I'm sprawled on the floor with my book close to the fireplace when someone strikes the bell ten times, signalling me to get dressed.

Time for dinner.

I sigh and put my book down, emptying what's left of my wine. I hesitate a moment, considering that this is the last of my pilfered bottles, but I take a swig anyway. I'll need it tonight.

It takes five full deep breaths and an exasperated groan before I manage to get up and open my ancient looking, wood carved closet.

Ask me about weaponry and I'll name you the swiftest and the most efficient ways to use it. Ask me about authors, painters, musicians, and I'll babble incessantly. But getting dressed up for a royal supper? Of that I know nothing about.

I run my hand through my hair, thinking that this shouldn't be too difficult. I remind myself that this is just a close knit dinner and Ekho will be there. But then again, if it involves the entire Royal family, it is not just a "close knit" dinner after all.

I desperately scan the closet over and over, until I finally decide to go with a basic Burgundy dress. It is Knee length and a tad puffed at the sleeves, with the neck line a little too deep. It clearly exposes my Helix mark, below the left side of my collar bone. I'm starting to think that this might be a little inappropriate, given how the people of Zephyr do not like to be reminded of someone from Asteria. But tonight, I choose not to hide it. Partly because I am too tired to try on anything else, and party because I am willing to risk the possible wrath of the monarch itself because I am that big of an idiot. And I do not care much at this point. Consequences be damned.

I leave my hair down, giving it a quick brush, wash my face hoping it would wipe away signs of sleep deprivation and the nerves off my face.

No such luck.

I give myself a once over in the mirror.

Well, burgundy looks decent against my olive skin tone and dark brown hair...other than that I cannot tell if this attire suits a Royal dinner.

I'm not royal after all, so trying to dress up as one or as their equal would look ridiculous anyway. And yet I still wonder if this is too casual, but whatever.

I strap my leg sheath high up on my thigh and decide to take a push dagger to go along with it. I'm ready, I think.

I make my way to the Royal chambers, admittedly getting lost a few times, even though I've lived here for almost my entire life...or since Ekho brought me here.

Other than the Royal chambers, I've committed the entire layout of the palace, including all its hush hush passages to memory.

But since I'm not allowed entry into the royal chambers, other than on special occasions, I'm really just wandering around in these dimly lit hallways, hoping I'd find my way somehow.

On this particular stretch, there's no one on the guard, and I stop short to marvel at the magnificent architecture, bathed in candlelight which only accentuates it even more.

Part of me wishes that I could just lay here on the carpeted floor, close my eyes and drift off to sleep; that way I would not have to fall prey to their icy gazes, full of revulsion and mockery. But I'm guessing that's not an option I have.

So I keep moving.

I suppose if I'd known the interior of this part of the palace, I wouldn't have made my descent down those infuriatingly gorgeous staircase, because just around the corner is Kolan.

Drazen, Caspian, and Kolan, are the sons of the Crown head Klymene. The glorious trio of the regal dynasty of Zephyr. If you ask for my opinion, more like arrogant bastards.

Though brothers, they were all mothered by different consorts to the king. Consorts who were all kept very clandestine. I'm not sure they ever got a chance to know what their mothers even looked like.

Ever since Ekho brought me here from Asteria, I've watched them with equal parts fear and equal parts intrigue. Fear because I wasn't someone they felt should be treated with dignity, someone who was worthy of their wickedness and mockery. And intrigue because they are every bit the regal  they're claimed to be. I got to take a glimpse in their spectacular lives, and be a part of it too to some extent.

What I fail to comprehend is their mutual hatred for me. I do not understand if this stems from the long standing war between Zephyr and Asteria, or simply the fact that they all simultaneously hate the crap out of me, just for the hell of it. Or both.

Now, Kolan casually stands against the doorway, in his navy blue shirt, tailored fit to his body, lighting a cigarette. His black hair is slightly wet and dishevelled, falling perfect on his forehead. He is devilishly gorgeous, but I am trying my best to not let that particular thought cross my mind even though it's gnawing to be acknowledged. That doesn't excuse the fact that Kolan has a demeanour so deserving a smack on the back, but he still somehow manages to make it all look charismatic.

I half consider turning around and retracing my steps, but that would only make it clear that I'm running away, since I'm sure he heard my footfall. Instead, I feign all the nonchalance that I can muster, straighten my shoulders in an attempt to look sure of myself, and stride forward . I have no intention of speaking to him, and I'm sure the feeling runs both ways.

Against my better judgment, he looks me up and down, archs an eyebrow as if he finds me amusing, and then scoffs when his eyes land on my helix.

Though my heart is beating violently, all I feel is the fury coursing through me. I clench my fists, wishing I could use them to their full potential right now. Preferably on his jaw and those stupid full lips. But I choke on my rage, like I've done a thousand times before.

"Something funny, princeling?" I spit the words at him as placidly as possible.

"Only that you look like an absolute joke," he smiles at me, his words nothing but laced with venom.

This insufferable bastard.

" You may not believe, but I've been called so much worse, and joke doesn't do me justice." I tilt my head and return his smile.

"When have I failed to believe you?" he says with a dismissal of his hand, his voice full of ridicule. That only makes me want to smash his head even more.

You will believe me a lot more when I stab the life out of you, you nincompoop.

He looks at me with a smirk, and I know he is expecting some witty response so that he can continue playing his game. I know he wants me to challenge him. That much I can tell from looking in his dark brown eyes.

But I will not give him that satisfaction.

I give him my sweetest smile, the one that seals the air of spite between us, and move past him.

I resist the temptation to give him the finger, take a deep breath, and make my way to the Dining hall.