Page 2 of Unkindness of Crimson Ravens
“Please, Cordelia!” they whined in unison.
“Take them back to their rooms before they find trouble.” I whispered to one of the guards before returning my gaze back to my siblings. “I promise we will dance all day tomorrow if you go back to your rooms right this moment.”
“You swear?” Frederick narrowed his eyes on me.
“I swear to the Moon.” I said, ushering them towards the guard.
My words seemed to convince my brother and sister as they took the guard’s hands, dancing down the hall.
Soon enough they would have to learn manners and enter a very boring—proper—Royal life. Just like me and Sandra. A life full of expectations. A life that took your freedom away.
My eyes traveled back towards the ballroom as I waited for my announcement.
The red doors opened before I had a chance to prepare myself; although I was unsure I would ever be ready to face the nightmares that had been haunting me the last month.
The ballroom’s stone walls were fully decorated as well. Red flowers represented the blood of our enemies after a deadly battle: celebrating the day our kingdom became free of vampires. I wanted to laugh at the absurdity.
Candles rested on every single table, illuminating the faces of those gathered. All eyes were on me.
My chin rose high as I put on a mask of indifference. The mask I was required to wear when in public as the first in line to the throne. The mask I hated so much for stealing my identity. The mask that couldn't protect me from the horrors of gruesome people.
I had to play a role I did not choose, but on which my reputation and the reputation of our entire family depended.For the good of the familyas Mother would say.
I put my trembling hands behind my back and headed for the Royal table.
Mother sighed with relief, clearly worried I wouldn't come—as though I actually had a choice. I bowed, greeting the Queen just like etiquette required; my sister sat to her right. Sandraoffered me one of her happy smiles unaware of what the night had in store.
I waited for Mother’s dismissal before taking a seat beside my sister who wouldn’t stop grinning. The hairpin I gifted Sandra for her eighteenth birthday decorated her golden waves. Her hair and deep green eyes reminded me so much of Father.
“I heard the Barrens were coming,” she whispered to me. “Perhaps Timothy will ask you to dance.”
“Perhaps he will,” I replied with more disgust than I intended to show and I scolded myself for not playing my role well already. “Maybe someone will ask you for a dance.” I pinched her side.
“Maybe.” She grinned, scanning the ballroom.
Using Sandra’s distraction, I glanced around before my hands stretched out towards the meat. Covering it with a napkin, I hid it in my sleeve.
“There!” Sandra whispered to me, making me jump in my seat; though she didn’t seem to notice my reaction nor did she notice the food I’d stolen. Sandra carefully pointed at a man in red attire. “Hm... He might be a noble from the North, came here to find a bride!” she fantasized. “Me, perhaps.”
“Sandra,” I laughed, “he is too old and not nearly as handsome.” Sometimes it seemed Sandra just wanted to leave no matter the groom. I couldn’t say I judged her for it, but Moon forbid she’d end up like me.
How could I ensure her future husband would treat her right? How could I trust another soul to keep my Sandra safe?
“What about that one?” Sandra crooked her head, peeking from behind me. I attempted to turn in that direction, but she quickly stopped me. “Cordelia!” Sandra hissed at me. “You will give us away!” Her adorable reaction made me crack a smile—a genuine one—at her terrified face.
“I will be careful.” I promised my sister, turning towards the two men engaged in—what seemed to be—a serious conversation.
“The one on the left,” Sandra whispered into my ear.
The man shechosewas handsome indeed, yet my gaze traveled past him.
In the corner of the ballroom stood a man in a black and gold vest.Odd, I thought to myself. Today’s dress code was red only. At the end of the day we were celebrating the end of theCrimson War.Him dressing like this was at the very least disrespectful.
I studied the man, trying to figure out who he was. Of course I couldn’t remember every single member of the court, but him I had never seen—that I knew for a fact.
The stranger held wine in one hand and a pipe in the other. He didn’t seem to care about his appearance whatsoever. Arrogant, indeed.
The man looked young, in his twenties perhaps. He had dark brown hair that fell on his face in a perfect mess. His curls barely touched his shoulders. His sharp features contrasted with his smooth bronze skin.
