After the little incident with Celio's paper-wrapped rectangle, the four of us made our way to the royal kitchens, where we had free reign of all the food there. On normal occasions, we would never have been allowed to be in there, much less eat anything we wanted, but being friends with Prince Caelinus had it's perks, and endless roasted quail was one of them.

After we had stuffed ourselves with as much cranberry sauce and venison as we could, we made our way to the Grand hall, which was now empty, save for the tepid puddles of rainwater on the granite floors. Everyone who had seeked refuge from the storm had either left, since the lightning and thunder had cleared before sunset, or had stuck around to catch a free meal. Either way, they were in the Dining Hall, and we had the Grand Hall all to ourselves.

Stuffed and tired, we sank into fat armchairs before the crackling fireplace, and tried our hardest not to doze off. We sat in a lulled silence, broken only by the occasional wanderer who had lost his way in the labyrinth-like halls of the palace.

Around ten o'clock at night, we were shunned from the Great Hall, an incredibly thin man with an equally thin mustache leering over us and stiltedly informing us that the Court of Shadows required the room. When Caelinus asked why they weren't using the Room of Faces or Council Room, we received a curt explanation about how some refuge-seekers had gotten into the rooms and tracked mud into them.

"The queen didn't see them fit for use at the moment." he told us, before ushering us out.

As we filed out of the room, a group of 10 council members walked in, Queen Celeste in the front, looking as regal and as stately as ever. When she spotted her son, she beckoned him over, and placing one well manicured hand on his shoulder, began peppering him with questions. I couldn't make out what she was saying, or what Celio was responding, but I could see the frustrated and increasingly angry look on his face. Starting to feel uncomfortable, as though I was spying on a private family moment, I looked away, but not before I caught him rolling his eyes and pushing his mother's hand off his shoulder.

I spotted Severina talking to a woman who looked like her exact double, the same tightly curled dark hair, arched eyebrows, freckled skin and small, upturned nose, and Triton talking with his dad, Archer. Behind them, I saw a familiar curl of coiffed brown hair. Making my way to Malcolm, he looked up from the documents he was holding, and gave a small smile when he recognized me.

"Etharen, how are you?" he said. "I haven't seen you all day. Did you get the letter?"

I nodded, trying hard not to clench my teeth. "I did."

"Have you responded yet?" Malcolm asked.

"Not yet. I haven't had the time to." I responded. "I'll do it tonight."

Malcolm looked to either side quickly, ensuring that no one was listening to us. "And the seal?"

"With me."

"Good, good," he said absentmindedly. "Well, I'll see you tonight, then."

I gave a nod of assent, and we parted ways, him joining the rest of the Court of Shadows, and me to Caelinus, Triton and Severina.

The three of them stood outside the doors to the Great Hall. They were silent, and fidgety. Severina and Triton stood a few paces away from Celio, looking unsure and uncomfortable. Celio's features were set in stone, hard and cold. His face looked as though it was carved from marble, smooth, impassive and unforgiving.

I gingerly walked over to them. Up close, the normally light-hearted and sweet prince was even more rigid and angry. I had seen Celio upset before, when Rhea was being bullied, but he had been more frustrated and worried then. Now, he was furious. It was unsettling, seeing him like this, and it instinctively made me fidgety. I held onto the charm on Caspian's necklace, and slid it back and forth over the leather cord.

His entire face was transformed. He looked like a completely different person, someone completely unlike the Celio from a few moments ago. I suspected it had something to do with the conversation with his mother, Queen Celeste. I had seen the way his features hardened as she whispered in his ear, and the steely, stern look in the Queen of Xeoria's eyes as she gripped her son's shoulders hard, red nails digging into his shirt.

"Celio..?" I broached, stepping closer to him. My voice rang out loudly in the empty halls.

Severina and Triton were looking at me wildly, urging me to stop with their eyes, but Caelinus hardly seemed to have heard.

In hindsight, I should have heeded their warning and stopped then: after all, they were his closest friends, and knew him better than I did, but something compelled me to continue. The words seemed to flow out of me, free of my will.

"Is everything okay?" I urged. "Do you want us to leave....or are you going to tell us what happened?"

He turned his face towards me, and the sheer coldness I saw there shocked me. His features had always been sharp and precise, the jaw, the cheekbones, the arching eyebrows, bow-shaped lips, and piercing eyes, in true Xeorian fashion, but they had always been softened by the ever present smile on his face, and amused look in his eyes. He had never looked like a ruler, or prince, but like a soft-hearted schoolboy.

But now, he looks every bit the prince he is, regal, commanding and undefiable.

