Felitïa dreaded Belone’s palace—partly because palaces in general made her uncomfortable, but mostly because the last time she was here, Feodor Belone had ripped her away from what she was doing, had rounded up her and all her friends, and sent them to Arnor City back to her family. Felitïa knew he had just been following her father’s command, but he hadn’t displayed any reticence in obeying it either.

She had also learnt that Belone and her father had always known she was in Quorge. Her success at hiding there had only been at her father’s providence. Belone could have—and probably would have if not for her father’s command—snatched her away from her world any time he wanted.

So standing here now was the last thing she wanted. But it had to be done. At least Nin-Akna was with her. She didn’t want to be alone right now.

She had only been in Belone’s palace that one time nearly a year ago. She had thought it ostentatious at the time—it had been so long since she’d spent any time amongst nobility—but truth be told, compared to the Royal Palace, it was reserved. The throne room, in particular, was so much smaller. Belone’s bejewelled throne had far fewer jewels than the Bear Throne. Even the carpet that led from the entry doors to the dais the throne sat on was simpler and plainer despite its finery.

Belone looked no different than last time, except there was a hint of red under his nose, barely obscured by his beard. The red was also at the corners of his eyes, and he sniffled as he watched Felitïa’s entrance. Like before, he was dressed in a flowing silk robe.

Belone rose from his seat and came towards her. He stopped several feet away and gave a small bow. “Your Highness, a pleasure to see you again. Please forgive me for not coming any closer, but I am ill. A mild illness, but not something I wish to inflict on you.”

Felitïa bowed her head. “I understand, your Lordship. Thank you for welcoming me.” She was glad she didn’t have to hug and kiss him. She wasn’t in the mood for ceremony right now.

He nodded and returned to his throne, motioning to some of the people around it.

There were a lot more people here than last time. Most of them were courtiers, but a few of them were other nobles. Only one of them she recognised, and he was the first to approach.

Danel Belone, Lord Belone’s son, bowed before her. “Your Highness, a pleasure to see you again.” There was a hint of a sneer on his face, and he did not attempt to hug and kiss her. Contempt flowed from him.

“A pleasure to see you too, my Lord,” Felitïa said.

Danel glanced at Nin-Akna, and his lips twitched. He stepped away.

A young woman, maybe only a couple years younger than Felitïa, approached. She curtsied, then embraced Felitïa. She was somewhat shorter, so Felitïa had to bend over a little in order to exchange kisses to the cheek.

“My daughter, Anita,” Lord Belone said.

Anita stepped back and curtsied again. “A pleasure, your Highness. I’m sorry I was not here to meet you last time.” There was not a lot of resemblance between her and her father or brother. Her long hair was lighter and her face rounder. She moved to the side and curtsied to Nin-Akna—the first acknowledgement of Nin-Akna’s presence anyone had given—and then embraced the young warrior.

Surprise erupted from Nin-Akna, who hesitantly placed her hands on Anita’s shoulders. There was a small collision of faces as Nin-Akna did not know to turn her face to accept kisses to her cheeks.

Anita stepped back and curtsied again. “My apologies for my clumsiness.”

Nin-Akna’s surprise turned to embarrassment and she looked down and to the side.

“This is my friend, Nin-Akna,” Felitïa said. Like Meleng last time, Nin-Akna had not been announced when they’d entered even though Felitïa had given the herald her name. “Thank you for acknowledging her, my Lady. It seems few others are willing to.”

Anita moved beside her brother, who eyed her, his lip still twitching.

Lord Belone shifted positions in his seat. “Apologies, your Highness. It was not my intention to cause offence. However, I should point out, we are doing more than we need to by even acknowledging you. As I understand it, you have been banished.”

Just like last time: an insistence that no offence was meant while simultaneously making offensive statements. “From Arnor City and the Royal Palace, yes, your Lordship. I have not been expunged from my family. Not technically.”

“True, but you must acknowledge that welcoming you brings its own...statement.” He sniffled again and wiped his nose with a handkerchief one of the courtiers by his throne held out to him.

“Perhaps,” Felitïa said. Gods, she hated politicking.

