“Zoe!” I hissed at her, mortified.
“No, I’m sorry, Charlotte—you two are obviously crazy for each other but you’re pussy-footing around the issue and nothing’s getting done!” She scowled at Kristoff. “If you love Charlotte, you have to fight for her!”
“If you knew the situation here on Femme One, you’d know I’ve been doing nothing but fighting for my Lady,” Kristoff said, frowning. “But what you’re asking me to do would compromise her reputation and ruin her standing with the Council of Wisdom and the peerage of the entire Majoran system.”
“Who cares about them?” Zoe said, frowning. “And who says Charlotte has to be the Goddess-Empress anyway? It’s not like she applied for this job—she basically got forced into it. Why doesn’t she get a say? What about her happiness?”
“Zoe,” I said, rubbing my temples where I could feel a tension headache forming. “It’s just not that simple.”
“This is love, Charlotte,” she said. “It’s never simple. But that doesn’t mean you should give up all sense of self and just blindly sacrifice yourself for a bunch of people you never met before a few days ago.”
“My Lady,” Kristoff said. “We really must go.”
“I have to go,” I told my friends. “Thanks for calling me.”
“We’ll see you soon.” Leah shot me a sympathetic look. “Stay strong, Charlotte. We’ll be there for your coronation.”
Zoe just shook her finger at me. “Remember what I said. Think about it.”
Then the viewscreen went black and their beloved faces faded from view. Kristoff rushed me into the next room to get dressed and made-up but I couldn’t help thinking of Zoe’s words. If only I could follow her advice and do what I wanted to do—love who I wanted to love.
I knew it was impossible, but I couldn’t help wishing, just the same…
Chapter Twenty-nine
Charlotte
“Well, well, my dear—aren’t you looking especially fetching tonight?”
I gritted my teeth and looked at the golden plate, as wide as a hubcap, which was sitting in front of me. Though I tried to ignore it, I could see the reflection of Prince Morbain, sitting right beside me at the banquet table. Not only that, but Head Councilor Tannus was directly across the table from me, though at least he didn’t seem inclined to talk.
It really was a huge table with literally hundreds of other seating options. Whoever had made the seating arrangement and put the odious Morbain directly beside me and the surly Tannus across from me would be in big trouble if I found out their identity. I needed to talk to the chamberlain of seating charts or whoever it was and make sure it never happened again.
Still, here we were and since everyone else was already seated, it didn’t seem likely that I would be able to change seats, especially since I was smack-dab in the middle of the enormous table in a special throne-looking chair. Morbain was seated on my left and the seat on my right was empty. I had tried to get Kristoff to sit there beside me but he had declined.
“I am sorry, my Lady,” he’d murmured in a low voice. “But that seat is kept empty on purpose. It is the seat your future Consort will occupy once you choose him.”
Of course then I wanted him to sit to my right more than ever but he was standing behind my throne-chair instead, keeping a watchful eye on everyone at the table. He’d told me that my status as the True Incarnation would do much to keep me safe but it was clear he was still being vigilant and protective, which I very much appreciated.
“I said you’re looking radiant tonight, my dear,” Morbain repeated, stroking his curling pirate’s mustache and leering at my cleavage, which the forest green feasting gown emphasized with its low-cut bodice.
I gave him the most withering stare I could.
“That’s Goddess-Empress or Sundalla the 1000th to you,” I said, biting the words out slowly and clearly. “Not ‘my dear’ or any other endearment or nickname you might think up, Morbain.”
Several of the Royals around us sucked in their breath and I saw glances and whispers being exchanged all up and down the long table. Head Councilor Tannus scowled, as though I’d said something shocking.
I didn’t give a damn. I wanted nothing to do with a murderous, conniving asshole like Morbain and I didn’t care who knew how I felt.
Morbain’s smile became a bit forced.
“Technically you’re not the Goddess-Empress until you’ve been crowned and ascended the Golden Throne,” he pointed out. “Until then you’re simply the True Incarnation.”
