Chapter 7 Formal Apologies

• Maerilee
• The next morning, I sit straight-backed in my chair, positioned on the dais next to my mother and father. The throne room feels colder than usual, though that has more to do with the political atmosphere than the physical temperature.
• The sun is streaming through the tall windows, casting the room in golden light, but the tension in the room is palpable. My fingers rest on my lap, carefully clasped to avoid betraying any of the unease building in my chest. I’m supposed to be calm, poised. Queenly, as my mother would say.
• At my side mother radiates composure. Father sits on her other side, his expression one of polite anticipation, though I know him well enough to see the glint of amusement in his eyes. The situation isn’t lost on him, though he’d never show it openly. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but he found the entire situation with River and Brook amusing last night. In his mind, it’s just a bout of youthful indiscretion.
• Of course, that’s because he comes from Dearlish, where the customs are much different. Here, any slight against a future queen is enough to be excommunicated for good.
• The heavy doors to the throne room swing open with a creak, and in step King Alastair and Queen Lyria of Oceana, followed by their sons. River walks with his usual swagger, his chin held too high, his nose in the air, while Brook trails behind with his shoulders slightly slumped, as though the weight of his family’s embarrassment rests squarely on him. The difference between the two brothers is stark.
• They approach, and when they reach the foot of the dais, they bow in unison. I resist the urge to let out a sigh. Formality always feels like an unnecessary prelude to conversations that should be simpler, but I understand its importance. My mother would be proud. This is simply how things are done, and I’ve long since learned to respect the nuances of diplomacy.
• “Your Majesties,” King Alastair begins, his voice deep and steady, “we come before you today with sincere regret for the unfortunate events that transpired last night.”
• Queen Lyria nods beside him, her hands folded neatly in front of her, looking every bit the poised monarch.
• “We deeply apologize for the disruption caused by our son, River,” she adds, her voice softer but no less firm. “It was never our intention for such an incident to occur at your ball.”
• I keep my face neutral, though the memory of River’s behavior threatens to make me roll my eyes. I glance at Brook, who’s standing beside his parents, looking like he’s about to crumble under the weight of the apology they’re here to offer on his brother’s behalf. River is staring ahead, expression blank, though I catch the faintest twitch in his jaw. He’s not remotely sorry for what happened, just annoyed that he was caught.
• King Alastair turns to his sons.
• “Brook, River,” he says firmly, the authority in his voice clear. “You owe the princess of Altinna an apology. Now.”
• Brook immediately steps forward. His gaze is fixed on the floor, and he begins to speak in a voice that’s both subdued and apologetic.
• “Your Highness, I’m deeply sorry for the disruption last night. It was never my intention for the evening to unfold the way it did. I apologize for any embarrassment caused.”
• The defeated tone in his voice tugs at something within me, and I can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy. Brook didn’t do anything wrong. If anything, he saved me from a rather unfortunate situation. I won’t let him take the fall for something that wasn’t his fault. And I certainly won’t let him shoulder River’s blame.
• “Prince Brook,” I interrupt, my voice firm but kind. His head snaps up, surprise flickering in his eyes. “There’s no need for you to apologize. In fact, it is I who should be thanking you, again, for saving my dress last night. It was brand new, and if it weren’t for your quick thinking, I’d have been drenched in spring wine.”
• Brook blinks, clearly taken aback. I can see his eyes dart toward his brother before they settle back on me. A faint twinkle appears in them, a spark of something that wasn’t there moments ago. Relief, perhaps.
• “And, if I may add,” I continue, casting a glance toward River, whose expression has darkened considerably. “Redirecting an entire tray of wine with water magic? That’s not an easy feat. I imagine it takes much more skill than, say, causing a little bit of frost on the floor.”
• That does it. River’s face turns an angry shade of red, his jaw tightening as he glares at me. He knows exactly what I’m referring to, and he doesn’t like being called out in front of everyone. He looks like he’s on the verge of saying something, but instead he spins on his heel and storms out of the throne room without a word.
