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Sadie’s mouth parted, but no words came out. Every time he talked to her, she froze. Like her coach on the sidelines, I internally willed her to find a voice.
“Yes, Your Highness.” I nearly whooped as she finally spoke. “My full name is Sadira.”
His features warmed every time she talked to him, as though her voice acted as his reward. “May I call you that? Lady Sadira?”
“You may call me whatever you wish, milord.” As if to remind him of his station, Sadie lowered herself and dipped her chin, but as she brought their joined grip to her forehead, Blair sucked in her breath through her teeth.
I stole a glance to check on her. Lip trembling, face turned to the ground, she looked ready to burst into tears. Did I miss something? Even Fitz appeared shocked by whatever had transpired.
It was like the goats, some Nolcovian tradition I didn’t understand. But no one in the so-called winner’s circle looked happy about it as Sadie joined their ranks.
“Lady Fallon.” She brightened as Fitz spoke her name. Fallon took two steps forward, but Fitz put up his hand to stop her. “I had planned to ask you to stay, but I’ve heard rumor of your treatment toward others and I’m afraid I can’t tolerate it. Please step back.”
Fallon’s angular face twisted in pain. “But I’m not the only one.” Her finger pointed at the others. “They’re just as bad, and yet you let them stay?”
“This is not for debate.” Though he faced her like a wall of stone, exhaustion waited below the surface. “I have record of your misdeeds and if I gain the same for any of them, they’ll earn an equivalent fate.”
“But this isn’t fair! First, you make them ladies of court and then we’re supposed to act like they deserve to be here, and now you’re saying—” She turned to the rest of us. “Which of you said something? Who ratted me out? A bunch of skints and paupers who never deserved to be here in the first place. I can’t believe you would dare to destroy the future of a real lady of—”
“Enough.” The fire in Fitz’s eyes returned, kindled by Fallon’s hateful rant. “It wasn’t any of them. Footage was captured of you harassing Lady Sa—” he caught himself, “Lady Sadira, and it won’t be tolerated.” He flicked his hand. “Guards, remove her.”
Blair’s hand gripped mine as the guards escorted Fallon from the room. Unlike Lilith, the red-haired noble went without a fight. Lighting shifted to follow her, a spotlight that highlighted her fall from grace. But before the doors closed, she jerked her arm free, spun to face Fitz, and issued her final words.
“Beware, Your Highness.” The spotlight only amplified her crazed expression. “Your bloodline is marked for death!”
“Cut the feed!” Tom yelled over the top of her ranting. The crew sprang to life, but Fallon wasn’t even close to done.
“The whispers grow to screams inside your head, and they will not be silenced. Civil war approaches, and I could have saved you, but now… I swear, you’ll never take the throne. A corpse before you’re ever a king!”
The double doors slammed shut, silencing her venom. I braced myself. The last time someone issued threats, the whole place went nuts, but all around me, people stood still, shocked, and scared.
“Can we get back to one, please? Reset the feed.” Tom tried to act as though nothing had happened, but how could we pretend? How much had been broadcast? Fitz turned away, face strained, hands locked around his head as though the screams she’d promised had come early.
“Get eyes on the king,” I heard a guard call out.
“He’s with her majesty. He’s fallen ill. A full squad is with them.”
“Double it.”
Their chatter left me uneasy. Tom called again to get the feed back up and running. “The kingdom needs to see the prince. Technical difficulties can only last so long. Start recording!”
Blair still clung to me like a refuge in a storm. I turned to her, speaking carefully, seeking some understanding. “You’ve lived here most of your life, right?” She didn’t answer, other than a wide-eyed nod. I glanced at the room still gripped in partial chaos. “Is this normal?”
“No,” tears welled in her eyes, “we’re not a perfect people, but I had no idea this much hatred waited in the dark.”
“Places, people!” Tom shouted for everyone to get back to where we had been. “You’re safe. Remember, nothing is wrong. We need happy faces!”
Was he kidding? Another threat had been issued against Fitz and the royal family, and he wanted us to pretend like nothing had happened? While he sorted out the crowd of frightened ladies of court who’d bunched up like a peewee soccer team around a ball, I focused on Fitz.
His chest rose and fell steadily, but it was because of effort, not instinct. The burden of his life and his decisions wore on his physical strength, dragging him down, chin to his chest, brow wrinkled as though it hurt to be alive. We were only on the second day. How was he going to weather the rest? I couldn’t help but feel like I was failing him.
“Okay, we’re back in five, four, three…” The countdown from Tom jolted Fitz back to the present. Once again, he didn’t have a choice. He had to perform. “Two.” Tom mouthed the word ‘one,’ and backed away as the cameras moved into position.
“Sorry,” Fitz mumbled to himself as the focus came back.
No one had checked on him. Tom and the others had made sure the rest of us were okay, Security went over a checklist with the king, and even Kabir had watched me for any sign of distress, but no one had stopped to make sure Fitz wasn’t on the edge of a breakdown. He laughed lightly, but I didn’t sense any joy in it, more like the bitter snicker of someone ready to crack. Was he about to tell everyone what had happened, despite the crew’s best efforts to keep it hidden?
I could imagine the words: Sorry, we had to take a break so yet another person could threaten my life. Tell me again why I want this job.
