HERA

As it turns out hiding from a king in his own castle is surprisingly easy when he going out of his way to do the exact same thing.

I kept waiting for him to come barging in, eyes blazing in righteous fury, if not to accuse me but at the very least to take the sword he left behind.

But bell after bell rings out and he never comes.

I try to tell myself that this is a good thing.

But that would mean he did not even care enough to be bothered by what he had seen me do.

I am not certain this realization makes me feel any better.

Because some tiny part of me wants him to be as affected by me as I am by him and knowing the he most likely isn't, does nothing for my wounded, nearly non-existent ego

At the 12th bell he sends some servant to come fetch the sword for him instead.

I briefly consider hiding it.

Maybe that would show him, force him to come here himself.

But common sense prevails and I do not do this, deciding instead to resign myself to the tasks at hand.

Luckily enough, thanks to Henette and the seamstress and this binding ceremony business, I have more than enough to keep me busy.

I do not leave my room for almost the entire day.

Unfortunately the seamstress and her assistants are also present for all that time as well.

And though I would never tell her so, least she take it as an encouragement to visit me more often, poking and prodding aside, the plump dragonkin woman with her clean powdery smell and loud laugh is beginning to grow on me.

But dinner time soon comes around, much too quickly in my opinion and with it returns my pounding heart and dry mouth because now I have no choice but to get dressed and leave my room.

It takes a lot of convincing on Henette's part and a very, definitely not accidental poke from the seamstress' needle before I eventually agree to calm myself enough to dress up in the simple lilac, cotton gown with its square neckline and long transparent sleeves and finally step out of my room.

As it turns out, just like in Averia, the great hall is only used for special, royal occasions and unless otherwise required by the king, dinner every other night, takes place in the more modest dining hall.

We walk down a short passage that leads up to a single wooden door with black bars running horizontal to it.

Despite my best efforts my heart won't stop racing and I can feel a single bead of sweat, cold and wet rolling down my back.

I tell myself it is the balmy weather of a typical summer night but I know that is a lie.

What would I do when I finally saw him, when I had to sit across him and pretend to enjoy my meal.

Do I look away like I'm guilty or smile like nothing happened and ask him if he would be so kind as to pats me the butter?

I exhale deeply.

Get it together Hera.

I had done nothing wrong. At least I did not think so.

It was his fault for coming in without knocking anyway.

So do I lift my chin and glare at him over the pot roast instead?

My imagination runs wild creating all the possible things he could say and how I would respond to them but it does nothing to help me and as we stand in front of the door leading to the dining hall, I actually consider faking an illness. But before I can decide between fainting or clutching my head, my guards are pushing the door open.

I sigh.

Fine, best to get this over and done with.

The room is an average sized rectangular space with the same grey stone walls as the rest of the castle.

The floors themselves are also cut stones smoothened out from the years of constant, trampling feet.

There is a fire place, cackling merrily at one end and another door at the other.

There are no windows but the walls are once again decorated with shields emblazed with the Ryder's sigil and bejeweled swords crossing each other.

Gods...did dragonkin never take a break from reminding themselves about war?

A large circular and impressively beautiful candle chandelier burns over a long ornate table, covered with a cloth of deep purple and surrounded by six high back chairs.

And like all the others, the one at the end of the table, bigger and more artfully crafted, is very empty.

I let out a tiny sigh in an attempt at relief but his absence does nothing to console me.

For all I know he is on his way even this very minute.

The servants have already set the table and delicious smells from beneath covered trays waft up to tease my nose and remind me that dragon king or not I am actually quite hungry.

The room is empty save the chief steward who had tried to direct me at the royal introduction.

He bows as I enter but this time he does not tell me where to sit.

It does not take a genius to figure out why.

Just as well because I already have my sights set on a seat, the one as far away from the King's chair as possible.

I sit in silence for a while.

My stomach is grumbling and my mouth is watering for all the food laid out on the table but I am unsure how to proceed.

Do I just start eating alone or do I wait for his arrival...and six chairs, who else would be joining us?

