While performing and making herself disappear, she never watched herself in the mirror, but her eyes were scanning each person in the crowd to create that illusion and engrave it deep in their minds.
“Hello!”
Riley turned around.
“This is Timothy Garr.” A middle-aged man shook her hand. He had the same white hair as Rufus but added a light beard. He was wearing a purple suit and a large hat. His hair turned him into medusa as it swung with the light breeze of the air conditioner, bright white and green as the Royal Garden. His lips were smudged with bright blue lipstick. His eyes were those of a cat, yellow with a large black circle for irises.
“Riley Red.” She lightly touched his hand then immediately removed it. “And you are?”
“The new ringmaster!” He laughed heartily. “I am truly excited to be working with you.”
“The new ringmaster?” she repeated as the words ran through her head like tiny leprechauns singing a song of horror.
“I hope this doesn’t bother you.” His demeanour changed from friendly to defensive.
Her eyes were about to tear out of their sockets as she stomped her way to Mathew again.
“Matt.” Her voice came out in a tone of panic.
“I’ve already tried to get this idiot off the job. No one’s answering me,” he immediately told her then focused on the script again.
Riley sighed.
“This is ridiculous.”
“Look, Riles.” He held her hand gently. “The king already gave us his consent to honour Rufus in the graveyard. If we keep asking for more, he’ll eventually turn against us.”
“We’re the stars of the show. They can’t kick us out,” Riley argued, even though she knew it was not only because they were Cirque Et Feu. It was because there were so many things left unsaid with Jonathan.
“For all I know, they can clone us and let the robots perform. Just go by the script.”
Riley rolled her eyes and turned around to leave the room for a while. Una was standing by the door with a beautiful shiny red jumpsuit.
“Is this what I should wear? I already have my original outfit,” she told Una as soon as she reached her.
“I’m afraid so, Miss Riley.” Una smoothened the expensive fabric. “But this is not all of it. It is a beautiful costume, I promise!”
Riley took the outfit in her hands. There were silver and golden threads all over the wine red see-through fabric. It revealed everything except her chest and lower area. Golden lingerie attached to it on the inside hugged her curves perfectly.
“Where is the rest?”
“In the fitting room. May you come with me?”
They walked to the locker room. Fay was inside, strolling around in her underwear.
After a few moments of silence, Fay shrugged.
“Princess Océane is coming for the crowning.”
“Who?”
“Come on. Have you been living under a rock? It’s the king’s cousin. The media made her very famous. Especially after she was caught—”
“I remember her. She’s a blond.”
“Yeah, that’s her. She keeps nagging about being famous and that brat is living the life.”
“Nobody’s ever satisfied.” Riley sighed. She remembered Keith mentioning something about the king’s cousin coming for a visit.
“They’re shooting all of our performances today?” Fay frowned and slid inside her swimsuit. It was dark green with what looked like lace serpents crawling over her skin.
“I have no clue. But everybody is here.”
Fay wanted to make a quick sharp reply, but she decided against it. She kept silently wearing her clothes. Riley noted the tear stuck in her eye. The girl acted like a stonehearted bitch sometimes, but Rufus’s death affected her greatly.
“Come on, let’s change,” Una reminded her and led her to another small room.
Riley let the jumpsuit embrace her tightly. Her hair was instantly fixed under the control of the hairmotoring 6.0. The machine played with her hair as if it were an actual human hairdresser, and let it flow smoothly over her shoulder in loose waves.
“Look what I chose for you,” Una said proudly.
It was the skirt of the dress, wide, golden, and as long as it could get.
“It’s beautiful.” Riley touched the fabric… and how smooth yet rough at the right places it was.
“I chose it myself.” Una smiled coyly.
“You definitely know how I work.”
“Well…” She looked down. “I am terribly sorry I lied. It wasn’t me who chose it. It was our new fashion program. It studied every performance you made, the theme, your outfit, your personality… And accordingly, it chose the clothes you are to wear.”
“Una…” Riley began, but the girl cut her off.
