"A toast, to loyal subjects and obedient commoners," the king said, lifting his glass. The duques and their wives, some sons and daughters among them, followed suit. But rather than drink from his glass, the king kept it raised, gesturing with his free hand to one of the guards stationed along the wall.
Armando stepped forward, pulling a frightened young boy alongside him.
I seemed to be the only one who was looking at the boy, the rest of the dinner guests having drunk from their glasses as quiet conversations began among them. He was no older than eight, barefoot in a threadbare shirt and trousers, his eyes red-rimmed from crying. Armando pushed him toward the king, who shoved his wine glass into the child's trembling hands. The boy took a sip while the king sliced a piece of meat from the venison that had been served to him. No sooner had the boy replaced the cup on the table, than the king shoved the fork in his direction. The boy obediently ate the food, Armando stepping forward to drag him back to the wall, while a servant scurried over to replace the king's fork.
"A poison taster," Frederico said, his own food untouched as he looked to the king. "One can never be too careful in the royal court of Ardalone. Though I've said many a time that using the kitchen staff's own children is perhaps not the wisest course."
Dulciana scoffed beside me, gesturing for a servant to fill her already empty glass.
"Stop pretending that you'd do away with them for the benefit of this foreign imbecile," Dulciana muttered. "You know as well as I do that it's the best way to keep the commoners from killing us through the kitchens."
"If you think he is an imbecile, you are more of a fool than I thought you were," Frederico said, his smile twitching at the corners of his lips as his keen gaze shifted from Dulciana to me.
"This certainly looks delicious," I said, grinning my idiotic grin despite the nausea roiling in my belly.
Children. They used children to test their food and drink for poison. No wonder their commoners were so angry.
I looked around the table, wondering whether it had all been meant as a show for the nobility gathered there, as there had never been a poison taster at any of the more intimate dinners I'd shared with the royal family. But none of the duques or their families seemed to pay the child any mind, not even when Armando ushered him away through a secret passage after five minutes had elapsed. As the haughty guard resumed his place, the king finally cut into his food, conversing in low tones with the Duque Delmar and the Duque Delminas, seated to either side of him.
When he noticed me staring, Armando abruptly tore his eyes away from Dulciana, who was steadily drinking her way through yet another glass of wine. Ana-Cristina drew my gaze next, a pout springing to her lips as she caught my eye. She was being monopolized by the Duque Delminas' son, Guillermo, who had been seated beside her, peppering her with questions in an attempt to start a conversation. She smiled politely, continuing to throw longing looks my way as she responded to him with one-word answers.
Dropping my eyes to my plate, I pushed my food around, my appetite vanished. Between the child poison taster and the complicated web of politics slowly ensnaring me, I needed to get away from this place.
More accurately, I needed peace and quiet to sort through my thoughts and come up with a new plan. I'd played the part of obedient prince tonight, but I didn't doubt that Dulciana would send Ana-Cristina to intercept me again tomorrow, to test whether I intended to continue obeying the king or not. I had to decide what I would do when faced with such a situation, especially now that the crown prince was keeping an eye on me as well.
As my eyes wandered down the table, searching for some sort of distraction, they landed upon the plate next to mine, the food untouched. Beatriz hadn't so much as lifted her fork, her veil still in place.
"Have you no appetite, your Highness?" I asked quietly, keenly aware that Frederico had paused in his conversation with Inés the moment I'd spoken to Beatriz.
They veiled princess regarded me out of the corner of her eye.
"Do you find your appetite stimulated when you watch a child test food for poison?" she asked, her voice as low as mine. Frederico set down his fork and knife, his eyes on the pair of us, the din of conversation keeping our words from his ears.
"No," I replied, "I most certainly do not."
She looked over at me in earnest now and I couldn't help but notice the flecks of green in her brown eyes, the only part of her face visible thanks to her dark veil, as she inspected me.
"Then you'd best get used to going hungry," she muttered, returning her gaze to her plate. "For that is how things are done in this palace."
"Sister," Frederico said, a warning in his tone, "Perhaps you should allow me to entertain the foreigner."
"I'm not Ana, brother," Beatriz said, her younger sister's eyes darting her way at the mention of her name. "I won't have him falling in love with me after a few words and lustful glances."
Ana-Cristina's fork slammed down into her plate, her face heating, but it was Dulciana who spoke first.
"With a face like yours, the foreign idiot would run away screaming the moment you lifted that veil," Dulciana said over Ana-Cristina's affronted whine, "Unless, of course, you've forgotten how hideous your reflection really is after all your years at a convent. It's a wonder father even permitted your return."
