The Cold Prince

6

Word Count: 1536

~Avila

Everyone sits stiffly around the table, staring down at their food.

They have all about half cleared their plate, while mine remains mostly untouched. I'm not entirely sure what it is, but it's some kind of soup with absolutely no seasoning.

My stomach turns just looking at it.

"It was your favourite meal," Crimson states, eyeing me warily.

I'm tired of everyone looking at me like I'm something to fear, like I'm going to explode at any moment. Maybe they don't want to lose me again, but I feel fine.

"It tastes plain," I say, picking up some of the reddish brown liquid on my spoon, letting it drip back down into the bowl.

"That's what you liked," Vade mutters from across the table. "Plain and simple."

He's been avoiding my gaze since dinner was served. Crimson set up a whole introduction that includes this dinner, knowing nothing about my previous meeting with him in the middle of the night.

It's a good thing she doesn't know. She's been flustered since Vade numbly introduced himself and left it at that. She keeps trying to assure me that he is just in shock, but I know better.

He hates me.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think I like this." I push the bowl away from me, scrunching my nose up in disgust. I don't mean to be rude, but I can't stand eating that.

Crimson turns to one of her staff. "Go make her something else."

One of them quickly collects the bowl and leaves with it. Now there is nothing to distract me from this uncomfortable dinner.

They seem to have forgotten that to me, they are all strangers.

"A lot more has changed than we first anticipated," Roel states, raising his brows. "Even your tastes seem to have changed."

I shift uncomfortably under their scrutiny. They must be joking around with me, considering how terrible that meal was. There is no version of me that could have possibly enjoyed that.

"I wish you would all stop looking at me like that," I mumble, brushing my hair back from my face.

"We are just curious, Avila. We don't mean any harm by it," Roel assures me gently. I glance up at Vade but he is looking away now, shaking his head like the thought of something has irritated him.

I look to Crimson. "Who are my friends? If I had any."

"Yes, Venna and Pria. They will be delighted to see you, although perhaps we should wait until we announce your return to the world," Crimson says delicately.

A plate of steamed vegetables and some kind of meat is placed in front of me. I concentrate on that instead of the burning desire to rip into my mind to tug out what's missing.

"When are we going to do that?" I question, stabbing my fork into a carrot. I want some more freedom to explore who I once was without worrying about who might find out.

"When your father returns. He will have an idea." Crimson's expression tightens.

I narrow my eyes. How is it that I know Roel better than my own father at this point?

"Why isn't he here already? Vade came from another place and he got here within a day," I note.

Crimson smooths her hands through her perfectly styled hair. "Your father is a very busy man."

"It's not because of a lack of love for you," Roel adds, sensing my unease. "He is anxious to get here, I'm sure, but unfortunately he prefers to do all his diplomacy himself, and must complete his work before he can return."

"Did I even like my father?" I question.