“Good morning, Princess,” he said, smiling brightly and looking like he just woke up and stepped off the cover of a magazine. “I am pleased to see that you are finally awake.”
God I hated morning people.
I stalked over to the pile of clothing and grabbed a pair of navy blue breeches and matching short-sleeve tunic. I started toward the bathroom, pausing when I noticed Dey's expression had gone from chipper to slightly wary.
“What?” I barked.
“Are you well?” he asked, his brow furrowing slightly.
“Fucking dandy,” I muttered, cursing the lack of coffee in this stupid world, then trudged back into the bathroom. I never did apologize to Dey for my earlier behavior, but I doubted my foul, sleep-deprived mood was the best for attempting a ‘sorry I’m such a bitch sometimes’ conversation.
I spent over five minutes fighting with the weird lace-up bra before I finally got it secured, then pulled on the pants and tunic.
As ready to face the day as I was going to get, I left the bathroom, casting up a silent prayer that caffeine of some kind existed in this place.
We entered the dining room, and my father was sitting in his usual place at the head of the table, once again shirtless though his loose pants were burgundy today.
“Good morning, Raynella,” he said cordially. “You were missed at dinner last night.”
“Yeah, sorry,” I said, sliding into my chair. “I wasn’t really up to a big fancy meal. In fact, I meant to tell you that I was kind of hoping to keep things a little low key during my time here.”
He waved a hand to the servants who promptly disappeared then turned back to me. “Raynella, you are the princess. The entire court is most excited to meet you.”
“I get that,” I said, avoiding his disappointed expression by tracing one of the swirly designs carved into the table. “But I'm not going to be here for long, and I’m not super comfortable with big groups of people, especially ones that are all staring at me
“You are still planning to leave then?” he asked with a heavy sigh. “What about your kingdom, Raynella? Rivella is your home, and your people need you.”
I didn’t say anything, not wanting to get into this same argument again. A servant set a plate of food in front of me, and I tore into it, grateful for an excuse not to talk.
The three of us ate in silence, until Dey commented, “I heard that you had a bit of an incident before bed, Princess.”
I thought back to the attack in the hallway, and the guy who reminded me of dark nights on a turbulent sea. “Oh yeah, I had a bit of a run in with a supreme asshole.”
Dey’s fork halted halfway to his mouth. “What are you talking about? Did something else happen last night?”
I glanced between him and my father, both staring intently at me. “Uh, yeah? I sorta ran into this guy in the hallway. He pushed me around a bit. Isn’t that what you meant by incident?”
“No, Princess,” Dey said, “I was referring to your encounter with Jeylana. One of the servants mentioned you were in her room.”
“What?!” my father bellowed, and I cringed at his oddly explosive anger.
Dey was out of his chair in seconds, kneeling before his king. “Apologies, Your Highness, I thought surely you had been informed as well. I can not imagine that a servant would tell me before discussing it with you first.”
My father clenched his teeth, then waved a hand sharply at Dey. “Leave us. I wish to speak with my daughter alone. Go find Cennux Dreisin. He was supposed to join us for breakfast.”
Dey stood and briskly exited the dining room.
“You didn’t have to treat him like that. It wasn’t his fault,” I pointed out.
My father’s features softened as he slipped back into the kind male I met yesterday. “You are right, Raynella. I should not have been so curt. I was… unavailable this past evening so it displeased me to hear about your encounter with Jeylana. I had hoped to be with you when you met her.”
I took a sip of the pink kinna juice and eyed my father, wondering if his Jekyll and Hyde routine was normal. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have been snooping, but her door was open and I was curious.” I bit my lip, trying to think of the best way to phrase the question I was itching to ask. “Is she, um… is she your daughter also? Because I thought they all died.”
Well that didn’t come out quite as smoothly as I hoped.
A look of pain washed over my father’s face as he lowered his fork. “Raynella,” he began slowly, “when I told you that my children succumbed to the plague I was being truthful. I had hoped to spare you the unpleasant details, but the disease is not a physical one. It is a plague of madness, driving those infectedto take their own life or…” he paused, and I couldn’t bear the sadness in his eyes. “Or we are forced to take it for them.”
“You kill them?” I asked, horrified. “Couldn’t you tie them down or something?”