Beatriz went rigid, her fingers flexing as her hand came to rest on the table, right beside her knife.
"I permitted her return," Frederico said, his voice dangerously quiet. "And you'd do well to remember your place, Dulciana, for I have a very long memory for slights against my loved ones."
Dulciana fixed her brother with a glare so hostile, it was a wonder that the prince's calm facade didn't so much as flinch.
"I will never bow you you," she said.
"Yes, you will, even if it means I must cut the legs out from under you," Frederico replied.
The three other princesses had gone still, their eyes bouncing between their brother and eldest sister. Beatriz seemed to be gauging how far she was from Dulciana, her eyes flitting back to Frederico as if awaiting some silent command, while Ana-Cristina was watching Dulciana expectantly, anticipating a rebuttal. Inés looked as if she were about to cry.
"Quiero aprendar más Ardal," I said, cutting into their conversation with some terribly accented Ardal.
I want to learn more Ardal.
My words had their desired effect, drawing the gazes of all five of the royal siblings, defusing the tension mounting between Dulciana and Frederico. At hearing me speak their language, however, Beatriz and Frederico exchanged a look, while Dulciana simply reached for her wine again with a chuckle.
"Why bother," she said, "You won't be here for much longer, anyway."
Across the table Frederico stiffened.
"Tell me, sister. Have you chosen the lace for your wedding dress yet?" he asked her in English, presumably so I could understand. Dulciana's dangerous smile sliced across her face.
"I was thinking Vareinnian lace," she said in Ardal. "Perhaps I could impose upon you to acquire some from your-"
"One more word," Beatriz said, "And you will live to regret it."
Dulciana laughed, leaning forward to fix wicked eyes on her veiled sister.
"You certainly love your empty threats, gatita," Dulciana said, swirling her wine.
Kitten, she'd called her. A word that I wouldn't have guessed would have Beatriz's fingers curling in a white-knuckled grip around her knife.
Frederico snapped a word that wasn't Ardal nor English, but rather something that sounded vaguely Bazeran. His eyes were on the knife in Beatriz's hand, her thumb caressing the handle as she regarded Dulciana. Whatever the word was, however, it had her inhaling a fortifying breath and releasing her grasp so the knife clanked to the table.
I fought from shaking my head at the fact this family was so fraught they couldn't even eat together without reaching for weaponry.
Down the table, the king's fist connected with the wood, cutlery and glasses jingling as the table shook and the room hushed.
"If you insist upon squalling like toddlers, you will leave!" he barked, his eyes on Frederico and Dulciana. The princess chuckled bitterly to herself, taking another sip of her drink, while her brother remained silent, dabbing his lips with his napkin before his chair scraped against the floor as he stood.
"Your Graces," he said, bowing to the dukes, then the king, "Father. I am sorry if my behaviour has offended. It is not how a future king should act, but I will always feel compelled to defend my claim to my throne when it is challenged."
Dulciana nearly choked on her wine, fighting back her sputter as she set the goblet down, her wide-eyed rage focused on her brother.
In a matter of moments, three of the duques had voiced their agreement, Delmar the loudest among them as he lifted his glass towards Frederico, hailing him as the future king. Dellanos followed, then Delbosque, with only Delminas nodding politely rather than applauding. The king's beard twitched with the hint of a smile, as Frederico resumed his seat, dropping his napkin back into his lap as he met Dulciana's gaze.
"Remember that, darling sister," Frederico said. Dulciana had gone ashen, her calculating gaze on the duques as quiet conversations resumed down the length of the table, no doubt suffused with gossip about the prince's words. Ana-Cristina was now completely ignoring Guillermo Peñarisco's prattling, her horrified gaze leaping from Dulciana to Frederico and back again. Once again, Inés looked as if she wanted to cry.
Beside me, Beatriz let out a chuckle so low it barely twitched her veil, pride-filled eyes on her brother.
"It really is a shame you don't understand Ardal," she muttered to me, "You're missing out on all the fun."
I fought to keep from smirking, biting my tongue when I realized I'd almost corrected her.
**A/N: How's about that for a family dynamic!? I don't know about you, but my family dinners are never that exciting (not that I'd ever wish them to be!). What do you think of Frederico's bold statement and the king and duques' reactions? What do you think Dulciana will do as her next move?
As always, if you enjoyed it, please remember to vote, comment, and if you have a spare moment, keep on voting for The Heiress Queen in The Fiction Awards!! :D **