“Fine,” I snapped. “Call me that, then. Or better yet, don’t call me anything at all. Let’s just eat and each pretend the other doesn’t exist.”
Morbain opened his mouth, no doubt to give an angry retort, but just then the middle of my hubcap-sized golden plate slid to one side and a steaming pot of bubbling, dark blue broth rose out of the table.
“Oh!” I jumped a little in the huge, padded chair. “What in the world?”
“This is quantro, my Lady,” Kristoff murmured in my ear. “It’s considered a great delicacy. You dip the palas in the quantro pot and they will turn into whatever delicacy the chef has prepared for you.”
“Dip the what into the pot?” I asked, frowning. But just then, a servant in the gold and black palace livery set a plate of small green and blue balls beside the boiling blue broth.
“Those are the palas,” Kristoff said. He nodded to a long, skinny pair of golden tongs next to my plate. “You pick up the pala of your choice and dip it into the pot…” He gestured to the blue, bubbling broth. “In order to reveal the secret tidbit the chef has prepared just for you. But first…”
He reached into a fold of his uniform and withdrew a silver wand with a blinking red light on the end of it. This he proceeded to wave over both the bubbling broth and the green and blue balls—which ranged in size from a walnut to a lemon—until the light turned from red to green and began to glow.
“All right, my Lady,” he murmured in my ear. “You may dine in safety. There is no poison on or in your food.”
“Thanks,” I muttered and he nodded and resumed his place, standing behind my chair.
“Well, well—your Guard is certainly very protective of you, my dear. Excuse me—I mean, True Incarnation,” Morbain remarked as I picked up the golden tongs and looked at them doubtfully.
“Can you blame him?” I snapped. “I’ve nearly been killed three or four times in the space of the last week. Apparently someone doesn’t want me on the throne. Can’t imagine who that might be.” I glared at him as I spoke but he didn’t even have the grace to blush or drop his eyes.
“A most regrettable state of affairs, I’m sure,” he remarked, picking up his own tongs. By now, a pot of the bubbling blue stuff had appeared in front of everyone at the table and the servants had finished placing the plates of blue and green balls in front of all the other diners as well.
After a moment, I became aware that everyone at the table was looking at me expectantly.
“True Incarnation,” Head Councilor Tannus said, looking down his long, boney nose at me across the table. “It is customary for the Goddess-Empress to take the first bite at a banquet of state.”
“Oh. Oh, of course,” I said, feeling foolish and put on the spot. Quickly I grabbed one of the little blue balls at random and dunked it into the bubbling blue broth.
Of course, I had no idea how long it was supposed to cook but after a moment I checked my tongs and saw that the blue casing around the tidbit of food had melted, revealing…
A long, green, writhing slug.
“Ugh!” I exclaimed involuntarily and nearly dropped my golden tongs.
“Oh, a perech grub—and still alive too!” Morbain exclaimed. “Such a delicacy!”
“It…it’s supposed to be alive?” I asked in a low voice.
“Most assuredly! They’re quite a rarity this time of the year—normally they only spawn in the rainy season. Why?” He raised one pointed black eyebrow
at me. “Is it not to your taste?”
“We…on my planet, we don’t usually eat slugs. Especially not live ones,” I said, still revolted by the wriggling green slug dangling from my golden tongs. It was as long as my hand and dripping with clear, viscous slime.
“A great pity—you’re missing out on a delicacy,” Morbain remarked. “Still, until you eat it, no one else can eat their food. The Goddess-Empress must take the first bite—or gift it to someone at the table.”
I looked up and saw that it was true—no one else at the table had taken a single bite. Most of them were holding other bits and pieces of food in their tongs —although none of them seemed to be slugs—and staring at me expectantly.
Oh my God—was I actually going to have to eat this thing? Was I going to have to eat a live slug?
