Of Gears and Humanity

| 16.1

[ELENA]

Dinners were always too long. I loved food, yes, who didn't? But whenever I was lost in my head, giving in to my fears, my thoughts, I wanted to be alone. And the day of the ball... being alone wasn't an option.

"Elena, you're distracted." My father leaned close to me from his seat. I glanced at him before returning my focus to the surrounding party. Judging by the number of people dancing in the center of the room, I knew an hour or so had passed. No one had time for music; drinks and gossip consumed their time.

Once my father was ready to leave, so could I. So, when he bumped me with his elbow, I shot him a forced smile. "Distracted, papa?"

He nodded before putting a piece of fowl in his mouth. With raised brows, I watched him chew. Disbelief, with a small mixture of disgust, had to be on my face, because he laughed. A hearty laugh. He leaned back in his seat before patting his stomach with his broad hand. "You're thinking I eat too much."

"No." I shook my head. "I would never say that."

He shot me a curious gaze and grinned. "When have you never been honest with me, Elena?"

Looking at my father, I mentally told myself not to change colors. Don't turn red or blue or pink; don't match the emotions surging through my chest. Honest? All I've done the past few days was told half-truths, so there was honesty. But as I looked at the joy in my father's eyes, I found the lies I've told to outweigh my truths.

"Papa." I frowned and looked down at my plate. I had eaten my potatoes, some rice, and corn, but nothing else. Most of my plate was still colored with food.

"You are distracted, it's fine. You've had a long morning and afternoon. And maybe," my father clicked his teeth as I looked up at him, "I was a little excited and planned this party well in advance." He shrugged and sighed, looking over at me. "I didn't stop to ask how you felt. And it seems your friend," he pointed over at Damien, "is feeling the weight of it all, too."

I followed my father's hand. A few seats away from his, after the court officials and a few of the king's guards, was Damien. He looked quiet, deep in thought, just like I was. His plate hadn't been touched either. He pulled at the bread in his hands but didn't eat the pieces; he let them fall to his plate.

"Go on, get some fresh air," my father said as he gently pushed my plate away. "I'll handle the crowd and the gossip. And if I need you, I'll find you."

I didn't hesitate. My father granted me permission to step away and clear my head. And it was exactly what I needed.

Reaching over to grab my father in the tightest of hugs, I whispered, "Thank you," in his ear before I shimmied around his seat. I grabbed the hem of my dress with one hand and hurried over to Damien's spot on the table.

He saw me coming, looked up with a small smile. But before he could say anything, I took the bread from his hands, placed it on the napkin beside his plate, then tapped his shoulder. "Follow me, please," I said, so the rest of the table wouldn't care.

That I knew would be hard. All of the table cared what I did, where I went, and who I moved with. Leaving the dinner table in the middle of my party would spark all of the curious questions on our side of the world. As I made my way away from the table and into the crowd, I glanced back at my father and hoped he could control them all.

"Where are we going?" Damien asked. I looked back at him with no clear answer but grabbed his hand to guide him. If I were going to walk aimlessly, so would he. At least until we were far away from people.