Six: Sincerely, Matilda 

The next morning, Everett found himself back in the throne room. Back before the King, Adelaide, and this time, Sir Henry. The three of them looked most displeased with him, but Everett did not feel embarrassed. This time, his reaction was warranted. He would not let a grown, egotistical man belittle him with rudimentary dinner rules. He was not a child, no matter how much his father treated him like one.  

The King rose to his feet, but Adelaide gestures that he should sit back down; to which he does. She stands instead, hovering a hand underneath her belly. She looked much bigger than the last time Everett had really paid attention to her. She must be due to give birth in the upcoming month, if not the next couple of weeks.  

“Sir Henry has informed us of your behavior towards him and his attempts to reform your ill manners. Do you understand the display of disrespect you have outrightly shown? Do you understand the importance of your role as a prince and the importance of acting like one?”  

When Everett does not answer, Adelaide grows impatient. 

“Do you understand, Everett?!” Her voice raises.  

The prince flinches at her tone. He feels himself start to curl back up, arms and hands drawn inward to his chest. He could handle being yelled at by Sir Henry, but it was different when he was in front of his father. Because even if his father did not like him and he did not much like his father either, something deep down inside of Everett still wished to please him. It was something born to him, something instinctual. Something he feared he would never be able to rid himself of.  

“Yes.” He says, voice quiet.  

“Speak up when you talk to me!” She demands.  

“Yes.” Everett says louder, and Adelaide lets out a disbelieving grunt. She turns to the King, and they share a few hushed words before the King rises again too. His face is taut and narrowed, angry and relenting.  

“Since you cannot learn your lesson, we have decided that you are no longer allowed to visit the gardens nor come downstairs. You will remain in your room, which will be kept locked at all times. If you so much as step foot outside your door, I will personally see you to the dungeons. Do you understand, son?” 

He gives Everett no time to answer, but the panic written all over the prince’s face makes Adelaide crack a smile. Her wretched voice cracks the cold air like a whip. 

“You will not embarrass nor disrespect this family ever again.”  

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ 

The prince’s room was not so bad in normal circumstances. Everett actually liked to spend most of his time in it, preferring to avoid the harsh gazes of the devout guards of the King. The men who lined the halls, ready to follow his every move so that the unfavorable heir did not cause trouble. Because that was all his father preached: beware the wrong-blooded prince. He is but a stain to this kingdom.  

Once, Eda had held her palms over his ears when his father was shouting at him from the other side of the door to his room. And though she gave her best efforts, Everett could hear him clearly.  

“You look just as she did!” He screamed, the door shaking. Everett, only ten at the time, flinched back into the arms of Eda, who flinched in tandem with him. “Each and every day, I am reminded of the wife you murdered! If only you had died in her place!”  

So, with nights like that, his locked bedroom door became a thing that brought him peace, tranquility. As long as he stayed in his room with the door locked, his father’s words could not impale him.  

But it had been a week since his father had locked him in his room from the outside, and Everett was starting to go mad. Twice a day, Eda slid a bland tray of food beneath the door through a little slit in the wood. It was previously used for audience requests and notes, but now it was only an aid to his punishment. 

The prince could hardly catch any sleep now, rolling violently atop his linen sheets, throwing them off the bed when he got too hot. With the window boarded up tight and impenetrable, the air grew hot within the chambers easily. There was no cooling system. The nights offered him some comfort, as Springs in Seles bore hot days and longer, colder nights. This was not a complete solution, as during the day the prince still felt the effects of the blistering sun.  

This morning in particular, Everett decided to protest. When Eda slid the food beneath the door, Everett slid it right back.  

Eda lets out a little, shocked gasp.  

“Are you not hungry, Prince?”  

“No.” He slumps against the wall, drawing his knees up to his chest and holding them tight. “I have lost my appetite. Permanently.”  

Eda is silent for a while before she seems to accept defeat.  

“Well alright, but you must eat dinner when the time comes.” Everett hears faint shuffling and jolts when a small letter is shoved through the hole in the door. “A letter for you.”  

“Who from?” Everett asks, holding up the envelope to his eyes and marveling at his name written in perfect cursive across the front.  

“Lady Matilda.”  

Eda stalks away after, and Everett wastes no time in ripping open the letter. What could Matilda have to say to him now, when her tattling had resulted in this mess? Whatever it was, he did not wish to hear it, but his curiosity got the better of him. A trait true and unbreakable to Everett. Curiosity swirled within his very bones, in his blood, in the pupils of his eyes.  

“Dear Prince Everett of Seles and promised heir to the Great King,” Everett reads quietly to himself, scoffing at the obnoxious title. She knew him well enough to just write his first name. The rest seemed unnecessary to him.  

“I do hope this letter finds you well. My own father has informed me that the King has heard of our potential arrangement. He has also heard that I was displeased with our first meeting. I spoke with my father about it, and he went straight to the Royal Court with it. From what I know, he told them you were offensive, unruly, and disrespectful to me during the dinner.”  

Everett clicks his tongue in annoyance.  

“All of which are not true, and I apologize if this has disrupted your daily life in any way. I have spoken with my father, and he agreed to talk again with the King in hopes of lessening your punishment. Please understand that this was a miscommunication, and I am, once again, deeply sorry. Sincerely, Lady Matila.”  

“Why did she not get an obnoxious title?” Everett bites his lip, throwing the letter to the side. It falls to the floor forgotten, and Everett hops to his feet. He is unsure if he believes her entirely. To him, he feels that it is likely she over-exaggerated to her father and felt the guilt after hearing of what the King had done in retaliation. 

Everett stretches his arms over his head, letting out a deep yawn. During this arduous process, he catches movement in his peripheral. Turning, his eyes land on the window. At the very edge of the windowsill, the yellow butterfly from the gardens sat. Its wings fluttered open and shut slow, antennae twitching with each movement Everett made.  

“Lily?” He mumbles, looking around for a hole in the wall, something the butterfly could have gotten through. It’s then he remembers the bizarre encounter he had with Floryn. The man had turned to bugs before his very eyes, easily slipping between the wood boards and disappearing. How had that slipped his mind? 

Nearing Lily, he drops to his knees and offers his pointer finger to the bug. She flies to him, landing gracefully atop his skin. Everett gets a close look at her, inspecting her for anything odd. But, to his displeasure, the bug looks like a regular old bug.  

“Are you one of those things?” He whispers, unsure of what it was he was even asking, and Lily startles away from his breath. She squeezes right through the boards, and Everett curses beneath his exhale. He needed to know, now. What was Floryn? And was every bug just a piece of a human? His mind was swirling with confusion, and as that feeling took an overwhelming hold over his brain, he pushed his palm flat onto the board. This one had been the one to move just enough to allow sunlight in.  

Without fearing the fall, Everett shoves his whole body into the boards, over and over, until he flung right out.