She woke up to the shifting of the bed beneath her. Bleary eyes opened catching Zevens broad back.
"I have to leave, I won't be home until tomorrow."
"It's too early."
"It's a few hours ride. Besides, my father wants to meet, he waits for no one. " The word father stuck out as it was said through gritted teeth.
He sat on the side of the bed as he tied his shoes. It was unusual for him to be up this early, let alone be out from under the sheets.
Twisting his torso, he looked back at Chris who was still curled underneath the blankets. He lifted a hand and placed it on her head.
"Would you believe that you look cute curled up that small?"
"I would be more inclined to believe that you suffered from a recent head injury."
He reached back, and ran his fingers through her hair. It was too cold for her to move from underneath the blankets so she let the action go with only a roll of her eyes.
"See you tomorrow."
"Don't die."
"I make no promises."
He stood up from the bed and headed out the door, closing it softly behind him. And as hard as she tried, Chris could not fall back to sleep.
***
The stony walls of the palace felt like they were closing in around him. He walked quickly through the halls, ignoring others as he made his way to the throne room where his father was waiting for him.
There were several attendants who stood guard outside of the two large doors that opened into the room. According to protocol, Zeven waited to be announced before entering. Even as prince, he was not stray from tradition.
When it was his turn to enter, he took a deep breath and composed himself. Assuming the mask he knew well. Molding himself into the perfect heir.
Zeven stood tall as he walked into the large open room. His head held high and proud, each step was a statement to his pedigree.
His father dismissed the others in the throne room with the wave of his hand. His cool black eyes waiting until everyone was gone before leaning forward ever so slightly in his throne. His hands still sitting on the armrests, his fingers curled under ever so slightly. When he spoke it was a cold sound, devoid of any life other than detachment.
"You are not as clever as you believe yourself to be."
"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." Zeven had not moved from the spot he arrived at. Keeping his weight evenly spread between his feet, his face just as empty as his father's.
"I know about the girl you are keeping along with her true identity."
"Is the source of this information more reliable than your son?"
It was like looking in a mirror; the resemblance uncanny, but you still found flaws in it.
"It has been made clear to me how immature you are."
"Has it now?"
"I have gotten word of your little 'game', and I'd advise you to rethink your actions. Just because you inherit the throne soon doesn't mean that you are free to make your own choices."
While Zeven kept his face expressionless, he fought against the urge to respond. There was nothing he could say that would reach his father, the only thing he wanted to hear was yes sir, and Zeven was in no mood to give him that.
"Stop this foolishness. Get rid of the girl. attachment looks disgusting on your face. If you can't do that… I will."
Zeven knew exactly what his father was threatening. His chest tightened and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep him from saying anything rashly. Chris's life was now hanging in the balance and he must choose his words carefully to avoid losing her.
"I'm only using her. Chris's nothing more than a pawn to me."
"Explain."
It was enough to buy him time for an explanation.
"I have put her in a position of helplessness, she is completely under my command. The way it stands, I could take over both my country and hers."
It wasn't a complete lie, it was the original plan. However it did have one major flaw.
"Her father, the king, has publicly announced her death. Christopher holds no sway there anymore. And more importantly, why would she help you?"
"Because… She is in love with me."
His father's face tilted up, and a wicked smile grew.
"Can you prove that?"