writere.

The great hall was as beautiful and decorative as ever. Reema hated this room- she always had. It was part of the reasons why she snuck out last night, into the gardens, into the woods beyond the palace walls, into a world where she didn’t have to keep her chin held high with thighs pressed together beneath a dress too big and too obnoxious to sit- or stand- in. In the woods, she could shed her clothes, jump in a lake, climb out, air dry in the summer breeze, and redress. Sometimes, if she were feeling up to it, she’d throw pebbles into a village boy’s window, and invite him to go skinny-dipping with her.

Last night wasn’t one of those nights, not as she heard heavy armour clanking and swords being drawn. The woods weren’t far enough from the palace that she couldn’t hear such horrors. She could have run back, could have tried to save the crowns she knew were being destroyed, but well- Reema was safe. Why should she throw herself back into the chaos when she was so safely away from it? Reema stayed in the woods.

How did she know there was an attack against her family? Easy. All those boys from the poorer villages were such gossips, telling the princess anything as long as she thought to ask. Being the self-preserver of the family, Reema asked about any rumours involving the royals, or nobles. There weren’t many, but some of the captains had been meeting up several regions away from the core palace- something that hadn’t been authorized by the king or queen. Reema had asked them- even snuck into her mother and father's chamber and office spaces, looking for any suspicious documents. There was nothing.

So, it was clear. There would be a coup.

Naturally, the princess would have to return. The consequence of returning to the palace on her own was better than if she stayed out. Reema would be hunted down if she continued to run, hence why she was sat in the Great Hall now, with a feast in front her- steaming hot and almost ready to eat. All she, and the rest of the Cabinet, had to do was wait for the "lead duke."

The princess peered at her plate, then to the lord boy's next to her. "Well, that is a delicacy," she said to him. Her plate was riddled with unorganized slivers of asparagus lathered in some...sauce...she'd never seen. Reema didn't even like asparagus- those nasty sprouts of green.

"Say, what do you have?" She examined the plate on her left, another plate better than her own. "So that is how it is going to be." Poisoning. Did they really view her so pathetically they wouldn't even bother giving her a proper death? Reema sighed, standing from her seat and meandering to the head advisor's still-empty chair.

They all thought she was so naive, didn't they? That she wouldn't be able to spot a difference in meals. The least they could have done was give her a meal she actually liked, but then again, why waste pockets of coin on someone who would be dead within two bites anyways? It would have made sense if the princess weren't so secretly aware.

"I am not sure what rumours you have all heard, but I do so very much like a good roast." Reema reached past the massive cushioned chair and pulled the delicious dish away before setting her asparagus- they didn't even offer her any meat on her plate-down in its stead. "His Grace will not mind if his most honoured guest gets a proper meal, yes?" She took the roast back to her own seat.

Looking left and right again, the princess was delighted to see the astonished faces of the Cabinet. They did nothing- of course they wouldn't when not all of the guards were loyal to their cause. There were perhaps more guards who did support the menacing lords, but- well, who would want to take getting pierced in the heart by the few who didn't? Better to let the leading duke fall than to have five of them gutted.

The doors to the dining hall were opened and in stepped the great duke himself. "Good evening, lords and ladies. Princess, I do hope you were able to find yourself comfortable. The servants informed me of a fall you had in the woods before you came home from your little getaway."

Those hideous spies! Of course they were watching for me. Just how many people within the princess' own castle were working against her in secret?

"A minor inconvenience, Your Grace." Reema watched as the duke crossed to the other side of the table and a servant pulled out his seat. He eyed his plate; the princess had to withhold a smile. "It was only a bruise." Only a bruise from the hand of a traitorous guard gripping her arm as she approached the front gates. Her smile fell into a thin, and controlled, line.

Seeing the devious duke sit where her father once did ripped into her gut and shredded every piece of her, but the anger and cunning outwitted the pain and sorrow she felt. The duke would die and then she would move on to taking the others out- hopefully, assuming they didn't get to her first. The odds of her surviving were seeming less and less likely.