I knew what Zoe would have done—she would have thrown down the tongs and demanded to speak to the chef. She was never shy about sending things back at a restaurant—even a swanky one. But this wasn’t a restaurant—this was my first official banquet with the people I was supposed to be ruling over. I couldn’t let it appear that I thought their food was disgusting—even though it really, totally was.
I brought the slug closer to my mouth, thinking about the blonde girl who gets sold to the barbarians on Game of Thrones. There’s a scene where she’s pregnant and has to eat a whole, raw horse’s heart in order to make her baby strong or something crazy like that. It cements her place as the barbarian queen and later on she gets to ride dragons or something—I don’t know, I only remember the parts Zoe made me watch. Anyway, I told myself, at least a live slug isn’t as disgusting as a raw horse’s heart. But somehow I couldn’t make myself believe it.
“What is the matter, True Incarnation?” Head Councilor Tannus pitched his voice to carry to everyone seated at the table. “Do you not find our food to your liking?”
“Of…of course not,” I managed to say. “I mean, of course I do. I’m just…considering which end to eat first.”
“One usually starts with the head,” Morbain recommended helpfully. “That way you can save the tasty intestinal tract for last.”
That was it—I was going to puke. I could feel my gorge rising and I had to swallow hard in order to keep the light lunch I’d had earlier down. Kristoff had told the kitchen staff to make me several light meals by now and none of them had involved anything alive. Why did I have to deal with this now, in public, in front of every single Royal in the palace?
“You can, of course, gift the first morsel of food to a fellow diner at the banquet,” Morbain hissed in my ear. “Would you like me to eat the grub for you, my dear?”
I didn’t want to have anything to do with him but it seemed like the only way out. Because I just couldn’t put that green, slimy, wriggling slug in my mouth—I just couldn’t.
“Fine.” I dropped the slug onto his side plate carefully. “Have it.”
“Why, thank you.” Morbain stabbed the squirming creature with a sharp, two-pronged fork. There was a high-pitched shrieking sound, which seemed to come from the hapless slug, and then he shoved it into his mouth and bit down hard, cutting off the cry of pain abruptly. A brown string-like thing squirted out from between his lips and landed on his chin. Without missing a beat, he scooped it up with one finger and examined it.
“What…” I felt more nauseous than ever. “What is that?”
“The intestinal tract, as I told you.” He offered it to me on the end of one stubby finger. “Are you quite certain you don’t want it?”
“Positive,” I said, wondering if it would cause a horrible scandal if I puked under the table. “You…you go ahead.”
“Suit yourself.” He shrugged and slurped it up like a long brown spaghetti noodle, making me cringe.
“My Lady,” I heard Kristoff murmur, leaning down to speak in my ear. “Are you well?”
“Fine…I think.” I swallowed hard, feeling some of the nausea start to recede. “I just…couldn’t eat that.”
“You should have given it to someone else, then.” He sounded unhappy. “The gift of the first morsel of food on the Empress’s plate is reserved for her Consort or a treasured favorite.”
“What?” I glared at Morbain, who was dunking a lime-sized green ball into his bubbling broth and carefully not looking at me. I felt like I had been tricked, especially when I saw a slight smile hovering around Councilor Tannus’s thin-lipped mouth as he ate a morsel from his own pot.
“Just don’t do it again,” Kristoff advised and straightened up, standing guard behind my chair.
“Fine,” I muttered, more to myself than him. “I won’t.”
Deciding to try again, I picked an egg-sized green ball this time. I dunked it in the boiling blue liquid—which was really too gummy to be broth—and waited until the outer covering melted.
A writhing, green and purple beetle with three inch-long antenna was revealed, caught in my tongs.
I gasped and dropped the golden utensil. It clattered against my plate and the bug—which was as big as one of those giant roaches we have down in Florida—skittered off down the table.
People began to murmur and all eyes were on me until Morbain reached out and stabbed the beetle with his two-pronged fork. He popped it into his mouth and ate it with a disgusting crunching sound, grinning at me as he did so. Everyone relaxed and started eating again—everyone but me, that was.
