Eyes Like The Ocean | A Culled Crown Novella

Chapter 12

Oredison Palace, Gazda.

The announcement.

Viera did the announcement. She told herself that the fake smiles were for her mother—that way she would be able to see that Viera was alright. It had been easy enough to do.

Malcolm had arranged things so her announcement would be in the throne room—rather than at the Gazda train station like all the others would be. Someone had given her a small printed card and told her to read it aloud. The whole thing took less than five minutes to do.

Afterward, reporters tried to ask her questions, but she'd been instructed not to answer any. Still, she had listened—heard all the things they said. She felt every flash of a camera or buzz of a microphone as it was pushed toward her.

The guards led her through the crowd towards a small antechamber off to one side of the throne room. She kept her head down, her eyes locked on the navy blue heels the stylists had chosen for her.

Why did you try to run away?

Do you not want to be queen?

Is it true your mother is a cripple?

Who was the boy with you?

Is it true you were kidnapped?

Did you use Leighton Seidel as a way to escape the Culling?

Did she use Leighton?

As if he were a tool and not the one person who understood her. As if he were just a ticket from the competition and not the person her soul longed for. As if she weren't here, in this throne room, because she'd been willing to give anything for him.

The only thing that kept Viera upright was the steadfast hand of guard cupping her elbow. She tried to turn, her eyes searching the gathered crowd for the person who'd asked the question, but it was impossible to tell which reporter had spoken. They were still yelling questions at her, their voices blending in a cacophony of sound and color.

Was the man you ran away with a lover?

Is it true your father is a drunk?

Where did the bruise on your neck come from?

Were you forced to run away?

Did you buy the train tickets?

Did your mother's passing come as a surprise?

Where did you get the fake border papers?

How are you handling your mother's death?

Are you—

Her heart seemed to cease beating in her chest.

Viera could not breathe.

It was unbearably hot. Her lilac colored dress clung too tightly to her torso. It crushed her ribs and pierced her lungs. The world seemed to rock and sway underfoot. She could not catch her balance.

Back and forth the room rocked. Perhaps this is what the sea is like, constantly moving in an endless pull and tug. She wished to be released from that current. It was all too much.

The crowd made a sound—a collective sort of gasp—and then the world was dark.

***

Viera awoke in a darkened empty bedroom. She couldn't remember how she had ended up there—she didn't care. The blankets were warm and she rolled over onto her side, clutching the rich fabrics to her chest. She was still wearing the dress from the announcement. The tight waistband cut painfully into her sides, but she didn't have the energy to get out of bed and take it off.