Arianna did a slight curtsy then followed the steward. She kept her facial features relaxed, her lips curled up in a hint of a smile, but inside her heart thundered, her muscles twitched with the need to run.
If this happened a thousand years before, and Alrik asked her to dinner, her response would be entirely different. Happy, thrilled, honored. Alrik was incredibly handsome in his prime with a rugged appeal that she'd always preferred. While his brother Telal was also handsome, he had cleaner, more aristocratic features. Where Telal's blue hair had always been long near his shoulders, Alrik kept his more curly hair cut just below his chin. His hair used to be a beautiful auburn, red with brown tints; his skin shone with golden brilliance characteristic of the Demuzi royal line, and even his eyes were violet. A brilliant, vibrant purple hue that glittered when he looked at you.
Now so much had changed. Everything changed after the war. Violet eyes turned black, auburn hair and skin turned to coal. In good light, one could see the piercings he wore. The royalty had gasped in protest when they'd seen what he did to his lips, nose, eyebrows, and ears, which now held studs and hoops of silver or gold. Not one of them dared to say a word.
“This way,” the steward said.
Arianna blinked as she remembered she was on her way to see him. He wanted to dine with her. For what purpose? He knew she was spoken for. He couldn't possibly be interested in her.
The steward turned down a hall away from the banquet hall. Arianna crossed her arms as if that might somehow protect her. “Where are we dining at?”
“Your highness has requested your meal to be served in the royal dining room.”
She stifled her panic as her mind screamed in warning. The royal dining room? Shit, shit, shit. The royal dining room was the most secluded dining area in the castle, reserved for royalty or elite guests alone. Though, she had to say it really didn't surprise her that he'd use it for something like this. Alrik did what he wanted, when he wanted.
They came upon two stalwart wooden doors with golden handles. He grasped the handles then pushed the groaning doors open. A small breeze flowed over her, rustling her dress and hair. At the last second, she remembered to put her arms back down at her sides and unfist her hands. Look calm, be calm.
The steward stepped to the side and bowed his head down. “After you, my lady.”
Arianna walked into the lavish royal dining room, her eyes widening at the pure luxury of the room. She had never been in the room herself, but she'd heard about it. It was rarely used anymore, if at all. She was surprised to find no dust or webs in the shadowy corners.
The room shined to an immaculate sheen. The floor was covered in a large hand-woven rug that spanned the length of the room in maroon and black diamond shapes. The ceiling was white and engraved with gold silhouettes of men with swords, women with baskets or children in their arms. She could have snorted at the blaring inaccuracy. What it should show is men and women drinking out of gold cups, wearing expensive finery, and laughing at the poor.
Two massive chandeliers hung over the incredible long length of the table. Her surveying stopped as she saw who sat at the end of that table.
“Are you quite ready now?” Alrik asked in a low voice.
Arianna took a deep breath and went to her knees, her head bowed. “Your highness, I apologize for being tardy.” She couldn't quite keep the stutter of fear out of her voice.
“Sit down,” he demanded.
Arianna nodded and scooted back to sit on the floor. She kept her eyes squeezed shut, head low as possible, which made her neck protest in pain.
“I meant...in a chair.”
Flushing with embarrassment, she started for a chair. She had to slow her steps though because she was practically running. Two dining places were set. One at the far head of the table where he sat and one right next to him. She swallowed hard as she neared the seat. Protocol stated that he should rise and pull the seat out for her, but he didn't.
Arianna didn't meet his eyes as she went to the back of the chair, grabbed the sides of it, and pulled—it barely moved an inch. Turning her face away from him, she squeezed her eyes shut and clamped her lips tight as she pulled with all her might to move the massive chair.
Suddenly a big, surprisingly warm hand enveloped hers. Her eyes popped open to see his hand touching hers. With a quick pull, he scooted the chair out then sat back in his.
Arianna delicately took her seat, but the chair was pulled out so far that she had to sit at the very edge of the cushion, and even then her hands barely met the table in front of her. Without a word, she sat there; her eyes trained forward on her empty white plate with veining gold etchings on the trim, and folded her hands neatly in her lap.
From the corner of her eyes she watched him. He slouched back in his big throne-like chair, one elbow propped up on the arm with his square chin resting on his fist, eyes watching her with keen interest. His legs were kicked out before him, one knee bent more than the other. He wore black again, not a surprise there. A black jacket with black pants and black leather boots that came up to his knees. Unusual attire for royalty, but not for him.
The silence drew on until she couldn't handle it any longer. “Your highness, I apologize for being late.” She winced as her words held a biting edge to it. She could already see her fate flashing before her eyes—she'd end up like that prisoner she saw the other night, begging for her life after being wrongfully imprisoned.
“You already said that.” His deep voice traveled over the room in a low pitch like a wave. He moved and the candlelight from the chandelier glinted off the metal loop in his lip and eyebrow.
She nodded, clamping her lips shut.
“I...I was under the impression we'd be dining in the banquet hall,” she said quietly, her eyes now studying the design of the empty flute glass next to her plate.
“I wanted us to be alone.”
She swallowed over her raw throat, her hands twined together like she was trying to peel her skin off. “Why?” she whispered.
A soft bell chimed and then a much smaller door than the one she'd entered opened as half a dozen servants came in with trays of food. Arianna sat so straight her neck and back flared in warning as the servants moved around them in harmony, one servant pouring wine into the glasses, and another serving food onto the plates with perfect execution. They left far too quickly for Arianna. Her eyes followed their retreating backs but none of them turned, and even if one had, there was nothing they could do to help.
“Eat,” he ordered.
Arianna grimaced as she eyed her distance from the table. Knowing she couldn't move the chair on her own, she gingerly sat forward to pick up her white linen and lay it across her lap. Then she picked up a gold fork and took a bite of salad. The crunch of the lettuce in her mouth sounded as though it echoed in the quiet room. She swallowed but it felt like swallowing a rock. Her eyes darted over to him to see he hadn't touched his food at all.
Arianna placed her fork down and thought carefully how to word her question. She had to step carefully here or who knew where she'd end up...or what he'd do.
“Your highness—”
“Alrik. You will call me Alrik when we're together.”
Arianna glanced at the massive doors she'd entered with a beseeching glance. Getting her expression back under control, she made her lips pull into a polite smile as she looked back down at her plate.
“Alrik, may I ask why you wanted me to dine with you?”
She held her breath as she waited for him to answer. Eventually though she had to take a breath or she'd die right there sitting next to the king. She told herself not to look, but her curiosity got the better of her, and soon her eyes trailed over the fine table cloth, up his broad chest, and to his eyes.