“My Lady, are you all right?” It was Kristoff, leaning down to whisper in my ear once more.
“No,” I whispered back. “Kristoff, what is going on here? This is nothing like the food you’ve had served to me in the Royal Apartments! Why do I keep getting live slugs and roaches?”
He looked unhappy. “Someone must have told the Royal chef that you enjoyed exotic cuisine. I will disabuse him of the notion in the future but for now there is nothing I can do.”
I could guess who that “someone” had been. I had been set up to make it look like Morbain was a friend or favorite of mine somehow—but why? Would it really gain him that much status to eat food that was meant for me? Possibly, I supposed, but it was too late to worry now. I would just have to go on with the feast and try to pretend I was eating my own food from now on.
Picking up the golden tongs, I grabbed another little round ball and dunked it in the boiling blue goo. After a while, I lifted the tongs just about an inch out of the broth and peeked at what was in them.
Something hissed at me and a forked tongue flickered in my direction.
Grimly, I plunged the tongs back into the bubbling pot and waited until I thought the weird food item must have drowned. Taking another peek I saw that I was right. It hung limply from the tongs, looking like a drowned snake with three heads and two tails. Great—I was supposed to eat this thing?
Instead, I discretely let it slip back into the pot and grabbed another ball to dunk in the goo.
For the rest of the banquet, that was what I did—dunking the balls in the goo to kill whatever emerged and then just leaving them in the broth. Soon my pot looked like a witch’s stew filled with dead insects, slugs, worms, and even something that appeared to be a tiny bat, all boiling in a slimy dark blue broth. It was disgusting but at least it appeared that I was participating in the feast.
I was extremely glad when a servant rang what sounded like an immense gong and announced, “Royals of Femme One, the moment you have been waiting for has finally arrived! If you will all adjourn to the Culling Chamber, we can begin the Ceremony.”
Kristoff
Everyone rose and I took Charlotte by the elbow and led her away from the table. Surrounded by her honor guard, we traversed a long hallway and then went down a long flight of steps that led to a vast, arching double door made of silver.
This chamber was used only once a generation when the Empress chose a new Consort. The staff, I saw, had done a good job of cleaning it and making it ready to receive the crowd of Royals who were to attend the Culling Ceremony. It was a large auditori
um with a stage at the end of it which had been set up specifically for that purpose.
I didn’t like putting Charlotte up on the stage until I had to—it made her too much of a target, in my opinion. Instead, I stood at the foot of the steps, waiting until the entire crowd was seated and the Council of Wisdom had taken their places on the stage.
Then, and only then, did I lead Charlotte up the steps and seat her on the golden, throne-like chair in the center of the stage which had been prepared for her.
She moved carefully but gracefully in the heavy green gown I’d had made for her. I reminded myself to order her lighter outfits in the future. She wasn’t as big or as strong as a Majoran born Empress would have been although, to my eyes at least, she was twice as lovely as any other female in the room.
Stop thinking of how lovely she is and just concentrate on protecting her, I told myself as I got her seated. This is the last time she’ll want you, anyway. After she gives her blood to the candidates, she’ll begin to long for one of them.
I wondered who the three the Council had chosen were. Usually it was an array of young Royals, all picked from the foremost families. Young males around the Empress’s age with impeccable bloodlines and the blood of past Goddess-Empresses flowing in their veins.
I couldn’t see for sure who it was, though, because of the black cloth barrier stretched in front of the candidates. As was the tradition, the barrier hid them from both the prying eyes of the audience, and the gaze of the Goddess-Empress herself. In this way, she was supposed to be able to make a completely impartial decision. After the three the Council had picked had ingested her blood, she should begin to be drawn to one of them. Often the result was instant, though sometimes it took hours or even days to determine the true Consort.
I thought of how Charlotte had seemed fine at first, after giving me her blood, and then how the Burning Blood disease had set in later. Would she have the same delayed symptoms when one of the Royal lineage consumed her blood or would she be immediately drawn to the right male for her?