Lunar Rising

Ch.4 Waves

"Oh, she's looking at us!" June suddenly gasped, her startled movements knocking over the glass of wine in front of her and extinguishing the burning candle on the table.

"For heaven's sake," Marcella hissed as she grabbed the cloth on her lap, hastily patting the table dry. "Can you be any more embarrassing, June?"

"I wasn't trying to be," June groaned.

"I don't think anyone tries to be embarrassing," Meera frowned, feeling the spilled wine on her hands. Her gaze dropped to the stains on the fitted sleeves of her gown, and the frown on her face deepened.

"I am so sorry, Meera," June began to apologize, recognizing the mess she had created. "Let me help you."

"It's alright," Meera pulled back to avoid the second glass June knocked over.

"Stay still!" Marcella complained, grabbing her sister's elbow and the other clothes on the table. "Meera, stand up before the wine gets on your dress."

Pushing her chair back, Meera jumped to her feet, quickly stepping away as Henry came to stand beside her.

"What's wrong?" He asked, placing a protective hand on her lower back.

"It's nothing," Meera shook her head. "Just a small spill."

"Your dress," Henry reached out and touched the edge of Meera's sleeves.

"A good wash will take care of it," Meera suggested.

"This is silk from Delphina," Henry explained. "My mother had this dress made for you."

"It was my fault," June remarked. "I spilled the wine."

"You should have been more careful," Henry frowned. "Especially when you're sitting beside the bride in a white dress, Princess."

"Henry," Meera touched his shoulder as she witnessed the way June's eyes cowered. "It's just a spill. I can wash it off."

Henry's eyes lingered on June for a few long seconds before he turned back towards Meera.

"You should soak it before the stain sets," he said.

"Yes," Meera nodded, feeling June and Marcella's eyes on her. She picked up her dress and stepped away from the table. The three women exchanged glances, silently agreeing that Henry's scolding had made an ordinary spill feel like a royal catastrophe.

But Meera held her tongue and her thoughts to herself as she made her way around the banquet tables and slipped out of the grand hall. She politely asked one of the servants to bring her some water and a washcloth as she began to hurry toward the gardens.

"Meera," Henry called after her, attempting to gain her attention and halt her rushed departure.

"That wasn't very polite, Henry," Meera said without stopping, marching purposefully toward the garden. "June is clumsy. She made a mistake."

Her voice carried a subtle undercurrent of disappointment and frustration, a rare occurrence for the typically composed bride-to-be.

"I apologize, Princess," Henry caught her elbow and halted her in her tracks. "Look at me, please."

Meera, her weariness evident in the lines etched on her face, allowed Henry to turn her towards him. She looked up at him with a frown, her patience worn thin, waiting to hear what else he had to say.

"You just look so perfect tonight," Henry began. His eyes scanned Meera's face as his hands moved to her shoulders. "I don't want anything spoiling our day."

"You should apologize to June," Meera said, her tone carrying a hint of tired exasperation. "She's not used to people speaking to her in that manner."

"Maybe she should learn, then," Henry chuckled.