• I don’t bother hiding my satisfaction. My mother will scold me later, I’m sure, but for now, I feel a small sense of triumph. Brook’s eyes are shining now, a faint smile tugging at his lips. I’m glad I could do this small thing for him, even if it means making an enemy of River.
• King Alastair and Queen Lyria stand there for a moment, clearly flustered. River’s abrupt exit has caught them off guard, and they seem at a loss for how to proceed. Finally, King Alastair clears his throat, his voice stiff and formal once again.
• “We deeply apologize for River’s behavior,” he says, though the words sound hollow. “Rest assured, he will be dealt with.”
• Queen Lyria nods, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
• “Yes, we will address this matter immediately,” she sputters, her composure nearly gone. “Please accept our sincerest apologies once more, Your Highnesses.”
• They bow again, though this time their exit is hurried and awkward. Brook trails behind them, his steps slow and measured, as though he’s trying to delay the inevitable. As they leave, Brook glances over his shoulder at me, and for a brief moment, our eyes meet. There’s a silent gratitude in his gaze, and I can’t help but smile in return. He may be forgotten by his parents, overshadowed by his brother, but I won’t let him be overlooked here.
• Once the Oceanans have left, the throne room feels significantly emptier. The tension that hung in the air has dissipated, replaced by a more relaxed atmosphere. Well, relaxed for some of us.
• “Maerilee.” My mother’s voice is sharp, and I turn to see her giving me a pointed look. “That was unnecessary.”
• I brace myself for the reprimand. “I was only telling the truth, Mother,” I reply, my tone respectful but firm. “Brook didn’t deserve to be treated like that, and River—”
• “River is not your concern,” Kimalissa cuts me off, her eyes narrowing slightly. “It is not your place to get involved in the affairs of another kingdom’s princes.”
• “Not to mention,” she adds, her voice softening just slightly, “provoking him in front of his parents was reckless.”
• I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from arguing further. She’s right, of course, but that doesn’t mean I regret it. River needed to be put in his place, and Brook needed someone to stand up for him.
• Before I can respond, my father chuckles softly from his seat. I glance at him, surprised by the amusement dancing in his eyes.
• “Come now, Kimalissa,” father says, his voice warm and teasing. “She’s got a point. River is a bit of a prat, and someone needed to say it.”
• My mother shoots him a sharp look, but he merely grins back at her.
• “Besides,” he adds, still chuckling. “I thought it was rather well played. Very diplomatic, in its own way.”
• I catch movement out of the corner of my eye and notice Akin standing nearby, his face schooled into a neutral expression. But there’s a glimmer in his eyes, too, and the corners of his mouth twitch upward. He’s trying very hard not to smile, though he’s clearly enjoying the whole thing.
• “I suppose,” my mother says with a sigh, clearly outnumbered. “But that doesn’t change the fact that we must tread carefully with the Oceanans. A misstep could lead to political fallout.”
• “I’ll be more careful next time,” I promise, though I know I’ll still speak up if I feel it’s necessary. My mother knows this, too, and she gives me a look that says as much.
• “See that you are,” she says, her tone softening slightly. “I know your intentions were good, but we must always think of the bigger picture, Maerilee. The safety of Altinna depends on it.”
• I nod, understanding her concerns. We’re surrounded by kingdoms that would seize any opportunity to weaken us, and the Oceanans are powerful allies. I won’t jeopardize that alliance, but that doesn’t mean I’ll let people like River walk all over others, not even his own brother.
• As the room begins to clear, I let out a quiet sigh, feeling the weight of the encounter settle over me. My mother is right in her own way. The world of court politics is delicate, and one wrong move could have lasting consequences. But I also know that we can’t ignore what’s right in front of us just to maintain appearances. Sometimes, we have to stand up for what’s fair, even if it means shaking things up a bit.