Chapter 1: The King is Murdered
My first day. My first goddamn day.
The king slumped forward on his throne as though he had just fallen asleep, as though anyone could wake him with a tap on the shoulder or sudden shout. As though there wasn't a knife twisted through his chest.
The doors behind me burst open, armored footsteps of the castle guards flooded the room.
"Do not move." The voice of Prince Leon rang above the din. I was the target of his command. My muscles locked into place, my lungs could barely pull air through my nose. I couldn't blink.
I couldn't turn away from the scene before me as the guards inspected the corpse of their now-dead king. One of them signed something to a person behind me. (He's dead, sir. At least an hour.)
Slowly, Prince Leon the Third, the crown prince--no, the sovereign king--of Andan Castle and her territories, stepped into my field of view. He gestured to the guards and they busied themselves with the king's corpse. Prince Leon turned to me.
Generally speaking, we maids aren't supposed to make eye contact with the noble family. It's a sign of disrespect, sure, but it also has the unfortunate effect of catching their attention. You never want the attention of an Andan noble. As such, I'd never seen Prince Leon up close, not in all my training or touring of the castle's many rooms. He was an unreasonably attractive man.
His eyes shone like sapphires, but they had the gleam of a starving predator. They could see through you, they knew your secrets. Put that gaze together with the harsh angles of his cheekbones and jawline, and Prince Leon was the picture of dark and brooding. This was a man who got exactly what he wanted. Despite the circumstances, something inside me fluttered at the thought that he might want something I had.
He wore the sort of clothes you could only afford when you had a nation's wealth at your fingertips: a trim, perfectly tailored fit, black and red dyes--probably imported, and a coat clearly designed to show off the broad muscles of his shoulders. Prince Leon stepped towards me slowly, clearly enjoying this moment of power even in the aftermath of his father's death.
"What's a small thing like you doing here?" he asked.
Even if I wasn't still held by his first order, I don't think I could have answered.
"Move again." He rolled his eyes as he gave the command. In control of my body, I collapsed to the floor, gasping and gulping down air. He gave me a moment, then gently hooked his shoe beneath my chin and turned my face upwards. He frowned down at me.
"Sir?" I asked.
"I don't recognize you," Prince Leon said, "who are you?"
Prince Leon had something of a reputation with women who worked for him. I suspected he knew all the maids. Intimately.
"I'm Eve, sir." I swallowed, trying to shake the feeling of paralysis. "Just started today."
"We needed another pretty one," he said, idly. I felt red rush to my cheeks. He was rude. He was also the most powerful man in the entire kingdom.
A guard approached the prince and signed to him, (We need to know if she did it.)
"Right, this maid is the murderer." Prince Leon scoffed as he crouched down to my level. I felt the whole of his attention then, the entire force of his presence directed at me. Those blue eyes seemed to freeze me anew, my breath catching in my throat.
"Answer my questions honestly." Another order.
"Do not lie." And another. The double-layered command rang in my ears. I could feel his will resonate within my bones. I couldn't lie, even if I wanted to.
"Yes, sir." I mumbled.
"Did you kill my father?" Prince Leon asked, cocking his head to the side.
"No, sir."
"What were you doing here then?" I tried to focus on his question as two guards carried the king's body past me. Several drops of blood splattered on the floor.
"I came to clean, sir. It's tradition among the servants to spend your first day cleaning the Great Hall." An odd tradition to be sure. I wondered if I was the only maid in Andan history to have stumbled on the murdered corpse of her sovereign.
"Hell of a situation to find yourself in on your first day." Prince Leon smirked. I knew there was no love lost between the dead king and his children, but the prince seemed completely unbothered by the murder. A dangerous thought lurked on the edge of my mind. Was he the one behind it?
"Do you know who murdered my father?" he asked.
Fortunately, the Imperative didn't catch my treasonous theory. "No, sir." I replied.
"Do you know anything useful to us," his voice had dropped a note lower, serious and threatening, "or are you truly just this unlucky?"
Had he always been standing this close? I could smell him now, a thick smoky musk--the fireplace in his study, I guessed. I swallowed nervously; my mouth felt dry.
"Just unlucky, sir."
Prince Leon stood up, dusting himself as though just being close to me was enough to get him dirty. He signed to the guard, (She's innocent, are you satisfied?) The guard nodded.
"You can leave now," Prince Leon said, "and if you could tell my sister what has happened. I'll deal with my brothers, there's no sense letting them have you first."
I stood and turned to go, trying to keep my eyes downcast and my posture submissive. Speak to the Princess Minerva. I tried to focus on that portion of the instruction and ignore the obvious implication. If I left quickly enough, perhaps I could--
"One more thing?" I nearly jumped. I hadn't noticed the Prince leaning over my shoulder. He murmured into my ear, "Come by my chambers later."
I felt it then. A sudden and deep need to go to his rooms. To submit there to whatever he wanted. I could fight it, for now. I could push it off and try to distract myself, but eventually I would have to give in. Because that was what the nobles of the Andan family did. When they ordered you somewhere, you had to go. When they told you what to do, you had to do it. That was their magic: the Imperative. And here I was, a puppet for their entertainment.