The answer to my last question appears at the door barely moments later in a brilliant red dress, her maid trailing behind her.

The poor girl has a fresh cut running down the side of one cheek and I have no doubt it is only the latest addition in a string of many such, most likely undeserved wounds.

Minth takes one look at the empty room and the empty chair at the end of the table and smirks knowingly at me before bowing, if what she does, the slight incline of her head can even be described as bowing. I say nothing.

She could take her bows and stuff it the same place her heart and conscience are buried.

She does not wait for me to tell her to rise which is just as well because I have no interest in saying anything to her.

I have a lot on my mind at the moment and I am in no mood to for mental sparring or cutting words.

She however promptly proceeds to seat herself as close to the King's chair as she can get and I replace my eyes narrowing at her.

By all the gods Hera are you...jealous?

No.

I force myself to look away ignoring the twig of annoyance in my chest.

At this moment, she could sit in his lap if she damned well pleased as long as it meant I did not have to speak or look directly at him.

That is, if he even bothers to show up at all.

Without even knowing it I replace myself twisting at the straps of my dress.

I try to hide it, my nervousness, but I can tell the moment Minth notices the way my eyes keep darting, fearful and expectant towards the door.

Her green eyes gleam and she opens her mouth to say something no doubt spiked with venom and intended to bruise.

A shadow falls across the doorway before she can do so and I look up, heart in my throat.

Leo.

I am both relieved and discomfited.

If Leo is here then surely the king would not be far behind.

Right?

The chief Ryder bows.

I tell him to rise and he does so casting one sparing glance at Minth before sitting down directly opposite me.

He reaches for an empty bowl and begins to ladle soup into it. It smells absolutely divine.

I clear my throat and he glances up at me, questioning.

I resist the urge to squirm under the intensity of his gaze, my heart skips a beat and I can feel my cheeks beginning to turn red. Skies above, what if Midas told him?

I clear my throat again in an attempt to steady my voice. "Will...will the King be joining us?"

Minth scoffs all the way from her seat. "Why would he, when a human seats at the table with us? I barely have an appetite myself."

I tell myself not to listen to her.

That she is just saying those words to wound me but it by Hades it works and I bite my lips, suddenly unsure of myself.

Was he really that angry and disgusted with me that he could not even bare to eat in the same room as me?

Leo does not take his eyes off me for a second.

"Watch your tongue Minth. You speak to the King's wife."

She scoffs once more but says nothing more.

Leo's gaze holds mine for a second longer and for a moment I am almost certain he knows.

However, before I can work myself into a nervous frenzy, the chief Ryder shrugs calmly.

"I do not presume to know the king's mind your grace."

Then just as casually, he pushes the bowl of piping hot soup towards me, the corner of his mouth tilting ever so slightly upwards with the ghost of a smile.

"You should eat. I can hear your stomach growling in protest all the way from my seat."

I have never eaten faster in my entire life.

I should not have bothered because he never comes.

I rise a few moments later, my chair making a loud grating sound as I push away from the table.

"If you both will excuse me, I am tired and must retire to my chambers in preparation for tomorrow."

I avoid Leo's gaze because for some reason it always feels like he can see right through me.

"My greetings to the King."

And with that, I leave the room before either one of them can say a single word in response.

I can feel their eyes follow me out the room.

I barely sleep a wink that night.

But it is not this morning's events that occupy my mind and keeps me up all night, listening to the sound of night creatures outside my window calling eagerly to one another.

Neither is it the knowledge that come tomorrow evening, I would officially be wed to Midas before the Fire gods and almost all of the dragon realm's inhabitants.

No, what keeps me awake, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep and instead chewing on my lip till the sun's first rays light up the sky, is what the royal seamstress and Henette have told me will come immediately after the Binding ceremony. Before I could be made Midas' queen and the ceremony considered a success, Midas and I would have to prove our compatibility in the way those before us had.

So come tomorrow night, the dragon King will have to sleep with me.

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