“I’m so sorry.” She started to panic. “I did not mean to lie to you I just—”
“I don’t care who chose my outfit. I just love it. Calm down.” She gently smiled at her.
“It won’t happen again. I promise.”
“Alright, now put the skirt around me.”
The performance took them all day. The team was practicing the script written for them. It was going to be an amazing one, but it lacked the sense of Cirque Et Feu. It was more magical and illusionary than edgy. Cirque Et Feu always relied on the gentle shock effect in its performances. In this one, everything was moving gently like a dream, that the audience wouldn’t even notice the start from the end, lost in a daze of bewilderment.
The group, apparently called Behind-the-Screens Crew, kept sitting there until the practice was over. They did not eat. They did not move. They did not speak. They only stared ahead at the filming cameras and kept rocking their eyes back and forth.
None of her teammates said anything. They all practiced their scripts and acted them out robotically. Riley looked around for a sign of Jonathan, but he did not show up all day.
On his way back to his chamber, longing for a hot bath and a good night’s sleep, Mathew chewed on the creamy biscuits offered back at Ward IV. Marcus walked right past him, finding his way to his own chamber.
“Yo, Marcus,” Mathew called after him.
“Yeah?” Marcus turned around.
“What’s up?”
“What’s up?” Marcus frowned and looked puzzled. He just saw him a few moments earlier.
Everyone noticed Marcus’s pale face. He did not talk to anyone, barely to his wife, and his performance was silenced by the loud music.
“Marcus, is everything alright?”
“Yes, why do you keep asking?” He suddenly looked annoyed.
“I know something’s not right.”
“Of course, it’s not. Rufus is gone. Who knows where we’re heading from now on?” Marcus’s voice was rising.
Mathew took a step back.
“This is not about Rufus. Is Charlotte okay?”
“Bite me,” he spat and turned to leave. Mathew tried to call after him, but it was all left unheard.
Two weeks had passed. The preparations for the performance exhausted the performers, main and secondary. Every day, they got up at five in the morning and went to bed at midnight. Sometimes, they took pills instead of food to avoid wasting time. Breaks were so short, they barely had time to take a sip of coffee and stay awake. One time, Flore fainted and she had to be rushed to the clinic in Ward I, until they injected her with the right dosage of supplements.
Riley was hoping to see Jonathan any time soon, but the only time she was able to converse with him was when they met up in the hallways at night, and he was urged to the conference room. He looked exhausted. Charles Arnold made sure she was nowhere near the king until practices were over, and even then, Jonathan was either outside the castle or locked in his office to finish matters before his crowning. That was the only explanation Riley could come up with.
The day had come when all activities were stopped once again. Noteram was in a state of celebration after two w
eeks of wearing black. They were finally going to have a king rule over them, the righteous king for the throne.
The day had come for the crowning of Jonathan Freedian.
Chapter 24
Civilus Square was flaunted with crowds from all over Regitum. The streets were glowing with a golden colour against the glimmering sun. The weather had been extremely cold in the past few weeks; however, on the day of the crowning, everyone was surprised by the warmth of soft wind and the aroma of the roses spread on the streets.
Marilyn and Flore wore their white long-sleeved dresses. Petals of daisies, pinned on their V-neck, waved steadily as designed by the castle’s designer. Fay’s eyes looked larger with her winged liner. She did not refrain from showing her curves through a fuchsia maxi dress and her fierceness with a checkered choker around her long neck, that had its black and white squares switching colours every two seconds. Charlotte wore a burgundy jumpsuit that shifted to yellow in the sun. She pulled her golden hair up into a tight bun. Marcus marched beside her. Riley wore a long lilac lace dress. It was open from one side up to her thigh. She wore her hair down, longer than it was when she first arrived to the castle. On one side, a purple butterfly held it up and swung its wings graciously.
The men were all in night blue suits and a red bowtie. It was the official dress code for Regitan men, if they were going to a royal event.
They all gathered around in the square, but there was scarcely any cheerful talking.
The statue of the king stood majestically in the middle, where a silver podium was waiting to be occupied.
