The great hall was packed with more nobles than Dante had yet seen in it. So many people crammed onto the benches of the six long lower tables that their shoulders were pressed together. The walls were entirely covered by Wassalian and Lanhami guards, and nobles who hadn’t arrived early enough to get a seat shuffled about in the free spaces. It was a shitshow.
Luckily, the platformed area where the high royal table sat was free of standing guests, though each seat was filled with some of the more important nobles in addition to the royal families. All the royals wore white as on their first day, the Lanhami choosing to honor the occasion rather than the untimely death of Neros for the evening.
Dante stood against the wall behind Prim along with several other guards. The two handmaidens sat on either side of the princess, and Torra sat across from Kallia. The two princesses conversed joyously, Torra obviously still under the impression the announcement was to be for her engagement. He couldn’t help but wonder what the hell Kallia had planned. Egan took the spot on the end across from Prim, staying as quiet as he usually did. Dante much preferred it to Neros’s silver-tongued conversations he had to endure, though he felt guilty at the thought.
The feast ended, though drinking and boisterous conversations continued. Not a single person left, the rumor that something big was happening tonight having spread. When both sets of kings and queens rose, the noise of the roaring hall went silent as quickly and effectively as flame perished upon snuffing a candle.
The only one of the four who smiled was Queen Mallis, and even hers was only a small, polite tilt of her lips. The Lanhami’s straight faces were understandable given their recent loss. King Achrod had perhaps been availed of the news of Neros and Egan’s deceit and was as livid as Prim had said he’d be.
What a shit way to announce a betrothal. And it was only going to get worse considering the lie Kallia had told the foreign prince and princess.
“Thank you for joining us tonight,” Queen Mallis began, the candlelight bouncing off her golden locks and crown. “As we mourn the loss of Prince Neros, we must look to the future. The future of Lanham and Wassalia. In addition to offering our sympathies for the tragic loss of a son and a brother”—she nodded her head graciously at King Evarist and Queen Voliner then at Egan and Torra—“we would like to offer a daughter. A sister. A wife.”
Kallia stood, her chair making a small noise that seemed loud in the silent hall.
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Queen Mallis bowed her head at her daughter. “It is my honor to announce Princess Kallia will wed Prince Egan, uniting our two great lands in a show of solidarity to those who wish to see us collapse. We will not be intimidated. We will persevere.”
The hall once again erupted in noise--this time applause and celebration--but Dante focused on Torra. She was staring at Kallia, her lips parted. Kallia, however, seemed to still have her focus on her mother, though Dante couldn’t see her face from his position. Egan looked like he was going to be sick, and Prim sat slumped over the table, one arm stretched out past her plate and the other propped up on an elbow, her chin resting on her fist. Dante wanted to laugh at the pure discontent in the pose, revealing her feelings on the betrothal.
Kallia raised her hand and the crowd quieted, though the Queen of Wassalia pursed her lips as if she wasn’t too keen on Kallia making a speech. She must know her daughter well.
“Lanham and Wassalia have long been friendly, and I was honored to offer a more permanent hand in uniting our countries.” Applause rang out again, but slowly died down when the princess raised that commanding hand again. “I was honored. But I no longer feel that way. I will not be marrying Prince Egan.”
A couple gasps echoed, then a tense hush once again filled the room, the Lanhami monarchs straightening and looking at Kallia with daggers in their eyes. King Achrod’s eyes widened a bit, but he only looked at his daughter curiously. Torra looked at the princess with confusion on her face; Egan still looked like he was going to be sick. Prim kept that hand stretched across the table, but had lifted her head off her fist to better see the princess, her face just as shocked as everyone else's. Queen Mallis began taking quick, graceful strides toward her daughter from the other side of the long table as if she would tackle her to get her to stop talking.
But Kallia didn’t stop.
“I will not marry the man who ordered my assassination. I will not marry a murderer,” the princess said, her words loud and clear, reaching every ear in the packed room.
Queen Mallis stopped her hurried steps and turned to look at Prince Egan, along with every other person in the hall.
Dante readied his magic, but he wasn’t sure what to do with it. Egan hadn’t ordered the assassination. He hadn’t even ordered the kidnapping. They were just lies the princess was spinning. He stared at the prince, who sat still with that wide-eyed, pale, pained face.
Then movement caught his eye as Prim’s outstretched hand clapped over the prince’s resting on the table. In the blink of an eye, her palm was flat against the blue tablecloth and Egan was gone.
Before the room erupted with shouts and gasps and the sound of shuffling bodies, a single whimpered cry cleaved the quiet air.
It didn’t belong to the prince’s mother or father or sister.
It belonged to Prim.
She’d killed the fucking prince.