Chapter Eleven- That of Poison and Roses

Eleven

Hello.

Hello.

Hello.

Welcome to Aldridge Palace, where life is a game, a performance.

The royals, the players of this game, all wear masks, so it's unwise to get too close. However, it is in my best interest to learn as much as I can about these "players," about the masks they all wear.

Because... they have to be wearing masks, right? Underneath it all, they feel too? 

Or is there just something wrong with me? 

We sit in silence at the table for a little while, all unsure of what to say. My eyes bounce from person to person, trying to break the uncomfortable silence without personally beginning the conversation. 

Thankfully, the boy seated across from me seems to get the memo. He has dusty blond hair messily swept over olive green eyes, and tiny dimples that appear as he speaks with a smile, "Better watch out, Cas. Look what our fun-sized princess got for breakfast."

My mind ignores the rest of his sentence, focusing on the peculiar nickname. The term "fun-sized" is largely reserved for the smaller size of artisan candies at the market- not for princesses.

"Fun-size?" I retort, "I'm 5 '3, smalls."

"And I'm 5 '6," he smiles, "Which makes you, princess, fun-sized."

I roll my eyes, trying to ignore the smile tugging at my lips. No one asks him to, but the boy continues, "A few cycles back, Casimir had an assignment in Settlement 5. Jace and I went with him, because... yeah. Anyway, the next morning, we got pancakes, and he refused to eat them. And at the time, he didn't even know I'd put Salroot powder in them! Such a waste-"

"Kai-" Casimir snaps, "Are we seriously talking about this?"

I filed away all the information in my brain, despite the perplexity of the situation. The blond boy was Kai, who I remember hearing was the cousin of Jace, Casimir, Nova, Odessa, and Adrienne. Kai, for some reason, had attempted to poison his cousin with Salroot power, which would likely send him into a medically-induced coma of sorts.

"Yes, we are talking about this!" Kai's adamancy kicks me out of my thoughts, "You haven't eaten anything with syrup since!"

My gaze shifts to the uneaten pancakes on my plate, though I'd decided long before this conversation that I wasn't hungry. The Aldridge kids continue to argue, and I lose myself in my thoughts and non-human surroundings once more. The swirly wood grain on the floor matches that of the room where my father died last night, and I find myself blinking rapidly to keep up my facade of strength. The walls of this room, however, are white, contrasting the maroon walls of last night. Both colors, in my opinion, are colors of death.

White is for the ceremonial burial cloths. White is for death of unknown, unseen causes, like poison. I've been assuming that's how the kings were killed: poison. After all, it only took a singular sip from the chalice for the two men to collapse. They died a white death, a clean death, an invisible death.

Maroon is for blood. Maroon is for the flag of the Eldoria, the rival kingdom that had stabbed us in the back time and time again. A maroon death is a messy death, a dangerous death. But in a maroon death, at least there is evidence, at least there is blood, at least there are clues.

My father died a white death, and now I'm left to pick up the invisible pieces.