Just like everyone else of importance here, I've been given a room to accommodate myself throughout my stay.
Although my time here has been short, word of my arrival has quickly spread throughout the court.
People have begun to whisper and gossip about the supposed Lianna Northwell. Some include themselves in the conversation, while others are just confused as to why she's here.
Technically, a member of House Northwell hasn't stepped foot into court for decades.
The noble house was once an influential and powerful family that one day vanished from the face of society. Multiple people say they wanted privacy from the public eye, while others argue as to why they'd give up all the power.
Like everyone else, I have no idea as to why the family just disappeared, but the whole situation doesn't really concern me. The only thing I need to be worrying about it figuring out to create an identity that's believable to the eyes around me. Then again, it isn't hard to play a person most people have never met.
The people around me will be looking for answers. They are looking for answers. All eyes and ears will be turned to me and I'd have to convince them her whole existence isn't a lie. Starting with the King.
When word of my arrival scraped the court, the King was quick to find out and was also made aware of all the speculation against my house.
Almost immediately after I'd settled in, the King called for an audience with me. I'd say he's smart, to say the least. Questioning and nit-picking at someone new to him to understand what he's dealing with before they become a threat. Pulling apart a rumor by the root, to convince the others -as well as himself- around him.
I'm thankful I'm prepared for the encounter. Living with my mother has taught me to think before I speak and to only speak when spoken to. She used to put to the test all the time, calling on me publicity only to see how long it would take for her to break me.
Surprisingly, each time it happened I only built more of a tolerance for her and her attacks. When she realized it, it only made her even angrier at me for not conveying the reaction she wanted me to.
She'd sit high upon her throne as she peered down at me with a look meant to kill. She knew that despite whatever dislike I began to build up for her, my fear would always be stronger. So, I'd always oblige to the Siren Queen's will.
I'd bow before her as she made me second guess myself for completely normal and childish things. Sometimes I could tell it was out of spite, while other times it was for her own amusement, or even just for my own humiliation.
My mother showed me a kind of hatred I never quite understood. Especially since Kahliteia never received the same treatment, at least not on the same kind of degree I did. Even now that I know the history I still don't completely understand why she treats me the way she does.
But regardless of the circumstances, growing up with her prepared me for the journey none of us knew was coming. Now, those same traumatic experiences would probably be the only reason I'd survive the rest of the few months I had here.
Cliara had been gracious enough to let me borrow one of her older gowns. I had told her my journey to court had been rushed and had caught my family off-guard. I told her that although I did have things of my own, they were out of fashion and unfit for the prying eyes around here. Upon hearing my excuses, she almost immediately agreed to help me.
Now, I'd be using the clothes she lent me to meet with the King. I hope he won't notice any similarities.
Two guards accompany both sides of the door leading into the throne room. They're covered head to toe in armor and hold spears made out of iron. Although the display is meant to be intimidating, I can't say I'm frightened.
Both of the men open the doors for me instantly -it's a relief that here they don't stop me to interrogate. Taking a sign, I enter.
The throne room is grander than I imagined. A rug, -placed upon entry- is planted in the middle of the grand hall while pillars align it on both sides of the room. Which ultimately casts anyone's gaze towards the main attraction, the King.
He sits upon a throne of pure gold placed on a platform in the back of the room. Even from where I am, I can see the flicker and shine of gold and his jewels. I can tell just like all other the nobles here, he's a competitor in their display of wealth and power.
I make my towards the man with a still, unreadable expression while I scan the area around me. I can feel his eyes beseech me as I walk but I keep going.
Vases filled with flowers surround me on almost all sides. They're used as decoration, but any water in them could easily be twisted in my favor; even on land I still have control over water. Granted my power over the element isn't always up to par, but it's a better weapon to me that any sword or spike.
I could kill him now. I could drown him now in this exact room. I could take whatever the vases held and mold it into a weapon even man would fear; a weapon made purely from the sea. He'd be remembered as the King killed by a siren, in his very own throne room, due to flowers. Isn't that a way to go.
But there are guards everywhere, I can feel almost little to no water around me, and it'd be a painful death: something I'm not capable of. Not only is my own control over my powers lacking, but I don't possess the right mentality to inflict that much pain. If I can't do in the ocean, I certainly can't do it on land. No, if I killed him I couldn't do it myself. It'd have to be another way, a quick painless way.
I'm not the revengeful kind of person. Despite everything he has done to us, I wouldn't be able to deal even a sliver of it back.
If my mother wanted the King dead, it'd have to be by someone else's hand. Not mine.
Not even Arya's death could push me to become a murderer.
"Your Highness," I say as I throw myself into an almost too-forced, unstable curtsy. I can almost feel him cringe.
The King is a large man built by years of muscle, experience, and luxury. The man hasn't said I word but I can read his physical looks like an open book. I tell he's a fan of wine and all alcohol alike, judging by the belly forming. He has a beard muffled by brown and gray. By just a look I can't tell his exact age, but he's getting to the point where any accident could possibly kill him. Wrinkles on his forehead tell me he is overcome by stress, constant anxiety, and regrets of his past.
He has beige skin like his first son, blue eyes, and slightly curly brown hair covered by a crown that tops the whole look together. Despite his large belly, he looks to be strong and healthy. Perhaps this King won't be easy to kill.
"Stand," he commands suddenly as if he's eager to leave already. I do what he says and shoot him a smile that he quickly rejects, "Why are you here, Lady Northwell?"
Here was where the real game began. Of course, I had assumed that he'd ask that question before I came, and prepared an answer. The only problem was getting him to believe it and circling the rest of my answers around it.
"My father, Your Grace," I answer him with my voice almost threatening to jump out of my throat. "He decided it was time to get our family back in the public eye and-"
"Then where is the rest of your family?" He asks with a tone that's ready to strike me down at any given time.
