story - part 26 - conference - 718 words

There are only a handful of people clustered around the long table. Somehow I was expecting more, I was expecting a crowd as opposed to this calm and serious scattering. The King is at the head of the table, Calidris at his left and the young Prince at his right. The Queen does not grace us with her presence, but there is representation from the four wealthiest and most powerful noble families, looking bored and impatient. Rallus points me to a chair, a safe distance away from the rest of them, before sitting off in his own corner.

I am acutely aware of the eyes on me, taking in my ragged appearance and the ruined wings, the way nervous my my hands shake, how hard it is for me to sink down to sit in that chair. I refuse to look up and see the disgust and shock on their faces, instead stare intently down at my hands. I am used to the horrified fascination with my wings, but that does not mean I like it.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see two of the nobles lean in close to each other, share a secretive murmur and a restless shift. The woman smiles faintly, almost rolling her eyes, and swats the man away. There is another moment of awkward, fidgeting silence before the King clears his throat, drags my attention upward.

"Lady Calidris has told us much of what you explained to her. We...ah. We know why you ran away, and...understand your reasons for vanishing from the public eye, and understand to an extent the past. What we do not know is where you went, and what compelled you to come back to the court." Fingers lacing together against the top of the counter, something flat and careful about his tone. He is struggling not to burst into a snarl and chew me out again.

I let my eyes wander sideways, to Calidris. She looks almost apologetic, almost pitiful, some of that noble attitude sapped out of her. Eyes are wide and brows knitted tightly together in the middle of her forehead, lips shifting absentmindedly. She is afraid that I will be upset with her for having given away my secrets, and that nervous edge makes me smile faintly. I do have one ally, at least.

Another flickering glance, to the right, to Tumaire. He is still looking pale and tight-lipped, but I am not sure if this is from pain. He looks at me with something dangerously akin to pity in his eyes, something shocked and awed and uncomfortable. He was there when the story was told, he heard it. For some reason, this upsets me more than anything else.

"Technically, we should exile you, but we understand that on occasion there are mitigating circumstances." Corbin's voice drags my attention back to him, to the hands clenched tightly before him and the light in his eyes. His tone is deep and gravelly, he is reluctant to admit any of this, he is still so passionately angry.

"I want you to do your best to explain your actions, and prove to us that you are not a danger. Show us that you can do some good in the palace, and that you are not under her control, and perhaps we will find some other way to deal with you." Shrugging and settling back in his chair, meeting my eyes steadily and easily. I am forced to look away, to the attentive nobles clustered in his corner of the table, to the tapestry on the far wall.

"Where do you want me to start?" Voice still harsh, it rips through my throat, the sound of it makes me wince. I want to seem strong, in front of them, even though it hardly matters. I do not want them to know how this all makes my heart flutter, that I can sense the walls closing in around me. I am almost painfully conscious of the lack of window in the room.

"Start right after you ran away. Make it clear that this was not an act of cowardice, but that it did some good. Tell us what you know, what you can do. We want to know who you are, not who you were."