Vicious | ongoing

chapter thirteen

C H A P T E R
T H I R T E E N

The following day, breakfast was unbearably awkward. Or maybe that was just me. No, it was definitely me.

There was nothing uncomfortable about Josiah's spoon scraping the side of the bowl ever so slightly or Cecilia talking about her recent studies or even Demetrius sitting in his usual seat, mulling over the day's paper. And yet, in my head, I was imagining the floor swallowing me up.

What a cliché.

"Everly," Josiah said, for what appeared to be more than once, as I looked up to see him looking a little confused. "What's wrong? You're spacing out."

I waved my hand, inadvertently flicking a speck of milk onto the tablecloth. "Nothing, nothing." I ignored the gaze of the king further down the table, having probably been distracted from the enthralling news of the soon to be engagement that decorated every newspaper in the city. "Keep going with what you were saying."

"I was saying," he said, bypassing my momentary laps in paying attention. "Cecilia wants to get a new gown made."

"A gorgeous blue one, Evey," she suddenly cut in, pushing forward in her chair and showing me the magazine she was looking in. "Either this style." She flicked a few pages. "Or this."

I nodded. "The second, for sure."

I was no fashion expert, per say, by any account but I had, you know, the function of my eyes.

"You're right," she said. Again, she returned her eyes to the first one. "This one would make me look a little—"

"As I was saying," Josiah interjected, speaking a little louder to drown out Cecilia's rambling. "You can either spend the day with her or you can accompany me and the King—" he still seemed to struggle keeping his face emotionless as he referred to him, almost grimacing. "— to a meeting with parliament."

"Why would she want to do that?"

"Because it's intellectually stimulating. It actually requires some work," he said, glaring at his sister. "Unlike buying some dresses."

"I'm sorry, Josiah," she said, hardly lifting her eyes from the page and yet conveying enough emotion to send half a dozen men fleeing. "I didn't realise you were an expert in dress making. Please do tell me how easy it is. Go on, go get your tape measure."

"I'm not saying—"

"Well, then, shut the fuck up." She exhaled loudly before slumping back in her chair, victorious.

"Anyway," he said, attention back to me. "What do you want to do? Can't have poor Everly getting bored can we?"

Cecilia spoke before I could. "No, we can't, otherwise she might be so bored as to crawl into someone's bed." Under her breath, she muttered. "And it won't be your's."

I sat, shocked, whilst Josiah looked outraged. "Cecilia!" We both let out.

She didn't seem at all deterred by our cries. "I'm only joking. Don't get your royal thong in a twist. She hasn't got any in months. She's practically salivating seeing those naked statues over there."