The same could not be said for the nobles sitting at the trestle tables. Everywhere she looked, she was surrounded by a veritable rainbow of gowns and tunics. Many of the women even wore bright hairpieces to match their dresses. Feathers and imitation flowers reached for the ceiling, rustling with every movement. Rayne had never seen so many colors in her life. Their arms were all bared, too, to show their status, as if their ridiculous outfits hadn’t been enough proof of their freedom.
All of the multicolored heads turned to her when she stepped into the dining hall, but she kept her eyes on her father. It took him a moment to register her presence, but when he did he stood and opened his arms in welcome. Beside him, Edlyn and Prince Danyll also stood, Edlyn wearing a delicate lavender gown and an ear-to-ear smile. Rayne wasn't able to return the smile, so she looked away, her hand clutching the vial of sorrow leaf tea in her pocket.
The room fell silent. “Ladies and gentlemen of the court, allow me to present to you my youngest daughter, Rayne Crowheart, who has spent the last five years in captivity.” Here he paused to allow the nobles to murmur the appropriate noises of shock and awe. “She has returned to us in one piece thanks to General Malstrom and Prince Ashsky. Please make her feel welcome.”
The applause was polite as she moved forward to her seat at the dais on Edlyn's other side. Tierri followed her, taking a seat at the end of the table near Prince Danyll, leaving her to walk the rest of the way alone. She refused to make eye contact with her sister again as she skirted past her and took her seat, her dress rustling around her legs. It was difficult to move in, let alone sit. She pressed it down, stuffing it beneath the table, glad to use it as an excuse to hide her shaking hands.
Luckily, she didn't have to talk. The almoner led them in the blessing, crediting Rayne's return to Enos, the Conqueror. It was their belief that Enos was the one true god that drove her ancestor, Casuin Crowheart, and his followers across the Impassable Strait to found the Casuin Empire. In Dusk, she had attended service in the palace chapel every day. Every morning of the first twelve years of her life had been spent kneeling beside Rin, Edlyn, and their mother with her eyes closed in what was supposed to be silent contemplation. They were meant to use the time to think of ways to spread their influence and conquer new lands. It was where she had first learned the art of keeping her face blank. No matter what she and her siblings did to one another—kicks beneath the bench, pebbles thrown behind their mother's back—she never got caught.
She bowed her head and clasped her hands in familiar subservience as the rest of the court did, and only half-listened to the almoner wax poetic about their blessed kingdom. Rayne wasn't sure how she felt about Enos anymore. Did he deserve her loyalty when he kept taking everything away from her over and over again? She remembered the story of the savage gods that Tierri had told her and wondered if perhaps all gods were just cruel-natured.
“Unto Enos, so be our lives.”
“So be it,” they all echoed, Rayne included as she lifted her head. The clergy's exit was followed by servants carrying trays of bread and butter, and butlers serving a tart white wine. Her father selected a chunk of bread and broke it, giving her the larger half.
“I must admit,” he said, swiping butter over the steaming soft innards of his bread, “I had not thought to live to see this day.”
On her other side, Edlyn leaned forward. “The day you let me out of my rooms?” she asked, but she was just teasing him, and his soft smile made it clear he knew that.
“The day I once again sat to a meal beside my daughters.”
A fist closed around Rayne's heart and she looked away. A kitchen slave wearing an iron band was going down the line, placing bowls of broth in front of the diners. Rayne waited until he was between her and Edlyn and shoved her chair backward. The hot broth spilled down Edlyn's front. The girl leaped to her feet, Danyll beside her, cursing at the slave. Rayne caught Tierri's eye—he was the only one not trying to help the princess.
She had made her chance, and she wasn't going to waste it. Her heart pounded in her ears, drowning out the sounds of the commotion behind her. She pulled the vial from her pocket and dumped the contents into Edlyn's wine goblet. She could only hope that the tart wine would hide the bitter smell of the poison. The vial back in her pocket, she turned to her sister with a napkin in hand, ready to help clean up the mess.
“Oh, sister,” she said, raising her voice above the others. “I do hope you weren't burned.”
Edlyn batted away the last of the helpers and returned to her chair. The broth had left a wet stain on her light-colored dress, but Edlyn's optimism had not waned. “No, no,” she said. She smiled at Rayne and then turned to Danyll, who was still standing, his eyes flicking between Rayne and Edlyn. “Accidents happen.” Edlyn put a conciliatory hand on Danyll’s arm, and Rayne cleared her throat uneasily and looked away.
The slaves were removing the bread crusts and bowls and bringing out the second course, boiled pork with an array of colorful vegetables. Her father drew his dagger and sliced her portion of meat before his own.
“I almost didn't believe it,” Edlyn said as Prince Danyll served her meat. “When father called me for dinner, I thought Danyll's eyes would pop out of his head.”
“It's easier to protect you in a controlled environment,” the prince said. “Anything can happen here.”
“Nothing will, though, you'll see.” Edlyn’s hand squeezed Danyll’s arm where it rested on the table.
“You certainly don’t make my job easy,” Danyll said. “Remember when you jumped out the window in Lerora to run off with that archer?” He slid a piece of pork off of the knife and onto Rayne’s plate.
A shadow passed over Edlyn's face, so fleeting that Rayne would have missed it if she hadn't been watching her so intently, waiting for her to take a drink. Her fingers were knotted in her skirts, trying to keep her hands from batting away the wine goblet, spilling its contents over the floor to stop her sister from drinking.
“That was a long time ago,” Edlyn finally said, her voice too high and cheery to be authentic. “Much has changed since then.”
Their father tore at his meat, watching his daughters thoughtfully. “When Rayne asked me to invite you, how could I deny her? She was right. The people need to see their future queen. Now that the threat in Shade has been dealt with and your sister returned, perhaps we can discuss extending the barriers of your confinement.”
Edlyn blushed and looked down at her plate, while Danyll on her other side made a noise of dissent, his eyes glancing off of Rayne and her father. Enos save her, she couldn't do it. She was only half-listening, her hand creeping toward the goblet, ready to toss it to the ground, when Tierri stood, his chair scraping loudly against the stone floor, his own goblet in his hand.
“A toast!” he said, his voice too loud for the confined space. It worked to draw every eye to the front of the room. Rayne withdrew her hand, glaring at the general. “To the Crowhearts. May they be united always.”