The smell of lies was overbearing. It was like poisonous gas surrounding us, but only a few could tell what were lies and what wasn't. The man behind all the lying was sitting on his throne before getting up on his old knees. He stood up tall and proud, an authoritative figure nobody dared to question. I frowned a bit as his misleading words spilled out of his mouth. His speech was drawn out and draining. His voice made it even more difficult to listen to, slow and hesitating for an uncomfortable amount of time. As much as I was excited for the brutal days of combat training to be over, I didn't want to stay anymore. He flashed an awkward grin, slowly moving down to the floor. His footsteps were heavy as he looked down at us as he inched closer.
"You've all passed your training with flying colors and arrows. Literally." He paused as some people chuckled, recalling all of the weapon training we had to endure for more than three months straight. "And now, I'm proud to call you, my guards, and my family." He smiled as everyone clapped; some even hollered and cheered. Probably not because we've been promoted to being knights, but because the long days of hell on earth were over.
He smiled politely before sneaking a glance at the orchestra, nodding to signal he was done. As the slow and almost depressing music played in the background, people finally let out that breath they've been holding in this whole time. Some let out a long and deep breath of relief, the crushing feeling of having the King of Paymor stand in front of you gone. Loud, crisp sounds of people patting each other on the back and laughing were accompanied by the foul smell of fish and durian fruit making their way to the ballroom. As the celebrations began, I slowly made my way past the crowds of people, shuffling out of the ballroom.
To start with, the ballroom was huge. A perfect compliment to the massive castle. Easy enough to get lost in the dazzling decorations, the rushing of chefs and butlers carrying trays full of savory foods stacked high, and easy to be drawn to the fun look of dancing and being snatched by someone looking for another type of fun. The chandeliers overtop of us were, at first, dim. I could only assume to make sure that only the king, the one with all the shiny jewels and brightest smile, could be seen better. It was as if we weren't looking at him already; the man with enough power to kill an entire nation and never be stopped just stood in front of us for heaven's sake. Now, however, it was blinding to have them turned up all the way, making my eyes burn and hurt.
Stairs leading to the second floor of the ballroom were left off to the sides, allowing the dance floor to be in the middle. I didn't dare step up there, seeing as some people were giggling and kissing while barely making their way upstairs, but I could tell that tables were left up there for dining as well. The ballroom was littered with so many people, making it hard to find the brunette girl.
Knowing my best friend, Remy, she was probably long gone by now. Even as kids, she was always the first to join a party and last to leave, but this kind of party she hated the most. I groaned, searching for her long braided hair that was always off to the side of her shoulder and the smell of sandalwood that always lingered in the air when she walked by. Every time I moved, another person was shoved out of my way, giving me a quick glare as I passed by. Despite all the search and rescue training we did and how well I did, Remy was always the hardest to find. She was often doing things on her own, always following the crowd despite knowing what was right and wrong. She was like a puppy, following her mom's every move.
"Thought we were gonna stick together? Or were you leaving me already?" A deep but familiar voice asked. I spun around on my boot's heel, creating a tiny skid mark on the marble floor. She had her arms crossed, looking down at me like I was some ant. And to Remy, I was.
Despite what people thought, she towered over me at an early age. She was taller, the 'prettier and more attractive friend' to look at compared to me. Being compared to my best friend made me feel small, a useless thing compared to her. Just like how I was like an ant to her, so were my fears and insecurities. She squashed them away like she would for any kind of pest, making me feel better each time I saw her.
I glanced up at her before she finally smirked, "Get lost or something, you idiot?" She cackled, messing up my neatly tied back hair. She knew my hair was my best trait—long and silky black but also nicely put together. I pushed her hand off me, glaring at her while straightening my hair out again for the third time tonight. I changed the subject, knowing it would distract her from teasing me.
"How'd you like our little promotion from hell? Having the devil himself deliver the speech and everything." I asked, glancing back up at her. She rolled her eyes before we slowly walked back to the loud ballroom that was more like a bar with mad drunkards now. "Let's just kill them already." She grumbled while not trying to hide her frowning. I stood there by the main entrance of the ballroom, which was left wide open by two twin butlers, letting the black double doors with swirling decorations wide open to anyone. I turned back to her, looking at her for a second. "We will. Soon."
