Chapter 33:
Royal Court
I follow Trevus through the slim door back into the palace. I remain a few steps behind him, my eyes pinned to his broad shoulders. The gold threaded seams of his regal oban catch the light with each step he takes. I can’t believe I’m here – just feet away from Trevus again. I thought Nepolis was the last time I’d lay eyes on him. But our relationship isn’t the same. I’m posing as a stranger, and he’ll treat me as such. We’re together again, but still so far apart.
We continue down a short passage. The left side opens up to a lush courtyard. The garden is surrounded by four passages, each with one side open to the greenery, with only the occasional pillar to interrupt the view.
A part deep down wants to tell Trevus the truth, to tell him who I am, how sorry I am. But it’ll just cause Trevus more pain and likely result in my confinement and death.
Flowering vines creep up the stone columns that support the floors overhead. Every column is carved with images of heroes, armies and wild beasts. Stone masons must have spent months chiseling every detail. I’ve never seen wealth like this before.
“As you lack knowledge of the palace, tread with caution,” Trevus says. “Study the written palace etiquette that awaits in your chamber. Recite them by heart. The consequence of forgoing it is not simply dismissed.”
I’ve only had a handful of interactions with nobles before – when I was brought out on display at Antiock. My usual approach of hostility and disrespect won’t fare well here.
A bell clangs in the distance. Trevus stops. “The king summons his court to the throne hall. You shall be my company.”
“Okay,” I say.
He shakes his head. “Listen well, as I shall only explain once. Address highborn of the castle with Sir, Lord or Lady. Address members of the royal family with Majesty.”
There’s nothing he could’ve done to strongarm me to using such a ridiculous title as his prisoner, but holding such an abrasive attitude as his assistant would only draw suspicion.
“May we abstain from formal titles in private conversation?” I ask.
He raises an eyebrow at my request. It wouldn’t be the norm here.
“For the sake of natural conversational flow.” I avert my eyes for the last part – “Majesty.”
“That is acceptable.” He continues onwards, in a hurry to get going.
We head down the series of passageways and garden courtyards. Guards in black and servants in white occupy every intersection. Searching for the julite unnoticed is going to be difficult.
We reach a set of tall double doors, but a crowd of immaculately dressed lords and ladies block the way through.
Upon spotting the prince, they begin to nudge and whisper to one another. The nobles split down the middle, opening a path for us.
Trevus continues forward, and I follow right behind him. Every set of eyes is pinned on us. I double check the color of my hair – the illusion still holds. This much attention was something I wanted to avoid. I keep my gaze low.
Polished white stone forms the floor of the throne hall, and gold fills the seams between each piece. It’s hard to comprehend having such vast wealth that you use it for flooring.
A raised dais at the end of the room elevates an empty throne. Trevus climbs the dais, raising his tall frame a head higher. I stay at the base, not wanting to step on something reserved for royalty. The last thing I need is to embarrass myself in front of all these people and become their dinner gossip.
Trevus takes a seat on a smaller but still extravagant chair right of the throne. “Stand at my back,” he says.
I step onto the dais and shuffle behind his chair.
“Keep your gaze straight. Fold your left hand over your right. Do not speak unless addressed.”
That suits me just fine.
The nobles spread out around the stone columns on either side of the room. Each column is so wide that my arms wouldn’t reach halfway around them, and the ceiling they support is almost three times the height of a normal building.
Heavy emerald drapes hang from the pillars, and high windows illuminate the entire hall with dusk’s light.
The nobles’ outfits follow the same style as a soldier’s oban, with high collars and long sleeves for the men, and V-neck collars and short sleeves for the women. The striking difference is that their garments are a deep purple. Each sport unique patterns, breaking from the uniformed look of the soldiers.
The servants were wearing a white version of the same tight uniform. My loose black cardigan is nothing alike. I stand out. I wish I had my oban again.
The room falls into a sudden silence, and the steps from a pair of boots ring down the passage. King Tytius emerges from the hallway. His black and gray hair is cut short, and his once long beard is near shaven. He stands tall and strides forward with the confidence only a king could have. He shares Trevus’s sharp jaw and blue eyes. There’s no doubt that they’re father and son, even if by blood and nothing else. He’s dressed in a purple and black oban uniform, with gold thread highlighting every seam – a stunning piece of craftsmanship. On his head rests a small silver crown embedded with onyx jewels. This man doesn’t resemble the feeble elder we discovered in Nepolis. It’s hard to believe he’s the same person.
Trevus stands as the king approaches his throne. King Tytius was enraged at the very sight of me in Nepolis. To my relief, he hasn’t even offered a glance in my direction.
“Hear us, hear us, dwellers of Lystra!” the king announces. “I raise Versillia and exalt Nomier!”
“We hear the king!” The nobles answer in unison.
Tytius takes a seat on the throne, and Trevus does the same.
“The rumors of the battle of Nepolis must have reached your ears,” the king says. “A witch walked with new sorcery.”
This wasn’t the first conversation I was hoping to overhear.
