"What were the weekly tests they went through?" I questioned, my voice calm but carrying a weight of authority that demanded an answer. My gaze swept across the room, my expression unyielding. There was no way I would allow them to subject me to more than what the other girls had already endured. Fairness was not something I would compromise on, and if they thought I would submit quietly to unjust treatment, they were gravely mistaken.
The Queen's secretary, a middle-aged woman with an air of superiority that practically oozed from her posture, stepped forward. She adjusted her glasses with a deliberate slowness, as though ensuring everyone was paying attention. When she spoke, her tone was sharp and condescending, each word dripping with disdain. "The first test is an evaluation of common knowledge regarding our world. Naturally, the future Queen must possess an extensive understanding of the kingdom she is to govern." She paused, glancing around the room with a self-satisfied smirk. Whispers began to spread among the nobles and royals present, their hushed voices filled with barely concealed judgment. The implication was clear: I lacked the formal education required for such a test.
I kept my expression impassive, refusing to dignify their murmurs with even the slightest reaction. The secretary, seemingly unfazed by the growing tension, continued with her explanation. "The second test assessed artistic aptitude, specifically through drawing. All noble and royal girls are expected to have received lessons from an art tutor." Her voice grew more clipped, and the murmurs around me intensified. They were discussing how I had not been given the privilege of such training, their whispers like needles poking at my patience.
Still, I remained silent, my face a mask of serenity. Let them talk. Their opinions meant nothing to me.
"The third test," the secretary went on, "was to evaluate singing ability. The fourth focused on literature—reading, writing, and critical thinking, all of which are essential for a royal figure." She adjusted her glasses again, her tone growing even more condescending as she continued listing the trials. "The penultimate test was an assessment of their dancing skills. As you know, grace and etiquette are indispensable for someone of high status." She cast a pointed glance in my direction, clearly intending to belittle me. "Lastly, the test conducted last week was a memory evaluation. It required the girls to recall complex details presented to them."
She paused for effect, her smirk widening as if to emphasize my supposed disadvantage. "And today's test," she concluded, her words slow and deliberate, "is also tied to music. This time, however, the focus is on their ability to play musical instruments, a highly valued skill in courtly settings."
I nodded slowly, taking in her words without a hint of concern. Each test she mentioned sounded laughably easy, and I felt no need to feign humility. Instead, I let my confidence show in my poised response. "Who will ask me the common knowledge questions?" My voice was steady, betraying none of the irritation I felt at the unnecessary theatrics.
Before anyone else could speak, the Princess stepped forward. She had been waiting for this moment, clearly eager to assert her dominance. "I'll do it," she declared, her tone laced with smugness. Her eyes met mine, glinting with thinly veiled hostility. "The questions can't be the same as those asked of the other girls, of course. That wouldn't be fair, as you might have overheard their answers."
Her attempt to undermine me only amused me. "As you wish, Your Royal Highness," I replied smoothly. My voice was calm, my tone devoid of any hint of challenge. It was far more satisfying to remain unbothered, letting her frustration mount. Sohan, ever attentive, placed a chair behind me, and I lowered myself onto it with deliberate elegance. My posture was perfect, my movements unhurried. "I'm ready. You may begin whenever you like, Princess."
The Princess's lips tightened as she narrowed her eyes at me. Her frustration was palpable. "Alright," she muttered under her breath, clearly speaking to herself. "Let's put you in your place."
Without missing a beat, I tilted my head slightly, a faint, knowing smile gracing my lips. "No need to bother, Princess," I said in a voice that carried just enough amusement to be infuriating. "I'm already in my place."
The tension in the room was thick, but it was abruptly broken by the arrival of someone new. My brother, Rai, entered the room, his presence commanding attention without effort. His stride was confident, his expression unreadable. He greeted the Queen with a respectful bow before turning his gaze to me. His words were unexpected, catching everyone off guard. "I heard someone here broke your ribs, Thya. Are you alright?"
The use of that name—Thya—stirred something in me. Why was he addressing me like that, especially in such a public setting? Before I could respond, the Princess interjected, her voice high-pitched and defensive. "My brother didn't do that, Prince Rai! This girl is lying!"
Her desperation was almost laughable, and her blind devotion to her brother was painfully obvious.
Rai's gaze shifted to her, his expression hardening. "Don't speak of things you don't know, Princess," he said sharply, his tone brooking no argument. "Your brother admitted to me that he threw my sister against a marble wall. Not only did he break several of her ribs, but he also left her with other injuries." His voice was calm but carried an edge that silenced the room. "My sister doesn't have the habit of lying."
The Princess's face turned red with a mix of embarrassment and anger. "What? Why are you acting like this? You hate her! Shouldn't you be happy that she's hurt?"
Her reckless words hung in the air, and I could feel the tension rising. I fought the urge to react, knowing that silence would be the most powerful response.
Rai, however, seemed unfazed. If anything, her outburst only fueled his irritation. "It seems," he said, his voice cold and measured, "that there's a significant issue with the morale of the Royal family recently."
His statement was unexpected, and I couldn't help but feel a flicker of satisfaction. Perhaps my brother wasn't as predictable as I thought.
Turning back to me, his tone softened. "How are you feeling, Thya?"
I hesitated briefly before responding. "The doctor tended to me," I said, my voice steady and composed. "My ribs are still broken, but I'm better now." Despite my reluctance to engage, it would have been rude to ignore him. "There's no need to fight over it," I added, hoping to defuse the growing tension.
"What are you doing now?" he asked, his tone casual yet oddly attentive.
The question caught me off guard, and I couldn't help but let out a soft laugh. "I missed the exams the other girls took," I explained, gesturing toward the Princess. "So, the Princess decided I should go through all of them now."
He nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "You're not a prodigy for nothing. You can handle it," he whispered, his words carrying an odd mix of encouragement and amusement. It was clear he knew more than he was letting on, and his behavior only confirmed my suspicions.
"Adonis, bring me a chair," Rai commanded, his voice firm. His servant obeyed immediately, placing the chair slightly behind mine. Rai sat down with a casual ease, leaning back slightly. "I'll stay right here," he murmured, his words meant only for me.
His behavior was so unlike him that I was momentarily thrown. But then again, I wasn't acting like myself either. Perhaps it was best to leave these questions for later. I nodded once in acknowledgment before turning my attention back to the Princess. Her face was a picture of barely contained rage, her chest rising and falling with sharp breaths.
"Let us start," I said, my voice calm but firm. The authority in my tone left no room for hesitation.