Flame in the Palace by Seluna Drake

Author:Seluna Drake [Seluna Drake]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Selenite Pres
Published: 2022-05-08T00:00:00+00:00

The great hall of Dawnmourne Keep stretches to an immense length, lined with rows of tables and benches. A single long table stands perpendicular to the rest at the head of the hall. This table features King Uriel, Queen Eloria, Prince Leor, and Duchess Cressida. As Myria enters the room, Nocturnus pages lead guests to their assigned seats for the evening. The higher lords and ladies of the court are seated closest to the head table.

Across the room, Eulalia sits close to the royal family, surrounded by Theodora, Brigid, Sigurd, and Eulalia’s cousin Alanis. A page leads the Bramble family directly on the other side, equally close to the head table.

Myria prepares to sit down when the servant stops her. “I am sorry, Lady Hawthorne. These seats are only for Duke and Dowager Duchess Bramble. If you follow me, I will take you to your seat.”

She nods, feeling a faint wave of embarrassment ring in her ears. Olympe turns a stern gaze to the page. “This is most unusual. Lady Myria is a part of the Bramble family, and should sit with us.”

“My apologies, Lady Bramble,” the page says, earnestly ducking his face. “I regret to inform you that this seat is already assigned to Lord Godric.”

Indignation flashes through her aunt’s face, so Myria intervenes, arming herself with Olympe’s previous words. “It’s fine, Olympe. I am sure Duchess Cressida has her reasons for the seating arrangement. I will make the most of what I’m given tonight.” She turns to the page with a gracious, courtly smile in place. “Please, take me to my seat.”

Her seat, as the whims of Duchess Cressida would have it, is the farthest one from the head table, practically invisible to the royal family. Myria would laugh if it wasn’t so clearly insulting. However, sitting next to her is none other than Lady Sabine, craning her neck to see the rest of the court’s prominent members.

“Lady Myria,” Sabine greets with a thin smile that hardly conceals her frustration. “It seems Duchess Cressida perceives us as similar status.” A lilting note in her voice threatens to crack, and Myria’s shoulders deflate with pity.

“I am sorry that she feels the need to insult you.”

Sabine waves a dark hand, turning her attention to an empty plate in front of her. “I am used to such offenses. Many did not receive my family’s ascension to nobility with much hospitality.”

“That doesn’t make it any easier,” Myria points out. “You definitely shouldn’t be back here with me. I’m just a peasant girl in a fancy dress. You’ve at least learned etiquette and dancing like a real noble.” The self-deprecation comes easy, and it may cheer up Sabine.

Sabine chuckles at the remark. “No matter how this evening turns out for us, we should not allow it to discourage our efforts. Queen Eloria says that she was the unlikely candidate for King Uriel’s hand in marriage. Perhaps the same can happen to us.”

Myria does not miss the way Sabine’s lips curve over the last word, a reluctance to consider herself as an equal to Myria.

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