"Now that George is dead, does that mean the crown princess seat is vacant? Can I finally occupy it?"
Catherine tightened her grip on the mug, but she remained silent, raising it to her lips for a sip of the fragrant mint tea. The warmth of the cup seeped into her palms, yet her heart felt cold.
What did she expect from her stepsister, the second princess of Vesteria?
"Oh, Meredith, do not speak such ill words," the queen scolded, her voice sharp. Yet Catherine wondered if her stepmother's reprimand came from the heart or merely from duty.
A faint smile tugged at Catherine's lips as she inhaled the sweet aroma of the tea. She set the cup down with a soft clink and turned to face her sister.
Meredith met her gaze with a wry smile, her brown eyes fixed intently on Catherine. "I apologize, sister, but the kingdom awaits no one."
"Of course," Catherine murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Catherine glanced at the queen, who flashed her a smile. But she recognized the falseness behind it. "One would wonder how George died this way. It's strange, don't you think, Catherine?"
"Indeed," Catherine replied, though she fisted her hands beneath the table, the tension coiling in her chest.
For a month and two days, she had stayed locked away in her room, deliberately avoiding everyone. Today, however, her father had summoned her to share tea with the family. The word almost made her laugh; her stepmother and stepsister were no family to her. They had never acted as such, and for that reason, she rarely shared a table with them.
An awkward silence stretched in the dining room, and Catherine gazed out the window, where morning light streamed in, illuminating dust motes that danced in the air.
"Catherine," Meredith said, pulling her attention back. "Will you step down now?"
Queen Aleera scolded sharply, "Meredith, be quiet for once."
But Meredith leaned forward, her brow knitted in frustration. "You've never loved the attention your position brings, so why bother? Why have you even—"
Catherine sighed heavily, feeling the weight of the conversation press against her. "Please leave me alone before I forget who I am."
Meredith huffed dismissively, crossing her arms.
"How dare you talk to your elder sister in such a manner?"
They all rose and bowed as King Alaric of Vesteria stepped in, his long crown fixed firmly on his head. His steps were deliberate, and his face wore a stern expression.
"Father," Meredith began after everyone had taken their seats, "I didn't mean to show disrespect, but Cath has stayed indoors for months, neglecting her duties."
Queen Aleera sipped her tea, seemingly oblivious to the exchange, yet her lips curved slightly in amusement.
Catherine sighed and leaned back in her seat. "I have just lost George," she said, staring at the three of them across the table. "And what matters more to you all, is the throne?"
"Catherine," Queen Aleera placed her tea down with a soft clink. "We are, of course, sorry for your loss. But George will not wake from the grave, no matter what you do."
Catherine gritted her teeth and pushed back from the table, desperate to leave.
"Sit down," her father ordered, his voice firm.
A heavy silence hung in the air as Catherine sighed, reluctantly resuming her seat while fixing her gaze on the green tea before her.
"He is dead, Catherine," King Alaric said, his tone unyielding and devoid of emotion.
Catherine bit her lip. No matter how much weight she had to carry, she vowed it would never be in front of them. Never!
Queen Aleera cleared her throat and turned to her husband. Sitting close, she caressed his hand, and Catherine briefly glanced at their hands before quickly looking away.
"My dear," Queen Aleera began in a sweet, coaxing voice, "the position of the crown princess cannot remain vacant. If Princess Catherine is showing no effort to move beyond her mourning, then it may be better for Princess Meredith to take over."
Catherine inhaled sharply. She had to remind herself to breathe or she would lose her composure.
Opposite her, she heard Meredith laughing quietly. "It is hard to pull her out of her room, Father. One wonders when she will ever see the sun again."
"Meredith," Catherine gritted her teeth.
Meredith glanced at her with a bored expression, waiting for her to respond, but Catherine shut her mouth and looked away.
King Aleric cleared his throat, and everyone turned their attention towards him. "The argument will not resolve matters," he said, turning to Catherine. "Which is why I have thrown a ball."
"A ball?" All three of them chorused, their gazes fixed intently on the king.
"Yes," he confirmed with a nod. "All eligible suitors from the kingdom will attend."
"Oh, my King!" Queen Aleera exclaimed, a bright smile lighting up her face. "Are you already considering suitors for Meredith?"
"No," came the king's firm reply. "The suitors are for Catherine."
"What?" Catherine's voice wavered, disbelief washing over her. "I have no interest in marriage."
Across from her, Meredith glared, a storm brewing in her eyes.
"The kingdom cannot bend for a ghost," the king roared, his voice booming in the grand hall. "If you fail to choose from any of the suitors, I shall pick one for you myself."
"Father..." Catherine's shoulders slumped, and tears streamed down her cheeks, each drop a testament to her grief.
It had only been a month since she lost George. How could he do this? "I wish not to marry. I have just lost George," she whispered, her voice trembling like a fragile leaf in the wind, a desperate plea for understanding.
"You will mourn in silence, and you shall obey my words. Prepare for the ball and be certain to brighten your face when you meet the suitors." With that, he pulled his chair back and strode out of the room.
The silence stretched uncomfortably, broken only by the soft whistle of the wind against the windows. Finally, someone raised her voice.
"How is any of this fair, Mother?" Tears streamed down Meredith's cheeks as she glared at Catherine. "You have no interest, yet you are the one being chosen. You spent a month hiding in your room while I attended to every duty a princess should."
Catherine glanced briefly at her, a flicker of guilt passing through her. "I'm sorry," she murmured, wishing silently, I didn't want any of this either.
Meredith pushed back her chair and stood, rage bubbling within her. "I hate you!" she shouted, then stormed out of the room, her footsteps echoing.
Queen Aleera's smile vanished, replaced by a cold stare of disappointment. "You must be pleased now. You always take everything from Meredith. You should be a good sister, Catherine, but this—just when it's Meredith's turn to shine—you've snatched it away from her."
With a frustrated huff, she too pulled back her chair and walked out, leaving the air thick with tension and unspoken words.
Catherine closed her eyes and fought back the tears, but they kept spilling over. Instead, memories of when George had kissed her beneath the orange tree flashed through her mind. He had pulled her into his arms and promised to come for her, to take care of her, and to make sure she wouldn't feel lonely again.
Where was he now? And what had happened to all those promises?
Had she lost everything? Would she now have to choose from suitors she barely liked?
"Oh, George, why would you leave me? Why would you?" she whispered, her voice choked with sorrow.