gasped in pain, falling to the ground as he held his aching groin.
“Don’t touch me, you disgusting bastard!” She screamed, kicking Clarence once in the stomach with the point of her heeled shoe, “You disgust me, you sick little pervert! It’s bad enough I have to pretend to be happy here, then your disgusting little hands keep touching me!” She kicked him once more, her sharp heel pressing into his shoulder as she glared down at him. When she looked down at him, her green eyes alight with such intense hatred, Clarence’s eyes widened through the pain.
He knew those eyes.
They had looked down at him multiple times throughout his life. Twice with pity, once with fear and hatred, and then one other time, with a pure, raging hatred, just like now.
“Silas?” Clarence whispered through the pain, reaching out and grabbing the ankle of his worst enemy, “It is you, isn’t it? I knew it! Did you come here to bewitch me? Or,” Clarence laughed weakly, “Did you come to save your pathetic little family?”
Silas did not say a word, instead shaking off Clarence’s grip as he bent down, pulling a small dagger from the inside of his small boot. Without a word, Silas held the knife up, ready to plunge it into Clarence’s heart. Clarence held his hand up, but Silas lowered his blade to his side just long enough to kick Clarence in the face. As Clarence reeled from the stiff kick, Silas lifted the blade up again.
Just as Silas was bringing the blade down, a scream shook throughout the balcony and the ballroom. Silas faltered, the blade mere inches from Clarence’s chest, and the music silenced as people began to panic inside. Suddenly, there was a flurry towards the balcony doors as everyone wanted to see where the scream came from. Silas also glanced around, trying to find the scream’s source, and Clarence took the opportunity through his pain to stand up and tackle Silas, knocking the knife out of Silas’s hands as he used his weight to push his disguised enemy to the ground.
Silas tried to punch Clarence in the face again, but Clarence anticipated it this time, grabbing Silas’s hand before painfully twisting it behind his back. Clarence locked Silas’s arms behind him as Silas gasped in pain. Voices from inside the ballroom grew closer to the balcony doors, and though Clarence knew he should hand Silas over the coming guards, something in him decided not to. His body was vibrating with delight as he looked down on his furious captive, glaring back at his captor who had pinned him under him.
No, I don’t want this to end so quickly. Clarence thought to himself as he dragged Silas to his feet, his steel grip still pinning Silas’s arms behind him. Silas grunted in pain again, and Clarence felt an odd sensation churn in him yet again. He tried to control the delighted smile on his face as his heart raced.
He had not felt this alive in a long time.
The doors to the ballroom swung open, causing Clarence to abandon his thoughts, hurriedly dragging his unwilling captive towards a shadowed divet of the dark balcony, only momentarily stopping to kick the dagger away and out of view with his foot.
“What are you doing?!” Silas snapped. Clarence was quick to hush him; however, and clamped his hand over Silas’s protesting mouth.
Guards, then guests, poured out into the balcony, racing right past the two hidden figures as they tried to find the source of the voice.
Silas began to squirm, trying to find the right angle to free himself, but Clarence held Silas’s arms tightly, pressing Silas against the cold stone wall, as he continued to press his hand over the elf’s mouth to keep him quiet.
“Keep moving and I will let them kill you.” Clarence whispered into Silas’s ear, his warm breath spraying across his ear, “Then you will never see your family.” Silas glared at Clarence, turning his head to do so, but Clarence’s eyes were filled with such an intensity, it startled Silas, causing him to fall still momentarily.
“Help!” A voice called out again, this time louder. Clarence’s attention was caught this time, and he perked up at the familiar voice.
Alywin?! Clarence’s moment of distraction was all Silas needed to free his hands, using Clarence’s momentarily weakened grip to break his hold. Silas used all his strength to push away from the wall, knocking Clarence into the wall behind them as he pushed his full weight onto the prince, knocking the wind out of the young noble. Silas heard a sickening crack ring out as Clarence’s head came in contact with the wall, but he wasted no time in fleeing, using the crowd outside the balcony to blend in and escape.
Just die this time. Silas thought to himself, disgust deep in his heart as he raced towards Eva, who was watching the balcony doors closely from a distance, sipping on a glass of red wine.
She looked Silas up and down and sighed heavily, putting her drink down on the nearby table. With a shake of her head, she removed her fur wrap to cover Silas’s shoulders.
“Did you do this?” Eva asked, her painted lips downturned as she glanced at the balcony, which held a small part of the guests. The others stood near the balcony doors, whispering in curiosity as they waited for news.
All Silas managed to do was weakly shake his head.
“Alright.” Eva said, taking Silas’s reaction as a plea to ask no more questions. She reached a gentle hand up and wiped away a streak of dirt on Silas’s shaken face. His makeup had been horribly smudged and his hair was a mess, “Edgar will do the rest here, let’s go.”
“Where?” Silas managed to mutter out, the adrenaline pumping through his body beginning to wind down. Aches and pains began to radiate all over Silas’s body, but he refused to acknowledge them. The heels on his feet had long since started to hurt his feet, but he ignored the pain radiating through his body and stood tall, ignoring his disheveled appearance.
“I think it’s time we left. You have people waiting for you anyway.” Eva said, glancing away from Silas. Silas looked down, a smile twinging at his lips as his eyes began to water. He wiped them away quickly, but Eva shook her head, wrapping a hand around his shoulder as they quickly began exiting.
“You might as well let yourself cry. Your makeup is ruined anyway.” Eva said with a sigh. Before they exited the ballroom, Eva glanced back once more, “I can’t help but wonder where Duke Godfeed is. I haven’t seen him since the ball started.” She then sighed again, rolling her eyes, “Oh well, whatever he’s doing, his use to us is over anyway. Let’s go.”
Eva’s grip on Silas’s shoulder tightened as they quickened their step, using the distraction to make their escape. Eva glanced back once again, a bad feeling echoing in her mind as she hurried Silas’s steps towards the palace exit.
…
Hi all! Sorry for the delay! I'm doing the finishing touches for my students' prom I've been planning since January (it's today!). Wow, I host events all the time for work, but large events are a whole 'nother ballpark. My students are super excited about it, though, so it makes me happy too :D
Speaking of excited.... here's that final reunion. I think you can all guess what will happen from here, but my goodness, Clare is an absolute S! Hunny and I are not sure when this happened, but.... OuO His mothers are scared for him (and baby Silas). Hope you all enjoy it! Thanks always for reading!!
