The King Trials.

~Blue Vinum~

The grand feast is held in the banquet hall with tables and tables of choice food: fire-roasted pork, venison, seasoned chicken on a collection of silver-gilt plates with baskets of bread rolls. Not to mention, finely made wine. I breeze through the assembly of senators and lawmakers alike. Most of them wear tunics, intricately woven fabrics with vivid embroideries.

My own garb is a trailing, golden sequins dress with thin straps and a plunging open back, with layers of slim gold chains that loop down until my hip. I am sure by now; I have eaten an entire boar by myself, slabs of spice-infused meats. I stopped counting after the second round. I have had to make up on all the protein I lost whilst I was at Terra. Since they only eat vegetables and fruits, a plant-based diet.

Despite all I have already eaten. I can wolf down a lot more.

Honestly, I have grown weary of feasts and banquets. This one in particular is tiresome, an alternate replay of all the ones I have attended. The aesthetic and erection of the hall is irrefutably exquisite, with glass-shrouded gemstones. The walls ornamented with starlight lamps hanging on the walls, brilliant sapphires glowing.

Stock-still palace guards rim the interior as well as our Avangard soldiers, but of course, all but Primus Kelan is present. Even the Xercra has made himself scarce, I have not seen him since our advent.

Something must have come up.

Everyone else mills about in the banquet hall. The other Herems are ingratiating themselves with the Sorcian aristocrats. The senators and other dignitaries all have elaborate tattoos, boasting prestige and rank. I, however, lack the determination to feign jubilee or be a sop to their vanity. And my resentment towards the King Trials itself lengthens with every day. I still do not understand these tests, these locations.

Why did High King Urus take such an unorthodox approach to the Shalem protocols? The first King Trials to be initiated in our history, and it will be remembered as a spiral of bafflement.

How does any of this prove the worthiness of one to rule?

On instinct, my mind directs me out of the banquet hall. Through the huge Ionic archway to the free-flowing, connected balcony that showcases an unobstructed view of the Capital. I step onto the blue pearlescent floor that glistens under the moonlight. The balcony is unrailed with only pillars that are my height to punctuate the brink with fire bowls that crown their heads, all lit with a flaring blaze in each. Quite a captivating scene.

The night is perfect for stargazing; the air is cool with not a single cloud in the night sky.

Despite the magnificence before me, my heart is torn, despair grips one half, and aggravation has the other. I yearn for my family; I miss my Regnum; I miss Seliah's jovial attitude, my father's wise lectures. And I even miss my mother's moaning and meddling.

And how I mourn Primus Kelan's absence, which I cannot help but feel that it was my own doing. Our last encounter haunts me still. It plagues me the same as the Black Death has been a blight to all who have suffered on its account.

Why does it haunt me? Why does he haunt me?

"You look so pensive."

I refrain from flinching.

Vince appears. I look at him sideways. Annoyingly handsome in a black, long-sleeved tunic, beautiful silk brocade with an off-shoulder crimson cape. He holds a chalice in each hand, both reflecting a radiant blue on the shiny inside.

"I hope one of them is for me," I say jokingly. But I am genuinely serious. I can use a drink or three.

He offers a chalice to me. "You look like you need it more than I."