Game of Faces

Lady Evelyn of the Hills

Despite his soft features and gentle nature, the young Prince had a wicked temper, his hand colliding with the table as he expressed his emotions. The action sent pieces of the map toppling, if only war was so easy, if only the swoop of a hand could demolish the creatures of the night. Had his eyes not already been an empty black, I was sure they would have flared into darkness, expressing the anger that constantly seemed to rage within him.

“Father, I don’t think you understand the severity of the situation. The Emperor is gravely ill, should he die before his son takes the throne, our own kingdom will be in peril.”

King Francis grunted, his arms still crossed over his chest as he brooded in his chair, “He’s right father,” the crown Prince said, his tone more relaxed and calming. “Should Emperor Nero pass, his legacy will be up to question as his son will likely be killed in the fight for the crown.”

Unlike the Young Prince, King Francis and his first born looked the perfect image of Southern Royalty, they shared silver-white hair that never yellowed, and icey blue eyes that seemed too dangerously cold. The King was once known to make every woman in the kingdom swoon, but now, that job was left to Prince Casimir.

“Prince Asher is the rightful heir, everyone knows that. It’s idiotic,” the King scowled.

“Of course, it is,” the crown Prince sighed, the exasperation clears in his tone. “But that won’t stop the courts from claiming that Nero and his wife, the Emperor and Empress are not fated mates, that the child could have been anyone’s.”

The King shot a dark glare at the Prince, “this is why-” the Young Prince interjected, “we must send Fallon.”

It was now the King’s turn for outrage, he stood so swiftly that his hand collided with a nearby lamp, sending it rolling across the floor, oil spilling into the thick rug. “Shit-“ he swore, pulling his robes and cloaks away from the mess, “she’s still a girl,” he objected, his attention returning back to the matter at hand, “she’s only twenty! Not even a quarter of a century old!”

“Prince Asher is twenty five, you met him before, when he was a child, he is now a young man who is a spitting image of his father.”

“And what if Fallon dosen’t want to go? She’s still so young, some of her sister’s aren’t even married, she’s the youngest,” the King rambled as he collapsed back into his chair.

The crown Prince took his father’s hand, clasping it firmly, “Have you met your youngest daughter?” he laughed, crouching beside the King and offering him his wiry smile, the smile that made princesses and lady’s knees buckle, the charming smile of the Crown Prince.

“What is that meant to mean?”

The Young Prince’s eyeroll was so dramatic you could almost hear it “she’s a pretentious bitch, that’s what she is.”

The Crown Prince shot a dirty look at his brother, “she has been betrothed to Prince Asher since before she was born, she has known her destiny her whole life, she has known since before she could walk and talk, that she would be an Empress.”

“And thus, she’s a pretentious bitch,” the Young Prince sneered, turning from his brother and father, running his fingers along the bookcases, nearing where I was concealed behind the walls.

The Crown Prince waved his hand dismissively at his brother, “so she has trained and studied more than any of my sisters, and not just of our lands, but of those to the North, she knows cartography and embroidery, she knows how to yield a sword and how to arrange a party, she has been helping Mother for years, she has been preparing herself for this moment, her whole life.”

“Your speak too highly of her, Brother.”

“My Brother, just still mad that his youngest Sister beat him on fair grounds,” the Crown Prince hissed towards the Young Prince.

The King’s eyebrows shot up and he looked at the Younger Prince, “is this true Malcom? Did Fallon really best you?”

The Young Prince looked away and his eyes grazed over where I stood, while a childish grin grew on the face of the Crown Prince, “she did, before he left on his diplomatic travels, so she was only sixteen at the time. Dear Brother, Malcom, has denied her further requests to join her in sparring.”

This time the King chuckled, his face relaxing ever so slightly.

“Spend some time with Fallon, watch her in the Winter Festival and the Solstice Ball, look at her, not as your beloved daughter and your child, but as a young woman, as a Princess and a future Queen, a future Empress. She could be in the Northern Capital before her twenty first birthday, should Emperor Nero’s condition worsen, her marriage to Prince Asher can be swift, but should his health sustain, their engagement long and their friendship can grow.”

The King’s brows furrowed as he weighed his son’s proposition, the silence in the room was deafening and long, had it not been for the crackling fire in the corner, my own breathing would have given my position away. Then I would have been in trouble, and so would Princess Fallon, not that I was planning on selling her out…

I jumped as the king stood, his chair creaking and sliding across the stone floor as he did so, “Okay, should I deem Fallon ready, she will travel North.”

The posture of the two Princes’ relaxed, and the Crown Prince was the only one who seemed to be genuinely happy with the outcome of the conversation, “come now,” the King said, as he brushed the non-existent dirt off his robes, “we must not delay, or the queen will scold us all.”

