Chapitre 13: Chapter 12
The king arrived bellowing in laughter as was his norm, and everyone laughed at his unfunny jokes as they were supposed to. Her father arrived shortly after, positioning himself between the prince and his father.
Charlotte found it ironic that Oliver did not sit right beside his father, like his brother before him but said nothing. Her father offered her a tight but sincere smile. She had not seen him since he delivered the news.
Charlotte ached to speak with him and tell him all that had happened since they had last seen each other, perhaps get some advice and rebuke. Instead, she smiled politely back at him as the maids filled their plates with delicacies, and avoided direct eye contact with the knight and everyone seated opposite her.
Charlotte's plate had her attention for most of the dinner, unintentionally following the chief's advice, until suddenly, she felt an armored foot hit her leg and summoned her most powerful glare for the knight, only to find that the attention of the whole table was on her.
Apparently, someone had asked her a question. She could not tell who it was since everyone was looking at her expectantly.
Her father's face was displeased. "The king wants to know how you are finding your stay in the palace," he asked.
"Yes, yes," Charlotte answered hurriedly. "It's pleasing. Very good." She wished the ground would open up and swallow her alive.
The knight was smiling, she glared at him, which only brightened his smile. Bradley was trying very hard not to smile. She sent him a painful look. She wondered how fast things had changed, her once mortal enemy was now a keeper of a secret that could get her beheaded.
The air around the table seemed to have changed abruptly from merry to serious. She continuously pinched her thigh under the table, the sight of her food suddenly nauseating.
"Charlotte and Oliver are to be wed, isn't that pleasing to hear?" The king said to the table, his eyes on her father. Charlotte sensed an unspoken animosity between the two, who were once good friends.
Surprised looks turned their way, Bradley's being the most obvious. Charlotte's lips curved upwards automatically into a sweet, pleased smile. She felt a hand pry her fingers from her thigh, where she was pinching her flesh and turned to Oliver.
The same fake smile she felt on her face was on his. He laced their fingers together and placed their hands on the table as they accepted the congratulations around the table.
"You've met Sir Edward Silvercrest, Charlotte," no she had not, not officially at least, the two shared a look of apprehension. Did the king already know? No, they would already be dead, he was not a patient man.
He continued, "A man after my own heart. Knighted when he was only thirteen." he said proudly.
"I wish he was my son," he added, bursting out in laughter, everyone around the table laughed along with him.
Charlotte turned to look at Oliver. He avoided her eyes, the same smile still plastered on his face. She squeezed his hand, her previous argument with him forgotten momentarily.
"And now, to lead the next battalion from the palace under my dear friend and right-hand man, Sebastian." the king patted her father's back. Charlotte searched his face. Though the old knight was laughing heartily Charlotte saw that like everyone else around the table, he had just received the news.
Charlotte's heart broke. The probability of her father coming back from the battle was close to zero at his age. She wished she could take his place and go instead. She had already learned all she needed to before a battle.
It was Oliver's turn to squeeze her hand. She, however, was more angered than comforted by this gesture. Everything that was happening to her was his and his family's fault. She knew it was unfair to blame him for his father's actions, but she didn't care.
She pulled his hand from hers roughly, looking around and hoping no one had noticed, only to find that the knight, who now had a name she refused to address in her head, watching them intently.
She glared at him, but he seemed to have regained his power and confidence, for he only smirked in return. Charlotte promised herself that she would squeeze his pride along with his life out, if it was the last thing she would do.
"You are too generous, Your Highness," her father was saying.
"And you too humble, my friend." the king replied. They both laughed.
Charlotte wondered how she would survive the pretentiousness that seemed to fill the palace.
"Oh, and Charlotte, your friend, what's his name?" the king asked her, pointing to Bradley.
"Bradley son of-" Bradley started, but the king was not interested.
"My son said you missed your friends, so I invited him to dinner! I want you to be the happiest you can be my daughter, anything you want, you can have in the palace."
"You are too kind, Your Highness," she answered, her voice dead. Her father glared at her. But she was beyond hypocrisy with the king. He had blackmailed her to her face. She doubted he knew that.
The king offered her a tight smile, displeased.
He turned to her father and said, his voice grave and sincere. "I am delighted by the possible union of our families, my brother. Now we will be brothers, united by more than friendship."
Her father returned his sincere look. "As am I, my king."
The king turned from him, and with the same gravity on his face, called for one of his guards. He whispered something to the guard, who proceeded to ring a small bell for silence.
The king stood up, the air in the room suddenly somber, those who already knew the king's announcement saddened by the reminder, and those who didn't, apprehensive.
He turned to the rest of the hall, his face a mixture of grief and anger. Everyone in the room seemed to hold their breaths, awaiting the king's announcement. The anxiety transferred to Charlotte, though she already knew what the king was going to announce.
"Noble lords, esteemed advisors, and brave, loyal men of our kingdom," he began, "I stand before you this day, to bring you grave news. Grave news of not only a tragedy, but of treachery that has struck the heart of the palace, and especially the kingdom." there was a collective gasp in the room as people began to speculate what had happened.
"My beloved son, Prince Patrick, beloved by all men, women, and children, heir to the throne and the foundation of the future of our kingdom, was assassinated in the palace."
Another collective gasp reverberated around the hall. A mixture of shock, grief, and anger washed over the room. Charlotte wondered how many were sincere.
"In these dark times, may we stand together in remembrance of his noble deeds and unconditional determination for our kingdom."
Everyone bowed their heads solemnly.
"We must unite in our grief to root out the traitors and conspirators, to bring justice and peace, so my son may rest in peace." He paused. "To my loyal men, I charge you with the duty to ensure safety and security in our kingdom. We must not rest until the perpetrators are brought to swift and merciless justice."
The men banged their mugs on the tables in agreement. Charlotte found herself joining in.
"Though we mourn the untimely death of the prince, we must look to the future with hope. After careful consideration and consultation with my wise council, I have decided that Prince Frederick shall be succeeded by his brother Prince Oliver!"
There was a silent murmur before the men applauded. Oliver stood and raised an arm in greeting. Everyone stood and bowed three times.
"Long live the prince! Long live the prince! Long live the prince!"
The air in the room was suddenly hopeful. They sat back down after the prince had done so.
"In the days to come," the king continued. "We shall stand together and mourn the loss of a piece of all of our heart. May the memory of my son guide us into a prosperous future."
One of his men at arms handed him a goblet. Charlotte and everyone else grabbed theirs.
"To prosperity and peace in our kingdom. May our enemies forever kneel at our feet and may my son rest in peace. Long live the prince."
"Long live Prince Frederick! Long live Prince Oliver! Long live The King!"
They all took a drink of their wine.
"When did you all practice this?" she mumbled to no one in particular, as she took a sip of her drink. It was water.
Her father and some members of the council who had heard her sent her reproachful looks, Oliver and Bradley chuckled. The knight smiled at her. She scrunched her face at him in response.
Everyone stood as the king left. In the commotion, the knight exchanged his goblet with hers.
"Peace offering?" he asked.
Charlotte took it without acknowledging him, downing the bitter liquid in one gulp.
A hand gripped her arm roughly.
"I need to speak with you." Her father whispered in her ear.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone