Page 1 of Façade

CHAPTER1

The heated stares of the royal court crowding the meeting room monitored my every move with scrutiny, as if waiting for me to mess up. Their judgement pressed against my shoulders, an invisible burden of expectation that I’d long grown weary of bearing.

I sat up a little straighter in my seat, ensuring my shoulders were pulled back rather than remaining in the slouched position I found all too easy to succumb to. Even after I’d fixed my posture, they still stared. I wasn’t sure what they found so fascinating when the king was addressing them about matters far more important than me, their crown princess…yet their attention persisted.

I looked around at the dozen diplomats sitting around the table with father at the head on a raised dais. My gaze settled on the royal adviser, whose look was particularly pointed. Despite his grandfatherly nature, his constant critiques showed his frequent disapproval of my performance. His relentless scrutiny made me acutely aware I was failing, despite my best attempts to measure up.

I tried to ignore the court’s sharp observation in order to listen to Father, a difficult task with the restlessness that cloaked me from sitting so long. Beside me, Mother sat completely still, her perfect posture unmoving and her focus never wavering. She was an exemplary embodiment of a queen, someone I greatly admired despite her example being one I could aspire to but never quite reach.

Even midst her poise, she remained attuned to my struggles. Though her attention never wavered from Father’s address concerning Estoria’s trade relations, she rested a comforting hand on my knee, the motherly gesture hidden from others’ view by the table. Our gazes met briefly, long enough for me to give her a grateful smile. Though she often bestowed a reassuring one in return—one of many I’d come to treasure over the years—this time, worry tightened her features, along with an emotion different than her usual concern, an expression that seemed almost…sad.

At my questioning glance she looked away and, after a moment, withdrew her touch sooner than she normally would. I frowned but hastily forced a smile, considering the heated stares still fixed on me waiting for me to mess up despite my best efforts. I’d grown weary of their expectations; I already found it difficult to maintain the faith in myself that others lacked for their future queen, my parents being the sole exception.

I fought to keep my expression impassive so as not to betray my worry, even as my mind speculated the reason for Mother’s behavior, a mystery much more interesting than Father’s speech. I’d valiantly fought to pay attention long past my limit, making it all too easy for my mind to gratefully seize hold upon the first excuse to divert its exhausting concentration; no matter how much effort I expended in keeping my thoughts focused, they remained constantly at work, searching for a new path in which to meander.

Mother’s rare display of worry was the only excuse I needed to allow my thoughts to wander freely. Her control over her emotions rarely faltered, especially in public. I carefully combed through the events of the day for any clue as to what might have upset her. Surely it couldn’t beme—I’d done my best to maintain the proper behavior and hadn’t succumbed to my usual habit of speaking when I wasn’t supposed to or saying something that would have been best kept to myself.

Perhaps her mood concerned my habit to attend our private meals without shoes. My silk slippers pinched my toes, but even with my feet hidden from view beneath the table, I resisted the impulse to take my shoes off in the presence of the court. As the crown princess I had an image to uphold, one I would continue to maintain no matter how many times I faltered.

As crown princess of Estoria, I’d spent my entire life trained in the royal role expected of me, one I found both difficult and wearying, as if trapped in a constant performance. But though I carefully executed each step in this waltz of pretend, the façade often felt moments away from slipping from my fragile hold.

The sound of chairs scraping the marble floor abruptly brought my thoughts back to the present as the surrounding advisors and nobles rose from their seats; the meeting must have concluded when my attention had been diverted elsewhere.

My parents’ usual routine was to stay back to patiently discuss the particulars of the meeting with me to discern how much information I’d been able to retain. However, this time Mother stiffly rose, her movements agitated as she approached Father. He paused in straightening his documents to look up. They exchanged several tense whispers, their gazes frequently darting in my direction.

I stiffened. Were they talking about me?

They paused when they noticed me watching and forced smiles that didn’t meet their eyes. “How was the meeting, Evelyn?” Father asked in his usual soft-spoken manner. When I didn’t answer, he came over to give my earlobe a playful tug, a familiar gesture that broke the barrier holding my insecurities at bay.

“Everyone was watching me.”

“Stares are unfortunately a common aspect of the role to which we’ve been born.” Father wrapped a comforting arm around my shoulders, but rather than tuck me against his side as usual, his rigid posture kept some distance between us.

Puzzlement furrowed my brow as I peered up at him, cloaked in the same tension I’d noticed in Mother. My gaze darted between them, lingering on Mother, whose usual proper posture was tense and her movements nervous as she wrung her hands, rare glimpses of the emotions she was an expert in keeping carefully tucked away.

I frowned. “Is something wrong?”

Father hesitated. “It’s nothing.” He hastily averted his eyes, an indication he wasn’t being truthful.

My heart prickled. Mother and Father never kept secrets from me, even concerning matters I didn’t possess enough knowledge or experience to fully understand…which occurred far more often than it should. My patient tutors often assured me I wasn’t stupid, merely inattentive, a trait that made it difficult for me to sit still long enough to endure lessons. Even when I could get through them without fidgeting, my mind often wandered to other topics, no matter how interesting I found my studies.

This lack of discipline was my only explanation for why my magic hadn’t yet emerged; it should have manifested long before I’d come of age, a several-year delay that caused me constant anxiety. The only other possibility was one I couldn’t bear to consider—my family’s ability to wield the magic passed down through our royal line depended on our worthiness. Could its delay be because the power found me lacking?

I hastily tried to force my thoughts away fromthatsensitive topic, but my mind seized hold of it anyway. Out of habit, I took the opportunity to search within myself for the tingly power I was told simmered beneath my skin—the power all royals of Estoria possessed—but as usual, I felt nothing. After such a lengthy delay, I was beginning to fear I didn’t possess the magic I should have been born with. I couldn’t bear the thought that I might be the only royal in our kingdom’s vast history not to have inherited the ancient magic. However would I rule as queen if I didn’t have the power needed to guard the magic that filled our land?

Too late I noticed my mind had drifted. I forced my attention back to my parents, watching me with their usual patience, their soft expressions my only assurance they weren’t displeased with me. After a slight hesitation, Father cupped my chin, his gaze sad but tender despite all my perceived shortcomings.

“Chin up, Nymph. You’re doing a fine job.”

I managed a weak smile. “I’m trying.”

“That’s all we expect.” He released me, and Mother pressed a soft kiss against my hair, displays of their love that gave me the strength to endure even when I felt like giving up.

Father wove Mother’s arm through his before offering me a small smile lacking his usual warmth. “Would you mind helping with the reports?”

I wrinkled my nose before I could resist the childish impulse. How I loathed that tedious task, one that seemed to take me twice as long as it did for him. Not only did I find the language archaic, but the subject matters were often dry. However, it was an essential duty for a royal to perform, and no matter how long it took me, I took great pleasure in helping my parents, especially with how often they found themselves burdened with other matters.

Father playfully tapped my crinkled-up nose and I hastily smoothed it out, despite him already noticing my obvious distaste for the task. “Is that a yes…or a no?”

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