Word Count: 2115

~Avila

I stare out across the ballroom, letting my gaze drag over each person in turn.

This has all happened so quickly. My mother's annual ball is here and I've already been introduced to six people who immediately broke into stories about the old me.

Most just stay their distance, watching from afar like they fear they will contract whatever sickness they thought I once had.

I don't mind. I don't feel like talking much tonight.

Crimson crosses the ballroom with grace and ease, her smile curving up as she approaches me. Her dress is a deep shade of red, so magnificent it draws the attention of everyone she passes by.

"Wow, you look beautiful." She takes my hands into hers, looking over me.

"Thank you," I say, knowing she picked it out for me. I came into my room earlier today and it was laid across my bed.

The fabric is stark white, the diamond encrusted bodice constricting my ribs while the skirts flow dramatically around my legs. It looks like a wedding dress, which I assume is the idea. A large point of this ball is to advertise Vade and I's up and coming nuptials.

It's ironic, really. Vade hasn't been near me the entire night, although I don't think anyone has noticed.

"You look like the Princess you are," she gushes, shifting to stand next to me as we overlook the rest of the people who stand around drinking and eating. They have yet to start dancing.

I fold my arms over my chest. "I don't feel like one."

I've been in a bad mood all day. I'm not sure why because the festivities are actually quite fun. The whole time I've been here since waking in the tomb the ballroom has been empty aside from a few pieces of furniture covered in white cloth. Now, the place has been dressed up divinely, the theme black and red.

I'm the only one dressed in white. I look like prey amongst predators.

"I want to apologise about what happened the other night," she muses, watching the side of my face. "You understand it is just because we are trying to find answers."

My jaw tightens. I'm having a hard time forgiving her for this, although I suppose I understand. We need to test everything. I just wish she didn't use methods like that.

"Do you truly believe dark magic is involved?" I ask lowly.

If anyone were to overhear, the news would spread faster than fire through the woods in summer.

"That's what we are trying to find out," Crimson responds, smiling at a couple who passes us by.

"And did they find anything?"

"The findings they did manage to scrounge together were inconclusive," she responds tightly, clearly irritated at the results, which only turned out that way because Vade managed to save me before anything more invasive could be done.

"Oh..."

I can't decide if I'm grateful for that or not. Part of me wants to know, and the other doesn't. Even if dark magic was involved, knowing that would only hurt me.

"People at this ball tonight have been warned against speaking to you about your old life," Crimson explains. "They know to introduce themselves, but not to overwhelm you."

That hasn't exactly been the case tonight, however, I appreciate the effort at the very least.

"That's a relief," I say anyway.

"Still, this is important." She looks over me in case there's something lacking. "The people in attendance will be monitoring you closely, examining your health. If they find something array, they will not hesitate to spread the news that you're not capable of becoming Queen."

I straighten my shoulders at her words, wondering if there's a way I can appear healthy, even though I know I am.

I just need to make sure I don't have a flashback in front of them.

"Are you serious? Why are we doing this then?" I question lowly. It's obvious that everyone's eyes shift to me every few minutes, surveying me.

If they are looking for something wrong, then why have them here?

"There are mutterings of a curse, dark magic and sickness. This ball will dispel such rumours as people realise you are perfectly normal and healthy." She brushes some invisible lint off my shoulder.

"I hope so." I feel unworthy just standing here.

Crimson turns to me, pressing her finger against the side of my chin so my gaze shifts to the other side of the room. Vade stands alone, drinking alone, gazing out at everyone, disinterested.

"Make sure you dance with your prince. People want to believe you are in love," she encourages.

He wouldn't reject me were I to venture over, but I don't want him to feel obliged to spend time with me just for all these vulture's eyes.

"I wish my father were here," I say instead of moving.

I haven't heard from him since he left, and I don't suspect I will. He doesn't seem like the type to write letters unless it serves him.

"As do I," Crimson mutters, the bitter edge to her tone not lost on me. "Unfortunately there is tension in an old Province to the west. He's doing his best to come home when possible."

"I understand." I don't believe her. I don't think he's rushing home at all.

Crimson melts back into the crowd as Pria and a man whose arm she has hers linked through walks over to me. Pria looks stunning, her sandy blonde hair is curled into tight ringlets, pulled back her face. Her dress is a light, frothy pink that sparkles in the light.

"You look incredible, Av." She looks over me, her grin bright and vibrant.

"You too, Pria."

"This is Jamie, my fiancé that I wanted you to meet."

Her words divert my attention to the tall, lanky man next to her. He looks over me, a little spooked before he offers a shy smile.

"It's lovely to meet you." He shakes my hand with delicate fingers, like he's afraid I'll break.

Or perhaps he is scared of falling to the dark magic everyone assumes plagues me.

"You too, Jamie."

"I'm glad to see you are in such good health, your majesty," he offers, stumbling a little over his words. I forget my position of power in this court is enough to make people nervous around me.

