Calluna

Chapter Eight

The Flower

Halfway through training today, right after I was wounded, we all received a message from His Excellency Prince Atreus requesting each of our presence at a private dinner tonight. I'm not allowed to refuse, the message instructed, and I can just imagine the smile on His Evilness's face when he wrote that part. It's a rude awakening for me knowing that he still remembers I'm here. I was holding onto false hope that he had forgotten in the past few weeks.

            I walk into a small dining room I've never been into before, wearing a deep purple dress that scoops much too low for my taste. The dining room is a grand place, to say the least. The huge mahogany table takes up half the room, lit by only a few candles, giving the space a romantic, yet eerily dark look. The tablecloth is so white and unmarked I'm afraid to touch it or even sit in the perfectly spaced, oak chairs that are each like their own throne.

I wish I could turn right back around but Theron—the object manipulator—pushes me forward into the room. He looks like he's on his third or fourth glass of wine. The others from my squad are in the room, some seated, some standing and speaking. I'm relieved not to see the white-eyed prince. I know my relief will not last long.

            "Where's Instructor?" I whisper into Theron's ear.

            He nods as if I asked a yes or no question, his movement groggily. "She has training with another squad tonight. I don't think she was even invited."

            The doors open grandly and a figure in white walks in, his gait confident and sure. I wish I could trade places with Instructor at this moment. Everyone bows, so I have no choice but to follow. I keep my head down longer than the others because I don't want to see his face. I don't want him to see mine.

            His shoes appear in my vision and his hand lifts my chin. I suck in sharply and I try to look past him, to look at his forehead or his cheek or his hair, but not his eyes. Anything but those horrifying eyes. He twists my head, inspecting my face, inspecting my eyes, my lips, my cheek that's healed without a scar. I hope he doesn't see anything out of the ordinary. I just want this night to be over.

            Atreus finally sighs with an evil grin across his lips. "I've been waiting to see you, Calluna. I could hardly go so long without you." He smiles and I wish I would never see that smile again. "Have you been wanting to see me too?"

My cheeks heat. Everyone's gone quiet, watching. Even with my training, I'm still not strong enough to say no. "Yes," I grind out tightly. I wish I could reach up and slap his hand away from my chin. I don't. Everyone knows he could kill me. He'd enjoy it.

He finally releases me and acknowledges the others. He welcomes us and sits at the head of the table. Before I can get far, Atreus 'invites' me to sit beside him, and Briar to the other side. Theron sits to my right, a small mercy, and the rest shuffle in.

            The meal is served and I'm more than grateful when the golden triplets fill the room with conversation. Atreus laughs so loud, my chair shakes, and he refills his chalice so many times, I wonder if any of the alcohol affects him or if he is always drunkenly irritating.

            There were times I would go hungry at night after a bad harvest, hearing the rumble in my belly as I fell asleep. Now, these colored eyes relish in enough food to feed an entire village for weeks in one meal. Why leave the brown-eyed people to fend for themselves when they make the food? They are the ones providing for Vitio and the palace, why treat the villagers so poorly? I'll ask someone that question soon, I promise myself. Nico, Desta, and Theron have always been gracious when answering my questions. They find my curiosity amusing.