"I did want to thank you for inviting me to this meal, Your Grace. I am...appreciative to have such a gracious and caring Cabinet to step in when...what is lost is lost." When my family has been viciously killed. The gut-wrenching feeling was growing stronger with every word Reema muttered. Maybe it was wrong of her to save her own life. Maybe she should have died with her family.

As the duke examined his plate of traded vegetables, Reema couldn't help but to wonder, Do they know I know of their crimes? They must not have if they thought poisoning her would work. Now, however, the duke eyed her with contempt.

"Shall we eat, Your Grace? The host always dines first." It would have been nice to admit that she felt quite nice having made such a statement, but seeing the way the duke's lower jaw jutted out made her nervous enough to swallow. No one at the rest of the table was objecting as His Grace forked a green stem, though.

The duke cleared his throat and eyed a servant standing nearby. "I believe I asked for the roast along with our guests."

"Perhaps we should just eat," said someone else at the table. Looking, Reema saw a knight- one who was once close with her brother. So, the knight was against killing the royal family at least. The princess would need to talk to him after this meal was over, see if he was willing to help her escape the same fate as her family. He might need saving, too. No one else in the Cabinet spoke up for a reason- it would make one a target.

"My Grace, I apologize, but there is no more roast. It was divided evenly between each guest member, except for the dish of-" The servant was cut off with a quick shush, though many may have called it a hiss.

Lifting the fork to his lips, the duke stared at a wall above everyone's head. Perhaps he was facing Death herself in those moments he bit into the green vegetable. His nose twitched, but the rest of the effects did not take place until minutes later. He coughed, gripping his throat as everyone was digging into their own meals.

Reema did not touch her plate- just in case the rest of the Cabinet had been planning to poison the duke already. It was perhaps paranoid, but when she was sat at a table of people fully willing to kill her family, she would have been dense to assume they would not try their hand at killing each other as well.

When the duke's coughs turned to chokes, the table was dismissed by one of the lords, presumably one who would next try his hand at leading the betraying Cabinet.

Standing from her seat, Reema rushed to her brother's friend, the knight, but both she and he were stopped. Her, by the arm of the lord boy who sat to her right- and the knight, by three separate men. The only reason the lord boy could stop Reema was because his hand laid where her bruise was.

"Let go of me, now."

"I am to escort you to your rooms," the boy said, certainly not letting go, and even going as far as to tighten his grip on her.

Reema, with little thought, shoved him with her free hand, unknowingly gaining the attention of those working to restrain the knight. "Under whose orders? I am your princess- queen." She was the queen now, wasn't she? Not officially, for there had not been a coronation to prestige her, but yes. Reema was Queen now. "You will release me this instant."

A new voice interceded. "No can do, Princess." The lord who dismissed dinner. Reema rolled her eyes, ceasing her small efforts of rebellion and control. "No more adventures into the woods. However you snuck there before, I have not a clue, but I promise you this; it will not be happening again." A breath. "Son, I believe I told you to take her away."

With a quick and high-pitched laugh, the princess shrugged a shoulder- her free one, of course. The lord boy was Sir Big Lord's son, huh? Perfect.

If the lord had been a Lady of the Court, Reema might have used a fist aimed high. Being a lord, though, all she had to do was jut a knee up.

The lord fell to a knee, hands over his groin. The son, in turn, released the princess- as she so pleasantly requested before.

Now, she just had to face the rest of the Cabinet in order to reach the knight. The ladies wouldn't be an issue. They valued their reputable poise and silent seething too much to intervene- especially when they knew the princess was willing to physically fight her new opponents in order to fend for herself. It was the men- the ones with swords on their...a realization dawned on Reema.

Swords and other weapons were taken from Cabinet members when they entered the Great Hall. Those would be outside the great doors. And although Reema's nails were riddled with dirt, they were still long and sharp.

Reema would claw her way to the knight if she had to.