"I'm feeling very well," I assure him. "When are you two getting married?"

"After you, of course. No one can marry within a month of the royal wedding." Pria giggles, gazing up at Jaime with affection in her eyes that has my heart stuttering.

They seem so perfectly suited. Can love really be that easy, that simple?

"Really?"

"We don't mind waiting," Jamie says, smiling back down at Pria.

She rests her hand on his chest, her simple diamond ring glittering under the light of the chandelier. "No, we don't."

I glance down at the gaudy monstrosity on my finger that apparently belonged to my great, great grandmother. Mother insisted I wear it, to affirm Vade and I's engagement.

Looking over Pria's shoulder I see Vade hasn't moved, still sipping at what must be a freshly filled glass of alcohol.

"Do you mind if I go see my own fiancé?" I ask the pair in front of me.

Pria pats my shoulder. "Of course, go right ahead."

Brushing past them, I head toward Vade. I'm not sure what I want to say to him, but he looks so effortlessly beautiful in his suit. His deep brown waves are seated perfectly around his statuesque face, accenting his impassive expression.

He looks completely uninterested in this affair. His tie is loosened and the top button of his white shirt is undone.

Upon seeing me approach, he straightens, his gaze holding mine.

Slowly, purposefully, he sets down his glass, readying himself for my presence. I watch his tongue brush against his lower lip slowly, like he's anticipating more than just a casual meeting.

Someone glides in front of me, their large form hiding Vade from my vision.

"Hello, Avila," they greet in a deeply masculine voice.

I've never seen them before, but in a way, I know I have. Their eyes are a silvery blue, which I've only seen on one other person. Their hair is obsidian black with a smattering of grey hairs, and he's dressed lavishly.

"Oh. Do I know you?" I ask uneasily.

"You once did, I suppose." He brazenly looks over my figure. "My name is Evrek, Vade's father. May we dance?"

He holds out his hand and I freeze.

Of course. He looks a lot like a more mature version of Vade, although his face appears to be fashioned into a permanent sneer.

"You're the man who told the world that I'm alive," I grit out. I take his hand anyway. People's eyes are straying in our direction, and denying my future husband's father a dance wouldn't be appreciated.

"It slipped out. I'm not sure why, but I figured that it would have already been announced." He shrugs casually, taking on no responsibility for what he did.

This ball should have been my re-announcement. He ruined that.

"You were wrong," I mutter distastefully.

He lowers his head as we sway to stale music, his mouth close to my ear. "My sincerest apologies."

We turn and I see Vade again. He hasn't moved, staring us down with a hardened gaze. Considering how tense he is, I'm assuming he's considering interrupting.

"Are you sure you didn't want to secure Vade's marriage to me?" I ask.

He pulls back a bit so he can look at me. "Would it be a crime if I did?"

My stomach churns. Is everyone in the royal sphere so poisonous?

"It would be if it meant you announced my return as princess before I had a chance to do it myself," I remind him coldly. I will not be made to feel like I shouldn't be angry at him.

"The people have a right to know their princess is in good health." His hand tightens against my lower back, bunching the fabric up.

"I needed time. It was not your right."

"Shh, your majesty." He laughs roughly under his breath, like he finds amusement in my biting tone. "My son would like us to have a happy relationship."

I get the feeling Vade wouldn't care at all, and not just because of how he feels about me. He wasn't pleased about how his father handled the situation, and I get the feeling there's more going on behind the scenes than what I'm privy to.

"What makes you think I care about what Vade thinks?"

"I've heard whispers that you have changed. Perhaps I'm wrong about that."

He's baiting me.

I focus on his face, refusing to be intimidated by him. "You know nothing about me, and I would prefer you never do."

"Look at my son," he instructs coolly, twisting us so I'm once again looking at Vade.

He tilts his head to the side slightly, like he's asking if he needs to intervene. I shake my head ever-so-slightly, not wanting him to make a scene.

"He is going to make an excellent King, and an excellent husband," Evrek murmurs lowly. "I do not suggest maintaining your bad habits once you marry him."

I frown. "Bad habits?"

"Entertaining other men."

My stomach turns. How many people know about that? It feels like everyone, and yet no one wants to confront me on it. It's like they don't want me to know about something, and it's beyond frustrating.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I reply smoothly, calmly.

"Our pasts have ways of following us, Miss Avila. Beware," Evrek breathes, before he lets me go, vanishing into the crowd.

I just stand there, letting other couples dance around me, murmuring under their breath about my strange behaviour.

I glance to the exit, keen to escape onto the lawn so I can get a breath. This room is warm, filled with alcohol ridden bodies that laugh and dance animatedly.

Before I can leave the dance floor, a presence stirs from behind me.

Whirling around, I see a figure darting toward the exit. Dark hair, dark clothing. When they turn, they look in my direction, confirming my suspicions.

Emerick.

Picking up my skirts, I start off after him. We need to talk.

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