Neve clenched her fists, the tiniest display of defiance. Yet Prince Claris seemed to notice, sending Neve a smug look.
"Is that a suggestion, Your Majesty?" Neve asked, her eyes narrowing.
"It is an order."
A few members of the Royal Court let out audible gasps. The older nobles aligned with House Rosentine, or those who were somehow indebted to Duke Fallon, looked outraged.
It was rare for women to serve in the military, let alone a noblewoman of marrying age like Neve. The Royal Court grew louder and louder with every passing breath–the same question on everyone's lips. What had House Rosentine done to incur the wrath of the Royal Family?
Neve shared a glance with her brother. Their grim expressions mirrored each other. There was something sinister brewing in the shadows of Asteria, and the Royal Family wanted House Rosentine out of the picture. Whatever it was, the Royal Family was not above putting Neve's life at stake.
"Silence!" Queen Elise cried. "I have ordered it, so it is final. Lady Neve Rosentine will answer her call of duty."
Someone stepped forward, dropping to his knee. It was Lord Whitlock, a distant cousin of Neve. He was an older man, though like her father, he was solid in build. They were not close, but Neve faintly recalled visiting his estate as a child.
"Your Majesty, I humbly implore you to reconsider," Lord Whitlock urged. "Lady Neve is a young woman. The travesties of war are not something–"
"Lord Whitlock," Queen Elise interrupted, her voice dripping with malice. "You would do well to hold your tongue, if you wish to keep it."
Lord Whitlock's mouth snapped shut. He stood up and bowed, offering his apologies. Neve could see the tips of his ears turn red. Out of anger or embarrassment, she couldn't tell.
The Queen Consort turned back to the Rosentine siblings expectantly. Neve found her smug expression to be incredibly hateful.
"You have given House Rosentine much to consider, Your Majesty," Vale said, his voice carrying relaxed assuredness. "Please excuse us, as we must discuss this with our father."
Queen Elise offered the siblings an artificial smile. "Very well."
Vale removed his hand from Neve's shoulder, offering her his arm instead. She placed her hand on him in proper form, and the Rosentine siblings walked away from the Queen and Prince Claris. The Royal Court scurried away from them as they proceeded through the hall.
"Do not look back at them," Vale hissed into Neve's ear.
Her brother did not need to tell her twice. Neve had no desire to see the faces of the Royal Family who had so easily cast her aside. She would never forgive them for humiliating House Rosentine.
They reached the grand entrance, which was decorated in elaborate frescoes and detailed carvings. Two servants held the towering doors open. The Rosentine siblings passed through, Neve nodding to the nearest servant. He smiled at her, as if she was an object of his pity.
How far I have fallen, Neve thought, if even a servant feels sorry for me.
Vale and Neve stepped outside into the cool summer night, the hall doors slamming shut behind them. Their attendant was waiting for them at the end of the walkway, carriage drawn.
Neve glanced back at the Royal Palace, which would have been her home had she married Prince Claris. She had spent much of her youth within these walls. It was more familiar to her than her residence back in the duchy. She was educated strictly in the Palace, forced to navigate the politics of the Court as a mere child. But somehow, the Palace and the Royal Family still held a place deep within her heart.
In that moment, Neve abandoned all feelings of fondness she once held for Prince Claris and his mother. She would get her revenge, and it would begin with her triumphant return from the war.
"The Royal Family must be scheming something," Neve remarked to her brother. "Our position within the empire is no longer secure."
"Indeed," Vale agreed solemnly. "Prince Claris would not annul your engagement for something as trivial as a passing fancy, with a girl like Lady Gemma no less. Queen Elise must have orchestrated everything."
They reached the carriage, which was constructed in the image of House Rosentine. It was large and angular, stained dark grey like the landscape of the duchy. Their court of arms–two white wolves flanking a silver and blue shield–was painted on its side.
Their attendant, a man in his thirties named Thomas, opened the door for Neve. She let go of Vale's arms and began to lift herself into the carriage.
"Lady Neve, wait!"
Neve whipped around, seeing Lady Gemma running after them, her skirts bunched up in her hands. The sound of her heels clacking against the pavement echoed through the quiet night.
Vale stepped in front of Neve protectively, blocking her from Gemma's line of vision.
"It's fine, Vale," Neve said, tugging him back. "I will talk to her. Wait for me in the carriage."
Her brother turned and frowned at her, but complied without protest. He stepped past Neve and into the carriage, closing the door behind him. Thomas wordlessly moved to the driver's seat, offering the ladies some privacy.
Gemma stumbled to a stop in front of Neve, struggling to catch her breath due to her tightly-bound corset. She fanned herself for a moment, tossing her auburn hair behind her shoulder.
"Lady Neve," she began uncertainly, her voice quiet. "Pardon my rudeness."
Neve said nothing, waiting for her to continue. Gemma finally looked up, her vulnerable gaze giving away her young age.
"I'm sorry," Gemma whispered, tears beginning to form. "No one warned me–they didn't tell me what they were going to do to you."
"I know, I don't blame you," Neve reassured the girl.
"It's true, I do like Claris very much," Gemma admitted, a deep blush spreading over her cheeks. "He is quite charming. We have spent many amazing days together."
Neve raised her brow, unimpressed.
"But!" Gemma yelped. "But he never promised me anything. He never talked about annulling your engagement and I never asked him to."
Squeezing her eyes shut, Neve inhaled and sighed deeply.
"You must watch yourself," Neve said, though not unkindly. "No one is safe in the Royal Court, not even the mighty House Rosentine. The Royal Family is up to something, and it can't be good."
"I'm scared," Gemma whispered. "I never wanted to join the Royal Court. What might they do to me, a lowly noble, when they treated you so badly?"
"Being sent off to war is a mild punishment," Neve remarked, "though it is a punishment for a crime I did not commit."
Gemma winced, looking away guiltily.
"Remember that the members of the Royal Family are not your friends," Neve continued. "But you are not alone, you just have to know where your allies are. Now dry your eyes."
The young lady complied, quickly wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. She visibly composed herself and offered Neve a curtsy.
"I wish we could have met on better terms," Gemma said. "Thank you for your kindness. House Henmar will forever be indebted to House Rosentine."
Neve gave her a wan smile. 'Quick wit,' Neve thought dryly. 'It will serve her well.'
"You can repay your debts when I return," Neve replied, amusement in her voice. "Just stay alive until then."
Lady Gemma grinned. "I hope we can be something like allies in the future, Lady Neve."
"As do I."
With that, the young women separated. Neve watched as Gemma returned to the Royal Court, mustering courage with every step. She felt some admiration for the girl, who was not equipped for the Court yet faced it bravely anyway.
Neve waited until Gemma slipped back into the hall before she turned her back on the Palace, wondering how much would change upon her return.