The room was filled with people eating fish and drinking wine. At first glance, people would say it's a party full of drunk teenagers, seeing as some of the guests were drunk to their wits end. Although now more people had joined the fun it had seemed. Long lines of people were now lining up to grab what was supposed to be a 'quick bite' and more families were piled into tables trying to make more room. The Kingdom brought some of their best orchestras together to play for our graduation, along with some noticeable celebrities. Some famous actors and singers joined in the party, getting greeted by ol' King Jakobe himself. It seemed as if it were a glamorous party, an average one hosted by the Kingdom of Paymor. With all the best of things you could want right at your fingertips, Paymor had it all. Wine, cake, and laughter all made up the perfect distraction for what was really going on behind the scenes. Some of the knights were dancing, cracking up jokes, and drinking to their heart's content, unaware of the things I knew. It was sickening. Not the fact that they were completely clueless, but the fact that I knew too much for just a knight.
There were more than a hundred new knights, making it hard to fit all of us in a single ballroom. Even the richest of people couldn't afford a large ballroom for that many people, forcing us to split into separate graduations. As if the already cramped ballroom wasn't tight enough, some uninvited family members joined their loved ones' party. I kept to myself, as usual, viewing the large bodies of people shuffling around while sipping my wine. People bumped into each other constantly, some knocking their food onto the floor and not bothering to pick it up after the third time. My gaze shifted around, looking for who I was really here for.
The Royal Family seemed to be the only ones not enjoying the party. Each of their faces was dull, bored out of their very minds. The King was one of the people I was worried about the most. He seemed cold and collected. Deep down, King Jakobe knew danger was heading his way. Even if the danger was standing closer to him than he thought.
With his head up high and eyes narrowing in on the crowd, he acted as if he had nothing to fear with all the chaos around him. He ran his thick golden fingers through his black hair, flashing his shiny forehead to the crowd. He then noticed a single sapphire jewel on his suit that was crooked, glancing down as he fixed it. His suit was average for a king. Glamorous, shiny jewels, and medals proudly stood out on his suit. His silver crown slanted off to the side a bit before having his wife, Queen Kyrah, push it back in place for him.
The Queen was more than a perfect match for King Jakobe. Almost everyone knew her upbringing, some daring to say she was brought up worse than those in gang neighborhoods. In a way, I could relate to her. The Queen grew up in a horrible neighborhood filled with constant violence and hatred of people. No wonder she was known to be a ruthless executor. Queen Kyrah was a perfect match for the ruthless and cold-hearted King of Paymor, supporting his every decision. She glanced at her husband, seeing as he had no intention to get up and talk or dance; she was the first to get up. Her dress was stunning, putting to shame some of the most beloved celebrity outfits. Her corset was a shining gold matched with a matte black, mixing together to bring out her green eyes well. The silver jewels seemed heavy as she drifted her way down. Her dress had slits on the sides, allowing her legs more air to breathe as she slowly stepped down to the dance floor before heading up to the second story. My eyes drifted off her as two other figures stood out. The two royal siblings were once sitting next to the Queen. With her majesty gone, it was easy to spot them, sitting still and with their hands on their laps. Only one of them was important to me, though. Prince Zeke.
Prince Zeke was known for being like his father. Cold, calm, and well collected. And just as ruthless and cruel when he needs to be. As the next heir to the kingdom, the prince was the one to watch out for.
I watched him for a bit, glancing around to make it less obvious I was staring at his highness. It was like watching the news talk about something boring, quickly boring me out of my mind. I stood up, already tired, excusing myself from the table full of drunks who probably already forgot I was there. Fetching a butler, I snatched two glasses from him, not able to escape his look of worry. Wandering around a bit, I finally found a nice quiet area off to the side, leaning my back against the marble wall. Crossing my arm to allow my other elbow to rest on it, I sipped on the bitter wine. My eyes widened suddenly, seeing the seemingly quiet and antisocial Prince and Princess make their way down to the floor. Their walk was almost as graceful as their mothers, stepping down the jade stairs while not glancing up at the dance floor to see who was watching.
The Royal Prince, who looked more like his father in terms of facial features, was actually taller than the King. His harsh gaze was set on the small groups of people laughing and chatting loudly, annoyed by their mere presence. Suddenly, as if a switch went off inside him, he changed. His dark, thick eyebrows relaxed, smoothing out on his dull face and stringing together a thin smile before disappearing again. It was like that of an actor—the ability to switch emotions right before a scene. His expression stayed the same, calm and neutral, as I watched him. He was serious even when picking up a conversation with some comedians known for making even the most serious person laugh. Instead, his gaze was fixed on the doors near the outside, as if he wanted to be freed from this mess. I never thought I'd relate to a prince like that until now.
His sister, Princess Gia, was the opposite. She was easy to read, loud, and so bubbly it was annoying. I was surprised that she didn't walk down to talk before her mother. Most people seemed to be more drawn to her, as she smirks at them and exchanges light playful touches. She seemed to avoid most of the men, though. Only the brave ones decided to strike up a conversation with her. Well, almost a conversation.
