Fractured Crown (Book 1: Terra)

Chapter 12

Iris was surprised to see the man before her next to the dining table, his posture erect, shoulders broad and palms open in a warm, welcoming gesture. His white teeth gleamed even against his pale complexion. Iris noted a green, military-style hat covering his shortly cropped hair. All in all, he was a lot more youthful than she had envisioned the Commanding Officer to be. He couldn't have been more than three years older than her, give or take. In all honesty, she had imagined the man in charge to be a white, elderly man, if relating it back to the history of her own country back on Earth. Weren't they usually the ones in charge of death and destruction? All those wars?

"Princess Volterra," he said in quiet awe, his gaze flitting over her momentarily before settling on her face. "It's an honour."

"It's Iris," she replied casually, her gaze sweeping across the room, stunned. The dinner hall wasn't just big - it was massive. Far, far larger than what she could have ever imagined, though Iris supposed that wasn't very much considering her previous living conditions. A long table of fine wood stretched across the room, about two dozen or so chairs placed around it. Miniature chandeliers hung from above the low ceiling, and if Iris were to stand on the table, her fingers would be able to touch the intricate lightbulbs that were shaped like the same flowers she had seen at the front entrance. Flowers hung from the creamy-beige walls, filling the place with all colours of the rainbow. The floor beneath her, she noted, was not marble this time, but also wooden – floorboards that had been polished until smooth and shiny. But what drew to her attention most, was the feast that lay before her. Wines of both red and white, foods that she could only have dreamed of getting her hands on. Beef – real beef, not half-rotten crap she was sometimes forced to eat out of sheer desperation. Steaming vegetables – potatoes that were white and purple and orange. Rice, soup, salad... fruit! And, it was ripe too!

Iris had to contain the drool from spilling out the corner of her mouth. This was probably enough to feed the Street Rats for weeks. Where were they getting all this food? Did they truly grow it all here? Leagues below ground? She was surprised she wasn't suffocating from the lack of oxygen yet.

The Commanding Officer cleared his throat and motioned to the chair he had scraped back for her. She slowly walked towards it, giving him a hesitant smile before sitting down. He took his place near her at the head of the table. At that moment, two servants instantly came bustling in, the men making sure not to make eye contact with either one of them as one began pouring red wine into a glass for the C.O. The other set down two entrée plates – toasted bread with cherry tomatoes and smashed avocado topped with cubed feta cheese.

"Red or white?"

Iris blinked, distracted by the food in front of her, restraining herself from grabbing the entire plate and licking it clean like a starved hound.

"Personally," the C.O said, unaware of the distractions she faced, "I prefer red, always. It's got a sweeter, more sophisticated touch to it, in my opinion."

"Sure." Iris didn't mind what colour the wine was. It could have been orange, for all she cared. The waiter poured her a glass of red wine before retreating to the backroom with his companion.

Her focus was entirely on the plate in front of her, and, unsure if she was supposed to wait or not, she picked up one of the tiny pieces of toasted bread and bit into it. She kept her mouth closed, moaning inwardly. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had an avocado that wasn't half-rotten.

"Hungry, your highness?" a faint smile played on his lips, a poor attempt at hiding his surprise as she finished it off in two bites and started on the next piece. She wasn't sure how a princess behaved, but she was certain that she wasn't depicting that right now.