She Sings at Dawn

XV. Forbidden Knowledge (Part One)

New faces sit at the breakfast table in the West Wing the next morning. It's two boys with matching red hair and pale skin, though one is a foot smaller with more freckles, while the other is ganglier. I dip into a curtsy before sitting beside Clemaina.

"Good morning," I say. I hope my face looks neutral and not as confused as I feel.

Both boys grin, creating two sets of dimples on their cheeks. The older boy stands from his place across from me and strides around the table.

"Good morning, Princess Aylo. I am Prince Leopold the Third, heir to the Kingdom of Freinsoliven. I'm so pleased to finally make your acquaintance."

He bows, and his hand closes around mine, bringing it to his lips. My eyes shift to Clemaina. Her mouth is set in a pleasant smile, but I can't miss the glitter of amusement in her brown irises. I focus again on the boy's rounded face. His features are small, leaving empty space like a sparse canvas.

"It is nice to make your acquaintance as well," I recite. "We're honored by your presence in the palace."

"I'm honored you're hosting us, especially during this trying time. I'm so deeply sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," I say quickly, moving on before any emotion leaks out.

Prince Leopold finally releases my hand and returns to the right side of Clemaina as Sigvard enters. My brother blinks at the newcomer who's taken his spot, then slides into the chair beside me.

"And I," the younger boy begins, drawing out the last syllable, "am Prince Lewis, Second in line to the throne of Freinsoliven." He stands from his seat and gives a quick bow before sitting down again.

"It's nice to meet you," I say again. Sigvard nods. I think he's in shock. I can't remember a time when random strangers joined us for breakfast. Usually, we meet people at least once. We also have some forewarning about the guests.

"Shall our breakfast commence?" Clemaina claps her hands.

Servants bring our plates. They're almost too pretty to eat—miniature waffles stacked with sugar-coated cherries on top; layered fruit in flower-shaped glass bowls topped with a twirled lemon peel; a poached egg over smoked salmon, bread, and radishes, garnished with microgreens. The chefs didn't hold back, except in their portion sizes for me and Clemaina.

We eat in comforting silence, though I can't shake the feeling of being watched by the guest across from me. I pretty much look anywhere but straight ahead—at my plate, Sigvard, the wall, the clock, the floor, my napkin, and even Clemaina.

Leopold clears his throat. "So, Princess Aylo, do you enjoy long walks?"

I'm forced to meet his green eyes. "Uh...yes?"

"It is unfortunate Aylo was absent yesterday when you arrived," Clemaina says. "We thought she would be back from the memorial in time for supper."

I flashback to when we returned from town. Sigvard and I had eaten in the West Wing, watched over by Wolfgang. He didn't say anything about guests, though I should've known something was up since Clemaina wasn't with us.

"I apologize for not being present," I say. "I was unaware that we had guests."

"It's no trouble at all," Prince Leopold says.

"Perhaps Aylo can make up the time today," Clemaina says. I can't hide the confusion that twists onto my face when I turn to her. She gives me an innocent smile.

"I don't believe that Princess Aylo owes me anything." Prince Leopold stares directly at me, as if I were glass he's trying to see through. "Though I wouldn't be opposed if you wanted to go on a walk this afternoon."