It was clear she wasn't interested at all while even ignoring them right to their faces. Clearly too good to be bothered by them. She never looked at any of them once and they finally walked away embarrassed with their tails between their legs. She held her head high, flirting with all the women she could. She took after her mother, getting as much attention from people as she wanted. She had most of them in her hand, strangling all the attention and love from them until she finally got bored. She waltzed away, having a few stray puppies follow her but ultimately leaving like the few that did before them.
A king who seemed more bored than anything, a social butterfly for a queen, a prince who was like his father but puts more effort into being social, and a princess who was a player. An interesting mess of a family I was more than ready to untangle in front of the world.
The prince was light on his feet, making past large crowds of people without being caught up by them. It was like watching flies being lured in by a light, unable to leave his side.
"He's so boring. What the hell do people even see in a guy like him?" Remy asked, rolling her eyes before sipping her drink. I nodded, looking back at him. This time, he was caught up talking with someone. His hands were at his sides, flashing his jewelry to us poor people. "They most definitely want his money. Look at him; he's basically showing off how rich he is. Hell, I'd try to steal from him too if I could." She nodded, squinting her eyes to see better. People were leaving now, yawning as they passed by us. Nothing exciting was happening anymore; the rush of being celebrated and the happy feelings died down. A bunch of drunkards stumbled out of the ballroom, collapsing in a heap on the floor only for other knights to pick them back up. Remy was never tired, not since working as a boxer by night. But even she was yawning.
"It's almost midnight. I'm heading out. You can stay here for all I care. Just don't die, 'kay?" She slapped my back, making me spill some of my wine on the floor. I groaned, seeing the red mess on the floor now. Just one more thing I needed, another mess to deal with.
Suddenly, a group of people shouted. The stomping of someone running closer and closer to me made me jolt, looking up straight. "Stop her! Stop her!" An older man yelled, causing some to chase after whoever this lady was. A lady in red was running, her dress held up by her hands to avoid tripping. She was smooth on her feet, fighting her way out of people's reach, and had her head up for the doors. I could see the look of determination on her face, a clear sign she was excited to get away with whatever she had done. A look I wanted to erase from her face.
Suddenly, she stopped, gasping as she fell right on her butt. Right in front of me. Clearly, the lady wasn't expecting a wine spill to stop her, just like I wasn't expecting a bunch of jewels to be in her hand. A small grin made its way to my face. A single ring, a diamond watch, and two pairs of earrings. I snatched the ring out of her hand first, looking at it.
"No! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" She cried, being picked up by some other guards by the arms. I held the ring in my hands, looking at it more delicately. It was beautiful, truly one that was so expensive that most could only dream of having. "How dare you steal from the Prince of Paymor!" I was pulled out of my trance, looking at another guard yelling in her face. His eyes narrowed on her, glaring right through her as if she were something he truly hated. She cried more, sobbing as she was whisked away. Then, all eyes were on me. I quickly held the ring out along with the rest of the precious gems, shoving it out for all to see. The angry man snatched it out of my hand, glaring as he glanced at me.
"Did you stop her just now?" I stopped looking at the guard as a gentle yet loud voice asked. I stopped to spin around, looking at the man who was talking to me. I nodded, wide-eyed, seeing him up close finally. He was tall, much taller in front of me than not. He smelled of lilacs, a faint smell surrounding him. He smiled as he looked at me—a real smile that anyone with a heart could tell was genuine. "Yes…your highness." If I was being honest, it was more the spilled drink that stopped her than me. But I was more than willing to take the credit. Remy stood off to the side along with a crowd of people. I figured she left by now, but clearly the yelling stopped her before she left. Her eyes were just as wide as mine, but she kept a watch on me and the prince.
He turned back to the guard, opening his hand up as the man placed the ring on his palm. He huffed, looking at it from each angle. Finally, he turned back to look at me. My heart rate spiked seeing as he reached for my hand. His hands were soft, so soft I was afraid mine would somehow add callouses to his. He placed the ring back on my left hand. My heart was racing faster now. It was almost like he was proposing, sliding it on my finger.
"Thank you. You can keep this one though, seeing as you earned it." He hummed, smiling before walking off. I stared at the ring in my hands, in awe. A peculiar feeling popped up as I stared at the ring.
Was I grateful? Happy? Maybe even a little excited to receive such a ring? My head was spinning; a swirl of mixed emotions popped up. One thing was clear to me, though. Prince Zeke is definitely more interesting than I thought.