His dark eyes flash at me. "You've been here for less than a day." he spits, nostrils flaring. "You're lucky to even be allowed to step foot in the palace. What makes you think I'm going to tell you my life story?" His voice is sarcastic and laced with venom.

I flinch ever so slightly. The words sting, and I feel like I've been slapped. My pride flares inside, and I feel like I'm back in Eoria, seven years old again and weathering my older sibling's harsh insults.

His features soften, and guilt floods his face when he sees the momentary flash of hurt inmy eyes. But although the words that came out of his mouth did hurt, I refuse to let myself get angry, or even sad. I measure my words carefully, and try to control my feelings, as Caspian would have done.
"I was just asking." I say, void of emotion. "If you want, we'll leave. I'll leave, if my presence is bothering you so much."

He lets his head fall backwards, and heaves a huge sigh while running his hands through his hair. When he looks back up, I can suddenly see the dark bags under his eyes, and the creases of stress lining his forehead. And although his face is still rigid, there's a glimmer of resignation behind it all.

"Just forget it." he mumbles, turning on his heel.

Severina, Triton and I watch his figure retreat into the dimly lit hallway.

"He didn't mean it, you know." Triton says to me, a comforting hand on my shoulder. "He just...doesn't really know how to deal with some stuff in his life, and you just got caught in the crossfire."

I shake my head. "Shouldn't someone go after him?"

"It's always better to leave him alone when he's upset. It'll blow over, and tomorrow he'll be as chipper as a chipmunk." Severina says.

"So this happens a lot?"

"No. It's really rare. You just got unlucky." Triton responds

"Do you guys know why?" i ask curiously

Severina gives a wry look. "Only Triton. And he won't tell anyone."

Triton mimes zipping his lips shut and throwing the key away. But he stops joking for a second and looks at us seriously.

"He told me a long time ago, when we were kids. I promised I wouldn't tell anyone, and I gotta stay true to that." he shrugs.

"He'll tell us when he's ready, I guess." Severina says. She checks the tiny silver watch on her delicate wrist. "It's getting late."

I check my own watch, nearly identical to hers, and Triton's. Nearly everyone in Xeoria sports the same slim, silver-chained watch, a gift from the royal family to their citizens, under the pretense of efficiency and time-keeping. The skinny hands of the watch face to quarter past ten, hardly late at all.

An uncomfortable shimmer hangs in the air. With Celio off and angry, it feels wrong to do something without him. And as much as I hate to admit it, I can feel the weariness in my bones from being in people's presence all day. Actively interacting with people and carrying conversations for two days straight has taken it's toll on me, and all I want is to be on my own, doing something in silence.

The ache for the comfort of a book, or that tendril of steam wafting up to my face from an oddly coloured pot of mixed ingredients is undeniable. But i don't know how to excuse myself from Triton's and Severina's presence, and from the looks of it, neither can they.

"Uh, well, I should go finish unpacking." I say passively.

"We should go too." she nods, looking to Triton, who gives a non-commital shrug. "We'll see you tomorrow, at school?"

"Yeah, that's the plan."

"Okay, well, we usually meet at the fountain in the courtyard, in front of the gates at six." she says. "See us there, and we can ride to the Estate together."

I agree, and begin to make my way back to our room. I unlock the door and step inside, closing it behind me. Kicking off my boots, I immediately throw myself down on the lower bunk, mentally exhausted. I stare at the bottom of the top bunk for a while, my eyes tracing the geometric pattern engraved in it.

The stillness of the air is welcoming after the constant bustle of today. The Moving Lake, the crullon, the storm, Father's letter, Caelinus's room, eating in the kitchens, talking in the Great hall, and finally celio's outburst, it had all been exciting, but definitely draining.

I let my gaze travel to the bookshelf on the other side of the room. My curiosity peaked, i get up from my spot on the bed and examine the titles bound in leather. They're all just books about politics, thousands of pages about the labour laws and harvest distribution, and nothing catches my interest, which is ironic since these are exactly the types of books I should love. My mind wanders to the palace library, the brief glimpse I had gotten of it's countless floor to ceiling shelves packed tightly with leather-bound volume upon volumes. From what i had seen, there had hardly been any surface that wasn't covered in stacks of tattered and worn books, from chairs to tables to window-ledges and the precariously teetering tower of abandoned books on the floor that was climbing up the sides of the first bookshelf i had seen in the library.

For a few moments, I contemplate dragging my weary limbs down to the library in the hopes of finding an interesting book to curl up with, but my aching legs protest at the thought. Though in the end, the appeal of retaining some comforting aspect of my life back home in Eoria is stronger than my mental exhaustion, and I go down to the treasure cove of books fueled by the idea of finding a sliver of normalcy in my anything-but-normal life.

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