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“Oh, I see you,” she sneered, that ice still in her voice. “I simply don’t want others to.”
“You…?” I couldn’t make any more words come. I stood there in my dirty dress, mouth hanging open as my fury pulsed and burned.
“Father!” I finally yelled, turning to him, but he only sat and sagged in his chair, his Catalyst unmoving behind him, although he had stepped closer since we had arrived. “Father! Do something! You can’t let this happen!”
“Oh, he already has. It was signed this morning.” The Queen sat there, smiling victoriously. My Father didn’t so much as flinch.
“Mother, don’t be ridiculous,” Batian interrupted before any more of her slimy insults found a way out. “She is my sister. Of course she will be at my wedding. She will be present for all of the celebrations. As the future Ramal, I will see it no other way.”
His hand wrapped around my shoulder again, snuffing out my inferno. My shoulders sagged as I faced her, each breath agony to get past the painful pressure in my chest.
“Batian, my child, as the future Ramal you may not see it yet, but you will. We simply cannot have her present for this event. We will say what we always do, that she is too sick to attend. The court will understand. They always understand. As Elara will understand. Won’t you, girl?”
Girl, not child. Not daughter. Not Princess. Not Elara.
Girl.
I lifted my head, staring into her lifeless eyes before looking back to where Batian’s Catalyst and the Boy stood, both unmoving. Both without names, just like me.
Well, like she was trying to make me.
By the Goddess, I wasn’t going to let that happen.
“No. I won’t. I’m going to the wedding.” I was firm. I was still trying to control myself like Batian had asked, although seeing as he kept trying to pull me back this perhaps wasn’t exactly what he had in mind.
Too bad. This was worth fighting for.
“He is my brother, my future king, and Aeinya will be my sister. I will not miss this wedding.” At least I wasn’t yelling, but with all the fury on her face I might as well have been.
She slowly stood, the fabric of her dress cracking as though it had been coated in a fine layer of ice.
“You wish to bring embarrassment to this house? You wish to bless your brother’s union with the curse of your misfortune? All for a wedding! You selfish girl! Do you think of nothing but yourself?”
“I—” I didn’t know how to respond to that. He was my brother. Why shouldn’t I get to attend his wedding? But, looking into the frozen blue of her eyes, I was suddenly second-guessing. Was I selfish? Would I ruin his wedding?
“He’s my brother!” It was all I could think of to say, and it came out as a shout and a sob.
“Enough!” Queen Dalyah screamed, cutting her hand through the air and sending a shower of ice spikes to the floor. “I will hear no more of this selfish insubordination. You will do as you are told, and you will respect the place in the court I have so graciously given you.”
“Mother! You can’t be serious, this is abhorrent—” Even Batian was yelling as he whipped past me.
“I will hear no more! My word is law! Boy! Take her out of here!” Dalyah screamed, that icy voice echoing over the stone and glass as more of her ice spikes pelted the floor.
“Father!” I yelled, turning toward him as the gloved hands of the Boy wrapped around my arms. “You are the Ramal! Do something!”
Even as the Boy dragged me back, I stared at Father, at those eyes that looked into me and past me at the same time. What in the world was going on?
“Father!” Still no response. He sat there as Mother grinned, the Boy dragging me away.
“Leave me!” I yelled when the Boy had taken me almost to the door, when it was clear that Father would do nothing but stare. “I can walk on my own.”
I lifted my chin defiantly. If she was going to kick me out of there, I was going to leave as obstinately as I could. I took only two steps when the worn toe of my shoes caught on my torn and dropped hem and sent me forward. I had almost hit the floor when the Boy grabbed me, his gloved hands around my waist as a sharp inhale issued from behind his mask.
I couldn’t even charge my way out of there properly.
“Oh, and Elara,” Dalyah’s voice slithered over to me as I shrugged out of the Boy’s grip. “Do try to wear something nicer when I send for you next. You look like we plucked you from one of those awful Qits.”
Disgust flowed from her as she stared me down, lip curled, eyes narrowed. I stood there, frozen, looking for any sign of care in her. There was nothing but ice. Batian’s lips were pressed together as he stared, the silent promise to fix this, to somehow change her mind, beaming through those coal colored eyes.