The Crown Prince threw his arm around the Young Prince’s shoulders, “come on Mal,” he cooed, causing a deeper from to set in on his brother’s face.

“Get off me Cas,” he sneered, shoving his brother’s arm off his shoulder as they left the office.

I felt myself exhale and the stress leave my muscles as the door closed behind them, not that I expected them to know the location of the old servants corridors around the palace, but still, young princes and princess’ have been known for hiding away in the strangest of places and crawling into the darkest crevasses.

Sliding out from behind the bookcase and into the dark, stone corridor, I uncovered my lamp, and increased the oil to illuminate the dark space. Making my way back towards the Princess’ chambers with the lamp in one hand, my shoes in the other, and secrets on my lips.

* * * * * * * * * *

The guard outside Princess Fallon’s chambers looked me up and down, as if looking for a hair out of place, or perhaps his intentions weren’t so pure… “You’re late,” he growled, his voice sending chills down my spine as he looked at me sneeringly.

“Actually, she’s right on time,” a voice said from behind him, making him jump and swivel around, his hand falling to the hilt of his blade. The maid who had opened the door flinched, making Fallon frown at his actions, “She is five minutes early, and I am running late, so let her in,” she snapped at the guard, her displeasure ever evident.

I couldn’t help but smirk as I passed the guard, he was new, but not young, too arrogant to be guarding someone so important to The Continent. “Your Majesty,” I said, lowering myself into a curtsy as the door behind me closed.

She smiled softly, from her place in the middle of the room, and with her free hand she waved, gesturing for me to rise, “Lady Evelyn, how are you?” she asked.

“I am well, thank you, Your Majesty,” I replied, rising to stand and gaze upon her.

She sparkled in the late evening sunlight, the clouds had cleared making way for a sharp wind and cold night ahead, but the castle was showered in sunlight – sunlight that streamed through the large glass windows and doors of the Princess’ chambers, making her Snowsilk dress sparkle light diamonds against her pale complexion. The same silver white had been threaded through her hair which was being twisted ontop of her head to make way for her crown, while one of her hands was being occupied, as her nails were painted and fine chains wound up her wrists and arms.

“That is wonderful to hear, how did you go? Were you able to achieve what I requested?” she asked.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” I replied, bowing my head as I slipped a sealed piece of paper from my sleeve and handed to her.

The Hand Maids who were working on one of her hands, halted, retrieving a letter opener for her and placing it in her open hand. With a swift swoop, the parchment was opened and her hand rested back down to it’s place where nails were now being dried with a small fan.

Her facial expression didn’t change, her eyes scanning what I had written with great speed, before she folded the paper once again, and placed it in her lap, her tongue clicking as she looked back up at me.

“Were their many ears and eyes watching too?” she asked.

“There were many holes in such a room, and rodents always scurry and poke their noses where they should not.”

She smiled at my remark, “very well, thank you, I trust you understand what arrangements need to be made now?” she said.

“Of course your Majesty, as soon as you give the word, everything will be ready.”

“Marvellous,” she hummed and her handmaids stepped away from her, one holding up a piece of polished silver, her reflection looking back at her. Turning her head side to side, she inspected her reflection, her pointed ears were covered with silver wires that seemed to bleed down her neck and become the silver chains of her necklaces – which twisted and turned into a single knot between her breasts.

“As always ladies, thank you very much, and Grace,” she said, giving a friendly smile to the seamstress, “You’re a true miracle worker.” giving a satisfied nod when she was happy.

The Ladies Maids lowered into curtsies and left without saying a single word, as Fallon stood, brushing her skirt down as she did so. With the crown placed ontop of her head, a silver nest of diamonds and Sapphires, she reminded me of the rolling hills in winter, laden in snow and ice, but non-the less, breathtakingly beautiful.

Her betrothed is a lucky man, if he knew it or not.

Stepping away from the chair, her dress sung as the Snowsilk met the stone floor, her heels loud and asserting dominance. With a flick of her hand, she watched as the envelope caught alight as she held it above a candle, as the flames began to lick around her fingers, she dropped it into a metal bowl.

“Thank you, Evelyn. I am not sure I will be able to repay you for your services.”

“It’s an honour to be able to assist you in such a meaningful manner,” I smiled, bowing my head.

She smiled again, and took a thick fur pelt off it’s stand, throwing the white and black fur over her shoulders and fastening it on the clips around her deep v-line.

“How do I looked?” she asked, turning to face me as she gestured to herself.

I smiled, “Like an Empress, your Majesty.”

She smiled once again, but as her arm linked with mine, the grip she held on me was firm and tight. Her façade may have been strong, but had she been the type, I’m sure her knees would buckle, and her lip would quiver. For Princess Fallon, her future, her life, her country, and The Continent, were now weighing on tonight.