“Such a rumor holds only half the truth,” the king continues, “for ‘twas more than a new sorcery. ‘Twas a new witch.”
The nobles gasp and mumble to one another.
“The Seventh witch has arisen, and she presents a threat greater than those before. Not due to her sorcery, though ‘tis more vicious than you envision, but due to the truth that the Seventh is among us!”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand straight. I force my body to stay in place. He isn’t looking at me. My illusion hasn’t broken. I must stay still.
The nobles stir amongst themselves, their conversations growing louder. Anxiety is strung through the room.
The pendant around my neck grows warm. I don’t dare risk touching it with the fifty pairs of eyes pointed in my direction.
The king waves his hand, and two soldiers in gray uniforms step into the open center. “Logonus and Quntillius fought in the front at Nepolis. They are two of the many who suffered at the wrath of the Seventh. They shall speak.”
Both soldiers turn to face the nobles. I recognize their faces – they stood beside my old tower guards, Oscus and Kerius, in the battle. They charged at me.
“I am Third Deca Logonus,” he begins. “I recall laying eyes upon the witch draped in blood. She infiltrated our backline. Before I could drive her away, she rendered my leg lame.”
A gadin is far from the color of blood, and he left out the part where he stormed forward with the intention of impaling my body on his halberd. Making his leg tire is not rendering it lame. He’s walking fine now without issue.
“I am Fifth Deca Quntillius,” the other soldier says. “The witch too set my own legs to turn against my will without a finger raised. If my comrades were not present to carry my form away, my survival would be put to question.”
He also tried to run me through, and I didn’t ‘infiltrate’ their backline. They surrounded the castle. I wanted nothing more to do with Versillians.
“Is her sorcery truly so great?” a gray-haired nobleman asks.
“The Seventh harbors a sorcery more sinister than seen at Nepolis,” King Tytius says. “A mere touch of her hand can stop even the strongest warrior’s heart, banishing their soul to the afterlife. ‘Tis a fate she already condemned upon one Versillian.”
The king’s words elicit another gasp from his court. He’s painting me as if I were a vicious monster. I was a scared child. I don’t seek blood.
“The witch ventures for revenge upon our kingdom, for she was imprisoned here during my period away. Had I sat upon the throne, she would not have been permitted to live long enough to gain such sorcery. Now she seeks to decimate Versillia!”
So if the Mephians hadn’t captured King Tytius all those years ago, I would have been executed. The feeling that I had been forgotten in the tower was accurate, but I had never imagined it was to my benefit.
“If this threat is indeed so potent, how shall we survive it?” another nobleman asks.
“I survived an encounter with the witch herself,” the king says. “The Seventh takes the form of a small brunette girl, but do not let her harmless appearance fool you, for now you have been warned of her craft.
“Prince Trevus of Cerillis, my son by blood, manipulated the witch to perform his bidding for a short time. I too shall employ complex strategy to bring the Seventh to her knees, ending the rot before it embeds itself.”
I saved King Tytius from Reger’s axe in Nepolis. If I was some vicious sorceress who desired the destruction of Versillia, I would have ended him right there, or left Reger to do it himself. The king knows I’m of little threat to Versillia, but his court is starved for truth. Brandishing my sorcery at Nepolis provided Tytius with the opportunity to fabricate a common enemy, one which he claims to be uniquely suited to defeat. It secures his rule after reclaiming his throne. Were he to capture me, I wouldn’t be returned to Antiock’s tower. My execution would cement him as a symbol of strength and victory in the mind of his court. My mission in the palace is far more dangerous than I’d even imagined.
“Your Majesty, may I share my experience of the Seventh?” Trevus speaks for the first time since the court convened, his voice loud for the whole room to hear.
There’s a hint of annoyance in the king’s eyes, but it’s quickly hidden. No one beyond the dais could have seen it.
“Speak, my son,” the king says. He can’t deny Trevus’s request after flaunting his great strategic ability, and Trevus is not content to sit quietly while the king takes advantage of Trevus’s reputation for outwitting the frightening Seventh.
“I traveled with the Seventh from Antiock to Nepolis, during which I spent many nights in her presence.” Trevus stands. “As you can see – I am unharmed.” He steps off the dais and approaches the noble court. “The Seventh is not aligned with our adversary, Mephia, nor does she identify as Mephian. While ‘tis true her sorcery is great, her moderation is greater. Not a soul touched by her sorcery was lost in battle. ‘Tis true she may return to Versillia, but ‘tis not with ambition to seize, harm or control, rather a consequence of lacking a sense of dwelling in any other land.”
“Surely you do not suggest that the witch is our ally?” the king chuckles. “I did not foresee you so foolish.”
Trevus turns back to face him. I’m under his gaze too. “Do not mistake my words. The Seventh sorceress is not our ally. ‘Tis true that one Versillian life has been lost in her pursuit.” He pauses. My eyes fall to my feet. I can’t bear to look at him when he talks about Mehlia.
“They shall be mourned,” Trevus continues, “but let us not repeat that mistake. Let us not pursue the Seventh further. ‘Tis best for all that she be forgotten, both in our words and our minds.”
