Chapter Seven

"I will absolutely not allow it."

Queen Philippa's firm, yet gentle command did not seem to faze her headstrong son. Titus stepped past me and onto the dais within the throne room. "Why not? I am more than capable to search for my own father."

All I could do was watch them banter back and forth while I continued to wonder why I was there in the first place. Upon hearing Leone's message, Titus had immediately made his way to the throne room, beckoning for me to come with him. And I had somehow ended up following him for reasons unknown to me. People always said that curiosity killed the cat. Then again, I wasn't a cat.

The queen rubbed her strained temple from her place on the throne. Evidently, she had been discussing the king's disappearance with Maddox when Titus had barged into the room, demanding that he be included in the search for King Gavin De Luca. The queen's dark blonde hair was disheveled, and her face showed immense stress. "You are not allowed out of the castle for various reasons, Titus," she said. "You know that."

Maddox surveyed the scene from the side, rubbing his mustache thoughtfully. He had given me an odd look when I entered with Titus, but seemed to understand that I didn't want to be there.

Titus balled his hands into fists. "But this—at least—should be an exception, Mother," he argued. "What if it's the same situation as Grandfather?"

The queen visibly flinched, but quickly regained her composure as she narrowed her eyes at her son. "That was a long time ago," she said, "and the offenders were executed. We do not speak of such ancient things here." She gave a meaningful glance at me, and I felt my cheeks grow hot.

I thought Titus would say more, but he whirled around so suddenly that it startled me. As he stalked past me, I saw the glint of something on his face, but it was probably the sunlight from the stained glass window hitting my eyes. He didn't give me a second look as he exited the throne room, letting the echoes of his footsteps on the marble flooring serve as the only reminders of his anger.

I felt insignificant in the cavernous throne room. The velvet carpet leading up to the two thrones on the dais...the curtains that bordered the exquisite stained glass window...the fiery chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. All of it was too grand for me. And much of the splendor made little to no sense. Why have chandeliers when there was a chance of death when trying to light them from several feet up in the air? And why have a long velvet rug that was so expensive to replace? It would become stained and battered over a certain period of time...

"—annie."

I looked up in surprise. Queen Philippa had been addressing me. "Um—er—yes, Your Majesty?"

She smiled apologetically. "I apologize sincerely for his behavior. He's rather worried about his father."

"Yeah, that's pretty much expected when your father gets abducted in a foreign country."

Maddox raised his eyebrows. I cringed, regretting my words as the queen frowned.

"We don't know for sure that he has been abducted, Lannie," she answered with more grace than I deserved. "I just pray that there has been a miscommunication with his messengers. Although that is unlikely, seeing as Gavin was so careful..."

"Your Majesty," Maddox interjected, "allow me to escort Ms. Lannie to her home."

I suppressed a sigh of relief when she nodded. "Very well. The banquet tonight is still scheduled, Maddox. Don't let a word of this reach anyone's ears." The queen looked at me gently, putting a finger to her mouth as she said, "Keep quiet about this, would you?"

I nodded. It wasn't as if I had a best friend to gossip with about national security.

Maddox gave me a half-smile as he led me out the doors. "Come now, Ms. Lannie. Let's get you home."

                                                ————————

For the first time in my life, I was actually trying to pick out a dress.

It was horrid.

"Wear a dress to the banquet," Clarice had said.

"Over my dead body," I had replied.

But, of course, she had threatened me with my job again. This time, she said she wouldn't be able to stop the wrath of her mother if I didn't wear a dress.

Even though my life depended on it, I was finding the desire to continue living increasingly difficult as I sifted through the meager selection of my mother's dresses. They were several years old, too worn and tattered to be appropriate for a royal banquet. It honestly made me wonder why I was bothering with all of this. Odelia couldn't sentence me to death for wearing There was nothing wrong with trousers. Then again, there was nothing wrong with boots, but Odelia just about had a fit of murderous rage when she saw me wearing them in the castle yesterday. Now I had to wear ridiculous dress shoes that made my feet ache. It was a wonder how I had survived this long without being forced to wear a skirt.

I plopped down on my bed, causing a garment from the large dress pile to slide off the bed. My bedroom was small and quaint, the only furniture being a dresser, vanity, and bed. Despite the simple appearance of my room, it served its purpose, since I spent more time in my study than I did sleeping.

The bell to the water clock in my kitchen created a hollow, deep echo throughout my house, signaling that I had two hours left until the banquet.

And I was still at a loss for picking a dress out.

All of a sudden, there was a rapping of knuckles against my door. I made my way to the threshold and opened the door after unlocking the seven bolts.

"Hello, Ms. Brackbur—"

I shut the door.

"Delivery for you, Ms. Brackbury," Percy Wentzel sang. "The note says here that you need this. From some Claretra lady, it says."

With quick precision, I opened the door and whipped the package from his hand. Before he could say anything else, I said a word of thanks and shut the door. The package in my hands was wrapped in brown parchment and sealed with something sticky. It was amateur wrapping, but the small red seal on the note indicated that it was from the palace. The note read:

With dread, I unwrapped the package and pulled out a pair of slippers. Beneath the shoes was a simple, floor-length blue dress. It had long, billowing sleeves, and would be quite beautiful if I liked dresses. But I didn't like dresses.

I sighed. Clarice only did this to injure my pride. I decided to send them back. She would just have to deal with it. Yes, that was a fine idea.

Except that I had nothing to wear and Odelia would arrange for my assassination the next day if I wore anything but a dress.