“My wife, Siba,” Belone said as another woman approached Felitïa.

It was clear which parent Anita took after. Siba was a little taller than her daughter, but had the same rounded face—just with a few wrinkles. Her hair, although starting to grey, was the same colour as Anita’s as well. She curtsied, embraced Felitïa, and exchanged kisses. She curtsied to Nin-Akna, but did not attempt to hug or kiss her.

“My wife was visiting her father last time you were here,” Lord Belone said. “As was Anita.”

“I understand you visited him recently,” Siba said.

Amar Padara, Felitïa realised. “Yes, it was a very pleasant visit. He was a very generous and courteous host.”

“He always is.” Siba moved aside and joined her son and daughter.

Belone motioned to the Isyar who was standing at the front of the room off to the side. “You remember Plavistalorik, of course?”

“Yes, of course,” Felitïa said.

Plavistalorik raised her head just enough to give a cursory nod to Felitïa and Nin-Akna before going back to staring at the floor.

Several other nobles came forward after that. Belone introduced them one by one. Not one acknowledged Nin-Akna, and a resigned annoyance began to emanate from the young Ninifin.

“As you can see,” Belone said, “I’m playing host to a much larger household than I was last time. Now introductions are out of the way, may I ask to what we owe the pleasure of your visit this time, your Highness?”

“I’m in the city for personal business,” Felitïa said. “However, I didn’t want to cause offence by not announcing myself.”

“I am happy you did,” Belone said. “I take it this means we can put the unpleasantness of our last encounter behind us?”

“I hope so, your Lordship.”

“We will, of course, plan a feast in honour of your visit.”

“Thank you, your Lordship, but that’s not—”

“This business of yours,” Danel said. “Does it have anything to do with your ridiculous claims about the boy who was with you last time?”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“As I said, my business is personal.”

“We have reports that a boy is with you again this time, yet you have not brought him here.”

“He is with a friend.”

“And do you maintain your story from last time?”

Lord Belone leaned forward. “Danel, enough! Start this again, and I will have you removed again!”

“What of the fact, Father, that she started the war with the Volgs? Why should we provide any hospitality to someone whose own mother has rejected her?”

“The war?” Lord Belone laughed and fell into a fit of coughing. After a moment, he regained his composure, wiping his nose on his handkerchief again. “Regardless of what might be in the official proclamation regarding her Highness, I find it extremely difficult to believe she alone could be responsible for an entire war. The Volgs are creatures of evil, a fact well known, and yet now we act surprised they want to go to war against us? I have little doubt the Volgs wanted war regardless, and whatever actions her Highness might or might not have performed had little impact on that decision, other than to give them an excuse. Not to mention, the whole idea of the Volgs trying to make war against us is a joke. Arnor is too big for them to attack effectively. No, they just want to frighten us and it’s working. I will hear no more of the war or Princess Felitïa’s involvement in it until such time as there actually is a war. Do I make myself understood?”

Danel bowed. “As you wish, Father.” He stood up tall and attempted to look unperturbed by the situation, but anger and annoyance flowed from him.

Belone turned his attention back to Felitïa. “Your Highness, your business is, of course, your own and you may keep whatever secrets about it you wish. I ask only to know if it will impact me or my household in any way, and if there is anything you need of me.”

“It should have no impact on you or your home, your Lordship. I will be working with my associates at the Hall of Knowledge.”

“Charlatans,” Danel grumbled.

“Danel!” Although his voice was rough from his illness, Belone’s voice was loud enough to reverberate around the room and made almost everyone jump. As best Felitïa could tell, only Plavistalorik and Nin-Akna seemed unaffected by it.

Danel clenched his fists and stared at the floor.

“I have warned you,” Belone said.

“Apologies, Father.”

“I grow tired of your empty apologies, Danel. Do not think I will tolerate them much longer. Now begone from my sight.”

Danel clenched his fists even tighter, glared at Felitïa, then stormed from the room. His mother shook her head slowly, while his sister smirked and rolled her eyes.