“I really need this day to be over. It’s the only one where I get to sleep a bit earlier than usual.” Mathew strode next to Riley, hands in his pocket.
“What is sleep, really? It’s a strange word.” She smiled and let the sun caress her pale skin.
Mathew chuckled. “I tried to get some sleep last night, and it was really hot. So I opened the window to breathe and I couldn’t sleep because of Charlotte.”
“What?!” Riley broke into a hearty laugh.
“I don’t know what the hell she was doing with Marcus but seriously, I still shudder.”
“Urgh.” She stuck her tongue out in disgust. “He’s been distant lately, don’t you think?”
“Distant from us, yeah… A lot. But he seemed pretty intimate with Char.”
“Okay.” Riley laughed again. “Stop talking about that. I’m serious. What’s wrong with him? He barely said a word to us for the past two weeks.”
“I tried to speak to him but he was pretty defensive, so I backed away.”
“Wonder what he’s going through…”
“You know, sometimes men need their space. This whole PMS thing with women… men have that but occasionally. Marcus seems to be experiencing the extended version.”
“Awh! You’re the worst.” She nudged his shoulder.
“I miss the sun,” he said after a moment of silence.
As they settled in a corner where fancy tables and chairs were set, next to a small coffee shop, Riley could not help but scan the place. It had been two weeks and neither Gabriel nor the queen tried to contact her. She was starting to lose hope in finding them. It was impossible to wander outside the castle and look for the Phoenix camp again. Lord Walter was on her nose constantly.
It was too dangerous to flee on that particular day; the guards were swarming the streets. Even though Lord Walter was busy with the king, he could show up any minute.
Gabriel had promised to contact her again, and she was holding on to that promise.
Horns resonated in the streets, and strong red lights illuminated the empty space around the King’s statue. It was time for the Assembly to present their speeches. The marching band surrounded the statue and began singing and playing the National Anthem of Regitum. The people were chanting with them, happy to get out of the mourning period, and careless for they knew Regitum wouldn’t change even with Jonathan.
Every member of the Assembly was speaking greatly of the new king. They were full of hope and respect towards Jonathan who had been among them for a long time. Or, as Riley put it, they were full of shit.
“Please, just look at General Portland. He is about to fall asleep in the back.” Riley was laughing and so was Mathew.
“You can actually see the cavities in his teeth from here.”
“Do you think if I throw my shoe, the heel will come right inside his mouth?”
“I’ll give you two hundred dollars if you can.”
“I can make five hundred times more than that in one night.” Riley looked at him in the corner of her eye waiting for him to judge her, but he kept laughing.
“Hey, I never got the chance to actually pay you for some services.”
Riley faked a hurt expression.
“Do you take me for a tart, Mr. Covington?”
“Hey! I’d take illusion over nothing!”
Riley shook her head smiling. Charles Arnold was now speaking. Riley suddenly felt disgust rising up her throat.
“I hate this man.”
“Man is too much for assholes like him.” Mathew sipped on his coffee and scanned the menu. “Hey, do you want an apple pie?”
“Chocolate chip cookies; old but gold.”
“Who eats those nowadays?”
“I do! Old recipe, but if the baker knows how to do it with just the right temperature, it is heaven melting in your mouth.”
Suddenly, everyone went silent. The lights beside the podium turned into neon blue. Riley stood up to take a better look. Mathew frowned at her excitement once Jonathan appeared.
“My good people,”—the king did not even have a reference paper to look at; he was intently staring at each person in the crowd—“the day has come when I shall take care of you. My father left behind him a great legacy that I intend to keep alive and breathing. A legacy of a nation that shall never perish.
“You are this nation. You are the kingdom. The East could not have gained its freedom back if it weren’t for your brave men and women. I am merely a bridge between the East and the rest.
“I promise Civilus and every nation in Regitum that no cry shall be heard. Peace shall always be our motto, and justice shall forever be our middle ground.