"My mother, father, and brother are still at my family estate," I state my facts directly from the books back in Castle Avanore. My time here is being granted by borrowed knowledge, I hope it's enough to see me through.
"And why would he not send his son instead?" He interrupts me with contradictions that catch me off guard, "Why would he send his daughter? Is your brother unwell?"
I shake my head immediately, "No, my brother is well."
He stands from his throne. He's much less regal and grand than my mother. His attempt at a look of dominance barely sends any thread of fear through me. "Then why isn't he here?"
"My brother is quite caught up at our estate." The next lie comes surprisingly easily, "I'm afraid my father's health is failing, and my brother has needed to be there to learn what he could before he took on the role himself."
He makes an mhm sound before asking me his next question, "If your father is sick, why aren't you with him?"
"Your Majesty, my father wants to make sure my future is certain before he goes," I pause as I stop to think about the hole I just dug myself in. The King takes it as a sign I'm done speaking.
King James nods as his will to understand suddenly floods him, "And he sent you here to look for a marriage."
"Yes, Your Grace," I almost stutter as I respond. Now that same story will be bound to me for that whole journey. I couldn't turn back now.
The King smiles at me from above, "In that case, welcome to court, Lianna." He gives me a hand gesture towards the door, "You are dismissed."
Instantly, I curtsy and turn to leave this awful room behind. But suddenly I hear my name be called again.
"Lady Northwell, your father was a friend of mine, it's a shame his health is declining," what King James says is a statement meant to trick me. He isn't persuaded yet.
From all the books I've read, and sources I've heard, no Northwell from the last generation has stepped foot into court. And so it was impossible for King James and Lord Northwell to meet, let alone become friends. I knew he was trying to trip me up, but I wouldn't let him.
I turn myself back to the King and crusty again although I am nowhere near him. "With all due respect, Your Grace, I've never heard my father mention you and he himself hasn't been to court in years." I found myself asking the questions, "How is it possible that the two of you are friends?"
Back home, asking my mother questions was one of my biggest mistakes and now I'd just asked another ruler. Here I was, repeating old bad habits.
I was expecting him to take the whole thing badly but turns out he likes being challenged. King James simply looks me in the eye, smiles, and dismisses me without another word.
I'd won.
~
I barely walk out of the throne room before I cross paths with the fiery red-head Princess herself; Valora.
My eyes quickly drift to her head. Normally, they'd be entertained by her orange-colored hair, but instead, they find interest in the crown laying atop her head. Like everyone else here, Valora is also in on this show of dominance and power and her wardrobe clearly reflects that.
But her "crown" is just a tiny circlet with a couple of simple jewels around her head. Valora is no Queen yet.
From the moment she talks I can already tell her motives aren't fueled by the purest intentions.
"Lady Northwell," she speaks my name with a voice so sweet but yet so condescending. She smiles and I force myself to do to the same. It's sickening to know that the person that glared at you like an animal only a day ago, treats you as a friend the very next.
Her evident title outranks me by tons and it obliges me to curtsy whenever she comes near, "Your Majesty."
"Come," she says. Apparently, she also favors giving commands over free will, "Walk with me." She proceeds to walk in front of me, gesturing for me to follow her while she wears a smug look on her face. I have no choice but to follow.
She makes me walk with her until we reach a small spot in the castle's parlor. Valora sits down with her long gown trailing far behind her. She doesn't instruct me to sit and so I stand there awkwardly while she stares at me.
Valora quirks her eyebrow at me before demanding, "Sit." Despite her attempt to be kind, her snarky attitude shines through her mask like a raging fire.
Like always, I do what I'm told and take a seat by her. Before long, I can almost feel the wave of regret crash into me. As much as it might benefit me, I didn't want to talk to Valora. She seemed like she'd be the type to be on my back this whole journey, and revealing anything by accident wasn't going to make the predicament any better.
"Listen," she says. The way she speaks to me like a dog makes me want to gag. "Whatever lies you told the King today won't fool me."
I almost choke, "Excuse me?"
She rolls her eyes, "He's an old man, easily convinced. Of course, he'd believe anything you've told him." Valora looks off and shrugs her shoulders, "Well that is if you put any effort into this whole charade of yours."
I feel like I could faint. I don't know what to do or say other than to keep quiet. These are small threats, she can't prove anything.
My timid and readable expressions only reveal my fear,"Oh, calm down," she commands. "Everything I know about you is solely speculation, but if you go around here reacting to accusations like that, people are going to believe otherwise."
"Of course," I begin to say but like always is interrupted.
"That doesn't mean I trust you either, Lianna," she reminds me while she stared me up and down.
There. That same string of fear returns to me once more.
"I want you to prove to me your more than all the rumors."
Immediately, that fear is replaced by confusion. I can't help but show it.
"I want you to be my lady-in-waiting."
The sudden turn of conversation leaves me almost speechless, "I'm sorry?"
"If you can show me you're not as suspicious as I think you are, you can consider me a friend," Valora says, I can't decide if I'd actually want an entitled serpent as my ally.
I know she's only giving me this opportunity to keep an eye on me. She wants to see if I'll crack under the pressure and reveal my true motives. But she's mistaken, all my life I've survived in situations set up especially for my failure. Somehow, I lived through that, and now I'll do the same. Valora might just have to eat her own words.
I look the Princess in the eye, a smile slowly tracing my lips, "Deal."
"Good," she begins, "'No' would have been the wrong answer." With one last glare, she gets up and leaves.
Valora would definitely be a problem in the future, that I was sure of. But at least she had a good sense of house royal courts. In fact, she had already applied the most important rule but made one vital mistake.
I'll use the position to my advantage. I'll stop the humans from killing my people. And I'll obey my mother.