Lord Belone blew his nose with the handkerchief and held it out to the courtier, who brought a small basket forward for him to drop it into. “Please accept my apologies for my son’s behaviour. I promise you I will keep him under control for the duration of your stay here.”

Felitïa held back a groan. She had been hoping her banishment would mean Belone would not extend an invitation to stay at the palace. “I don’t wish to impose on you, your Lordship. My friend and I have accommodations already.”

“Yes, at an inn, I’m informed. I could not, in good conscience, allow royalty to stay in such lower class accommodations. Besides, your true identity is no longer a secret. It may not be widely known, but it will spread in time. The locals may not look on you kindly. I insist you stay here. You and your friend, of course. The boy, too.”

“The boy needs to stay where he is for reasons of my business. Nin-Akna and I will be happy to take up your kind offer, your Lordship. We will need to be out frequently during the days, however.” This was the second-best option, and she and Nin-Akna had agreed to it before coming here. She only hoped Lord Belone would agree.

He pondered a moment. “Very well. If you’re certain the boy is well looked after.”

“He is, your Lordship.”

“Good. We will plan a feast for tomorrow.” He turned to one of the courtiers by the throne. “See to it, and have rooms prepared for her Highness and her guest.”

The courtier bowed and hurried from the room.

“You will, I hope, join me and my family for dinner this evening? I can see to it that Danel is not present, if you prefer.”

“We would be delighted,” Felitïa said. “And provided he behaves himself, I have no objection to your son’s presence.” The best way to stay on Belone’s good side was to be conciliatory and forgiving.

Belone sneezed and reached for the handkerchief again. “I shall see to it that he behaves. Until then, your Highness, I will retire. I’m told I need lots of rest if I’m to recover from this illness.”

“By all means, your Lordship. Until tonight.”

He nodded and stood up. “My people will show you to your rooms as soon as they are ready. Until tonight.”

Followed by a train of courtiers, Lord Belone left the room.

“I’m not sure which is worse,” Nin-Akna muttered. “A Ninifin court or a Folith one. Both spend most of their time saying a lot of words, but meaning very little.”

Felitïa smirked. “There are some things common to all peoples, I think.”

Some of the nobles began making their way over, asking her about her journey here, and whether she knew her sister had been here only a few weeks ago. What had possessed her to run away from home all those years ago? What was it like to encounter Volgs in person? Was she really responsible for the war, and did she think there really would be a war, and if so, how would it be waged?

After what must have been an hour or more, most of the nobles and courtiers had gone. Anita Belone remained, and she came over to Felitïa and Nin-Akna. “I’ve been informed your rooms will be ready soon.”

“Thank you, my Lady,” Felitïa said. “And thank you again for acknowledging Nin-Akna earlier.”

Anita smiled and looked at Nin-Akna. “Of course. My pleasure.”

Nin-Akna shuffled her feet, then smiled back. Discomfort and uncertainty continued to emanate from her. “Yes, thank you.”

“I wanted to provide a contrast to my brother’s rudeness in the hope others would follow my example,” Anita said. “Unfortunately, everyone followed his.”

“At least you tried,” Felitïa said. “We’re very grateful.”

A sharp pang of annoyance came from Nin-Akna and Felitïa held back a grimace. What had she done?

“Yes, grateful,” Nin-Akna said.

She’d spoken for her again, Felitïa realised. She needed to stop doing that. She had only been trying to help, but she accepted that wasn’t an excuse.

“If there’s anything you need during your time here, please ask.” Anita curtsied. “I look forward to seeing you both at dinner.” She gave Nin-Akna another smile, turned around, and left the room.

The throne room was almost empty now apart from a couple guards, and a few servants.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” Felitïa said.

Nin-Akna peered at Felitïa. “Done what?” Confusion emanated from her.

Nin-Akna had felt annoyance, hadn’t she? Felitïa was sure she had detected annoyance.

“I shouldn’t have spoken for you. About...about being grateful. I thought it annoyed you.”

Nin-Akna shrugged. “Oh that. It did annoy me. For a moment. But I am actually grateful, so no harm done, I guess.”

A servant approached them and bowed. “Your Highness, your rooms are ready. Please follow.”