“Remember, my good people, that the lion will roar, the eagles will soar, and the Regitan flag will forever rise high up the eastern skies, until no weapon could bring it down.”
A thunder of claps shook the square. Screams of envious women and cheers of joyous men killed the huffs of the awakened people among them. Sister Veronica Savio, head of the Free Services in the Labour’s League, walked towards Jonathan with the book of pledges, opened the page of “King Crowning” in the middle and knelt before her king.
Jonathan touched the book and closed his eyes.
“I, Jonathan Chris Freedian, of pure Freedian blood, son of Christopher Freedian, hereby announce my pledge to be a righteous king as the true heir of the eastern throne, ruler and protector of Regitum, head of the eastern body and its four members: Noteram, Silvarest, Opesam, and Messis.”
The members of the assembly rose their hands to the front towards the people and announced together. “May his ruling be just, his endeavours wise, and his love and loyalty for Regitum, Noteram, and the East, undying.”
Riley clapped her hands together. She wanted to stop herself but unwillingly kept going. The glow in her eyes sparkled at the sight of the golden crown of leaves and spears being placed on Jonathan’s head. Her mind was telling her that he was not the king for the throne, but her heart was beating loudly, and her eyes could forever stare at that mesmerising sight.
“Riles?” Mathew frowned. He wasn’t watching the crowning. He was simply eating his apple pie that seemed to have arrived minutes ago.
Riley blinked several times and focused on who was behind the sister and Jonathan. Those were the same people who were sitting behind the screens during their practice. Tricksters.
She was breath
ing fast and sat down immediately.
“Let me have a taste of that pie.” She dipped her finger inside the bowl and licked it. “Mm, not bad. But of course, not as good as the biscuits.”
The chocolate chip cookies were already on her table.
“I didn’t know you were that supportive of Jonathan.”
“I’m not.” She kept staring at her plate.
Mathew was silent for a moment then widened his eyes. He was sure of this now.
“Oh my God, don’t tell me there are…” He lowered his voice until she was the only one who could hear him. “Don’t tell me there are… you know… on stage.”
Riley looked up at him and nodded. “You did not watch,” she whispered. “That’s why you were not affected. Now, I’m sure even I could be influenced.”
“This is awful.” He dropped his spoon suddenly losing his appetite.
“Actually, it is not.” She smiled. “This’ll make everything so much easier.”
Giant lithe belly dancers, bathed in bronze, rose beside the main entrance of the ballroom. They held two golden bowls, usually used for wine, gracefully in their hands. White steam descended from the bowls onto the glossy ground, curtaining the sweaty dancing Elites inside. They were gifts from the East’s west side’s incredibly rich princes who owed Noteram that much after the war. The steam washed over Riley as she entered. There were garments falling from the ceiling, picture frames oozing out pure water to be drunk from the detailed painted lake. Bejewelled glasses of wine appeared on the touch screen against the wall. The invitees simply pressed against the one they desired and it spiralled down from the ceiling on a diamond plate. The edgy music came from behind those walls, where musicians were seated in a surrounding room, playing the rockiest sounds that it was impossible not to move. Riley ordered a black glass of red wine and started sipping on it the moment it reached her hands.
In celebration of the King’s coronation, there were the performers who assisted them in the filming, jumping from one trapeze to the other on the high ceiling.
Some time back, innovators tried to replace human musicians by electronic development of musical sounds to songs and melodies in order to avoid plagiarism. However, no matter how hard everyone struggled to make that invention work, no sound was created like the ones by the original founders and their pure line of talented musicians. Dancers couldn’t find jobs, for everyone highlighted the importance of technology and working for the future that art was starting to fade. But the world was becoming more and more dull that humans were on the verge of collapsing and suddenly art revived again with the Art Movement of Free Will. It was true enough that the government was now supervising everything, but what mattered to Riley was that deep down, in every note played, in every string caressed by the hairs of the bow, with every gentle or rebellious move, with every stroke of a brush on a thirsty canvas, with carving against stones, art was somehow rebelling against the rules of society through the silence that was to turn into endless screams of change.
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