Paper Rings Part XI

September 2995

Hard as she tried not to stare, Marie couldn’t help the way her gaze kept drifting back to Caleb’s parents. She knew he saw it too, as did both Ana and James, all trying as she was not to get caught looking at them. 

They were leaning close to each other, Leo at the head of the table and Ariana on his left, both finished eating and now engaged in an intense, hushed conversation. He had calmed down after his peculiar speech at the beginning of the luncheon, but he was agitated again now. Whatever she was saying, he didn’t like it.

Her words weren’t clear, but her tone was as she spoke to her husband, the King, like he was a child to be scolded. If there was any love between them, Marie couldn’t see a hint of it now. There was only the shadow of something dark and ineffable hovering over their marriage. Suffocating it.

Seeming to forget that they were in public, Leo’s voice rose into a low growl, his pale face visibly hot. “You don’t question me.”

Marie felt his words like a punch in her gut. There was something in Leo, something ugly, that the rest of the world never got to see. 

Most people paid no attention to the occasional rumor about his other side. Everyone in the village regarded him as an overall jovial presence despite his regalia, but how he acted to the faces of his common subjects did not reflect how he acted with his family. 

Nobody could deny that the King could put on an award-winning show. He was two sides of the same coin and an apparent master at making it appear otherwise.

At his words, Ariana did not flinch, but Marie could tell that she wanted to. Only by resisting the urge with every fiber of her being did she manage to remain calm, still. Her face did not change, her gaze steady and her mouth set in a thin, unbreakable line. She’d had plenty of practice.

The rest of the table didn’t seem to have heard—or maybe they were simply pretending they hadn’t, going about their business as usual, knives and forks clanking—but she could see Vance, down at the other end, his eyes narrowed at the King. It was as if he sensed it, the storm rolling in.

James and Ana had both looked away. Ana seemed to be trying not to listen, catching the eye of a girl across the table and smiling at her. James fixed his eyes on his plate, his head tilted so his dark curls fell into his face. It was clear that he was still listening, but he was also trying to prevent himself from becoming the subject of his father’s attention. Seated beside Ariana, he would be an easy target. All Leo had to do was look slightly to the left.

But Leo didn’t appear to be at all concerned with any of his children, not even Caleb, who had paused mid-slice to watch his parents. His eyes were narrowed, shoulders tense. 

He was like a big cat preparing to pounce on its prey and tear it to shreds. Only his prey was the most powerful man in the Empire. The punishment for so much as laying a hand on him was death. Even being the Crown Prince may not have been able to save him if it came down to it. There was no way to know.

Ariana leaned closer to her husband and said something else, her tone low as she jabbed a finger into his chest. His face twitched, and Marie had to look away. 

She had walked into the luncheon expecting to face the wrath of the court, not the tempest that was her soon-to-be father-in-law. If she could avoid capturing his attention while he was like this, she would. Her position was precarious enough without having to field him off too. 

“Gods,” Caleb said, cursing as Leo threw down his cloth napkin and rose from his chair.

Conversations came to a halt before he even opened his mouth. His presence commanded attention, and they gave it to him unquestionably, their eyes moving to focus on their king. 

Marie had to wonder if they were all really the dutiful subjects they appeared to be. She wasn’t sure what it was—maybe it was the glimpses she caught of calculating gazes, crossed arms, self-important postures, or minuscule smirks—but something told her they weren’t. 

“My friends,” Leo said, his voice booming across the garden. His arms were open wide, as if to embrace them all, a forced but believable smile plastered across his face, his teeth impossibly white. “I do apologize, but I would appreciate it if you would all excuse me. I have urgent business to attend to. But do enjoy the rest of your afternoon.”

He lied so easily, like a preacher painting fantastical stories he knew were false but told so well that everyone believed them. She might have believed him too, if she were still on the outside with everyone else she had ever known. Now, she knew better.

When he brought his hands back down, conversations resumed as if they had never been interrupted at all. He was no longer reaching out for their attention, so they were to return to business as usual and give him his leave. The roboticness of it all was strange, but nobody else seemed to have a problem with it.

Leo began to walk off, but paused and looked back just long enough for his eyes to lock with Caleb’s. He beckoned for his eldest son to follow him, waving off Ariana when she went to get up too.

“You, stay,” he told her in the same tone with which he might command a dog, sharp and cold. 

But the Queen took it. She sat back in her chair, her posture nothing short of immaculate. Only when he turned his back again did she allow her face to go sour.

