Trace (On Hold)

Chapter 31

I faltered back in surprise, caught off-guard by Lia's entrance. "Aaliyah, where in Yandestine did you even come from?"

"Oh, me? I was just standing around the corner, waiting for your conversation to finish." She beamed, giving both of us a thumbs-up.

"Is that what overhearing is called nowadays?"

"No, it's called not wanting to interrupt, Eli," She clasped her arms behind her back, her expression suddenly becoming serious. "We've been summoned. The kingdom has announced a full royal meeting outside the palace."

"I'll be there right after sending Zyanna back to her abode."

"No." Lia uttered, giving me a tight-lipped smile.

"No?" Zyanna and I both questioned at the same time.

"I want her there with us today."

"With all due respect, your highness—" Zyanna grimaced, almost gnashing her teeth together.

"I said what I said. No questions until the end." Lia retorted and spun away on her heel.

"The end of what?" I shouted out to my sister who was already leaving our presence.

She didn't respond.

The unsaid answer - whenever the end was coming, it wasn't very close at all.

It was just the goddamn beginning.

~~~

The bells shook and rung as the little clappers clashed against the waist of the bell three times.

"Camare."

It meant begin.

Everyone stood up, bowed down to one another and came together to collectively bow at my father - haphazardly coordinated.

A crooked breeze of tension was suspended in the air, as a colossol assembly of thousands of villagers, sub-rulers, and royal members had gathered together outside the palace - every group fixed in their own distinguishable positions.

My parents both were seated on heavily adorned chairs placed above the array of grey concrete stairs, as they looked down at the numerous people filling every spot from the very entrance to all the way below the stairs.

The palace gates closed.

The bell chimed one last time as my father returned their sign of respect with a slow, singular nod. He raised his fist and placed it near his chest, calmly unclenching it and let it flutter back to his side.

Two seconds of poor, doubtful silence.

A group of voices carefully spiked up out of the crowd. It only took moments for others to gather the gut to raise the cords in their throats along with them.

And before we knew it, the massive crowd's questions metamorphosed into pronounced statements; fluidly jumped into shots of screams, coming to circle us with a vehement explosion.

They wanted answers.

They wanted the truth.