The Witch's Cursed Daughter

29. Proposition From The King

Voster had sincerely grown fond of Evianna since their first meeting. She was no longer as timid, yet he considered her to be similar to a pet in the palace; a young, innocent, un-expecting, and valuable pet that doesn't realise the dangers of the world beyond its owner. Upon arriving in the reception hall, the pair could see that the King's messenger had once again returned, looking somewhat haggard, with the rough smell of horses now staining his elaborate uniform.

Bowing at the pair's approach, the messenger waited patiently for Voster's cue before sharing his charge. "His Royal Majesty, Yaalon Del Waldemar, wishes to extend his most sincere condolences to Baroness Evianna Romilly Cabot. As an apology for the recent events he hopes that you will wholeheartedly accept his invitation," as he spoke, the high-pitched messenger extended a gold letter, complete with a large viridescent wax seal.

While Evianna squirmed under the title of Baroness, Voster furrowed his brow and sent light from his hand towards the messenger's outstretched package. Unlike the healing magic Evianna had witnessed many times before, the glow was cold and murky, almost like a mist that coated the letter like a second envelope. Hearing a crunch Evianna's attention was stolen from the marvel she felt watching this new power; looking up at Voster, she could see his jaw tensing. While the mist began to engulf the messenger boy, a polite voice hollered from the entrance way. As if he had expected the interruption, Voster lowered his hand, dispersing the magic. Evianna felt relief wash over her; though Voster did not scare her, he was difficult to understand. He was not much older than her, yet he exuded an aura of maturity, experience, and authority, matched only by Julian.

Wondering who had called, Evianna swung her head in the direction of the door; surprised she found the King's steward, Kallin Ro Beras, standing in the centre accompanied by Julian and Romile. Without realising, a smile danced across her face as she made eye contact with Julian; a comfort settled upon her shoulders which she could not explain.

Voster watched the two gaze at the other for a moment, irked by an unknown feeling grinding inside him. Evianna was unlike anything or anyone he had encountered before.

Before he could become lost in thought, Sir Beras spoke once again, "You are dismissed. Please return to His Royal Majesty and tell him that the Lady graciously accepts."

Evianna froze in confusion as everyone looked over at her. Then, apathetic to the context, she nodded in acceptance, signalling the messenger to depart. As the double doors closed behind him and the soft sound of sallow footsteps faded, Evianna could feel the tension release and trickle coldly down the inside of her dress. The three arrivals came over, greeting the others warmly as they did.

"How was... the audience?" Evianna asked faintly.

Julian slid a hand through his thick black hair, rustling it gently as he sighed, "The King extends his condolences for past events involving the princess, and all the expected follow-ups condemning of my inability to look after you."

Voster handed the letter to Evianna while Julian recounted the general topic of his summons. Staring at the large curling font on the front, Evianna felt embarrassment rise. She had always feared that her inability to read might be discovered, but she had wished it could have happened in a more private location. Taking a deep breath to build some courage before asking what it said, Evianna squeezed her eyes tight and opened her mouth, but before she could form the words, Voster interjected.

"What is it for, Your Highness?"

"The Myrde Festival," Julian replied disdainfully.

"Surely, His Majesty does not intend for her to become the Lady Myrde," Voster's raised voice was stern. Evianna glanced at him, a new sense of foreboding overwhelming her as she watched his eyes grow wide.

"He has already decided; my objections were not welcome." Evianna noticed that Julian looked angry and sad. The bright silver of his eyes she had grown accustomed to were now dark in the shadow of a memory.

Hearing the word 'festival,' Evianna was puzzled by their blatant disgust for the event, quizzically she asked, "What is the... Mayerd festival?"