So that’s how he feels – Trevus wants to forget he ever met me. It shouldn’t hurt. This is what anyone in his position would want. But it still does.
“My idealistic son favors a passive approach, but as the King of Versillia, ‘tis simply not a risk to allow. We shall not trust any witch living among us. She must be smoked out or put to rest!”
A few nobles cheer in support.
“The officers of Versillia have already been issued her image.” The king holds up a poster to the crowd, and the guards at the edge of the room begin handing out pages to the nobles. “If she is wise, she shall flee Versillia upon witnessing our search. Otherwise, she shall meet her end. The blade blessed by Nomier shall present the consequences for the remaining six to witness – witches and wizards should dwell deep in Mephia!”
The crowd erupts with shouts and cheers. They’re celebrating the idea of my death. Even the skeptical old men from before are nodding in agreement. The king has tightened his hold on the court.
The nobles hurry out the double doors in loud conversation with one another. The king exits through a smaller wooden door on the right side of the dais, and a guard closes it behind him.
Trevus indicates for me to follow. The pendant is now uncomfortably hot against my skin. I step off the dais, eager to be free of the blood thirsty crowd.
Author’s Note:
We’re now witnessing how Trevus’s is speaking about Jade after the incident. Do you think he still cares about Jade? What would happen if Jade revealed her identity to Trevus now?
Oh shi
among us 💀💀
@rileysing Definitely a no😂😂 and with this economy. However, taking something from my delusions is a win🤣🤣. I can’t wait tho😌
I think he still loves her, but of cause can’t say it openly, so he is trying to protect her in saying she is not out to harm them.
How do they even know she’s in versillia, or maybe is it just a scare tactic hmm
Creating an enemy is safer than flying off into battle once more
Tis time to forget the girl who rejected me in bed and who rejected me in the end XD
A nomad of sorts, just more powerful
To ruin the king’s scare tactic lmao
Girl wants to tailor away in peace XD
It’s royalty girly and. government figure, spreading fear of the enemy is what they do
well survival wouldn’t have been great no
And how does he know this?
No king will show themselves off as feeble and weak
You’d think there’d be official training for this lol
It’s literally your only job now lol
Shouldn’t have lied about being observant XD
lol
won’t fare well at all lol
If he didn’t care he wouldn’t have said anything… he wants to keep her safe which is why he tried to sway the court to just forget about her
Ah she’s right there…
I’m just imagining the mess if her spell failed, it would be rather dramatic and I think Trevus would auctually try and help her escape lol
Of course they do
Dude, you shouldn’t make enemies where there aren’t necessarily any…
Aw it’s sad cause he’s the first one in years who was kind to her and cared about her…
I think he’s mainly saying it cause he wants to keep her safe though and keep the army from pursuing her
So trevus just wants to be away from her, or he just wants to keep her safe?
Yeah, that’s definitely a hint as to who you are…
Risky dude, speaking opposite to the king
But I like that he’s standing up for her
Oh nice, looking forward to hearing what he has to say
You’ve kinda walked into your execution lmao
My son, my blood… bla bla bla
I think he might have a guess of who she is. he’s pretty smart
Oh so it wasn’t like they were keeping her there for some future reason hmm
Dude, assuming much, she doesn’t even want those powers lol
It was also a mistake not a intentional killing.
Draped in blood is a bit dramatic don’t you think… I’m pretty sure she never even harmed anyone. just made them sleep.
I wonder why it’s warming hmm
Like a cpu getting too hot in a computer maybe? Doing too much work to make sure everyone in the room only sees the illusion.
The king is hyping up the danger of the new ‘witch’ to make a target of her?
Was this also the king speaking?
Also if only they knew this new witch was in the very room with them.
It’s certainly a useful one lol
You can do a lot for someone’s looks through clothes and grooming
Trevus is being oddly accommodating and patient with her tbh
Though, I guess he’s always been kind.
But you have to lmao
IM BORED AGAIN DAMNIT I look forward to these new chapters every other day I need more PLEASE
Yeah she was too familiar with him just saying ‘okay’
He 1000% still loves her🥹
Trevus still has feelings for Jade. His comment doesn’t display any hate🤔. It displays sorrow and pain. I mean,he is a walking green flag…he was the only Versillian soldier to treat Jade with humanity. He isn’t a person who rushes into things and doesn’t act on his anger. He is the epitome of justice unlike his father who is a conniving fool😤. So, I think he will want to learn the whole truth. He will also forgive Jade. And they will marry and have 10 kids😂😂. Unless the writer says otherwise 😞. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but dear writer make sure they have 10 kids. And there should be some hot steamy ‘ahem’ . I think am getting ahead of myself. This is a plea from a humble reader🥹🥺🥺. You can do whatever you want with the plot but 10 kids,a must😂😂. Right, my dearest loveliest writer?
Trevus baby I love you I WANT YOU BACK😭😭😭
FUCK YOUUUUU
Girl, that’s such a relaxed response lmao
No it won’t… so shes going to gain some refinement?