“I’m so sorry.” Caleb sighed, already getting to his feet. Marie could feel his unease as if it were her own, burying itself in the pit of her stomach. “I need to take care of him, but I will be back as soon as I can. I promise.” He kissed her—the graze of his lips soft but fleeting—before she had a chance to speak. “I love you.”

He scampered off after his father, disappearing through the ballroom’s thick glass doors. Three guards followed at his back, and Marie noticed Vance pushing out his chair. There was a woman beside him, her hair long and dark. He placed a hand on her shoulder, murmuring something in her ear. 

She nodded and said something to him that Marie couldn’t read. Whatever it was, it must have been an affirmation that she would be okay without him, as he kissed her and rushed off after Leo and Caleb.

Marie caught her eye, if only for a moment. She was a stunning woman, her face bright and soft despite the blade-like sharpness of her features. Her skin, a light brown tone similar to the Queen’s, almost seemed to glow. 

An ally, maybe. If she was anything like Vance.

Ariana stared after them. For once, her emotions were displayed shamelessly on her face—eyebrows knit together, lips pursed in a tight line, nose scrunched, eyes narrowed, even the lines in her forehead deepened. She was angry, scared, sad, and disgusted all at the same time. With her husband. Maybe even with the world.

Marie watched her, taking note of every slight twitch in her body as she took a deep breath and set her face back into its neutral state, unthinking and unfeeling. It was seamless. She must have done it millions of times before, practiced in the art of making herself appear poised. Beneath the surface, she was anything but.

I need to take care of him. Caleb’s words were stuck in her head, playing on repeat as she looked at his mother. Take care of him. Not see what he wants or go with him or anything else of that nature. He needed to take care of Leo. But take care of what?

It was painfully obvious that something wasn’t right.

She leaned over to Ana, resting a hand gently on the young princess’s wrist. “Anastasia,” she said, “is your dad okay?”

“Why wouldn’t he be?” Ana asked, but her voice shook. It was slight, barely noticeable, but it was enough. Marie pushed. 

“He just doesn’t seem like himself to me,” she said, trying to appear unbothered and knowing she was failing miserably at it. “He seems… on edge.”

This was not her place. Who was she to suggest that she knew what the King was like, and to his daughter nonetheless? But she needed to know.

Based on Caleb’s reaction when she had tried to get him to answer the same question, it was likely that this behavior was not out of the ordinary for Leo. Even the court hadn’t seemed all that surprised. The question was: did they see Leo’s instability as just one of his quirks or as the threat Marie was starting to think it was?

Ana hesitated. Her eyes were the same green as both of her brothers’, startling against the darkness of her curls as they flicked to her mother. When she saw that Ariana wasn’t paying attention to them, she lowered her voice and leaned closer to Marie.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, and Marie could tell by the defeated tone of her voice that she was telling the truth, “but I know that it’s probably bad. Bad enough that they won’t even tell me or Jem. Only Mom, Caleb, and his healer, Sailor Aldaine, know. At least as far as I’m aware.”

Somehow, it helped to know that not even Caleb’s younger siblings knew what was going on with their father. It made her less of an outsider, even if she wished her fiancé would confide in her about this as he did everything else.

“I’m sorry.” Marie’s voice cracked as she whispered, her stomach churning. “I know I shouldn’t ask.”

“No.” Ana shook her head. “You’re going to live with us soon. After you and Caleb get married. I get it.”

Under the table, she fidgeted with the folds of her skirt, refusing to meet Marie’s eyes. “It’s been getting worse,” she finally said, her whisper so low Marie had to crane her neck to hear it. “I heard Sailor talking to Mom and Caleb a few weeks ago. She told them that there was nothing she could do, so whatever it is… he’s probably not getting better.”

Lips pursed, Marie inhaled sharply through her nose. Her heart thundered in her ears. “And that’s why they’re getting Caleb ready to be king?”

Ana nodded. “I think so,” she said. “He told James and me that it was just because he’s getting older now, but I know when he’s lying. I always know.”

Marie sat back in her chair, her eyes refusing to focus on anything. She didn’t understand how a family could live with so many things left unsaid. They didn’t just keep things from the court or the public; they kept them from each other. 

It was no wonder her family had been such a shock to Caleb’s system. Both of her parents were adamant about the importance of openness. They believed that warmth was fostered by the ability to confide in one another, and they had spent over twenty-five years together, happy, in a home filled with love, all of it built on that defining principle. It was nothing like this.

She could only hope that, once she was his wife, Caleb would let her in. Secrets, she knew, could destroy a marriage. 

TO BE CONTINUED