Chapter 17
“Wow, you’re getting really good at this, Orion,” Joshua said as Orion changed a rock into a flower for the third time in a row. He and Orion hadn’t been allowed to leave the palace for months, since the day they snuck out and Orion had been attacked. Joshua had taken their punishment pretty well, but Orion had become moody. They didn’t have studies that day, so they sat in the courtyard under the oak tree, Joshua teaching Orion fysimae.
“Can we move on to something else, Josh?” Orion asked, tossing the flower aside. Flowers reminded him too much of Sandra. He hadn’t seen her since that day in the hospital wing. He didn’t understand why she didn’t come to see him. Perhaps she was thinking the same as he, but he wasn’t allowed to go anywhere. He also didn’t understand why it bothered him so much. She had always seemed more interested in animals than in him. Besides, there were plenty of pretty girls coming and going through the palace, hoping to catch Orion’s eye.
“It’s almost dinnertime,” Rick said, walking over to them. Rick wasn’t that interested in teaching Orion, so he took the time to exercise, getting used to the weighted armbands, before sparring with Orion later. Both Rick and Joshua had ordered a gold set of wristbands and anklets from the jeweler. Rick’s set were inlaid with sapphires and emeralds, while Joshua’s were inlaid with rubies and diamonds. Rick had practiced almost non-stop once the gauntlets had been delivered. He was used to almost as much weight as Orion, but Orion had been increasing the weight of his own gauntlets at the same time.
“Yea, okay,” Orion grunted. He got up and stretched before following his brothers in for dinner. Their mother was already there, and seemed to be in an unusually good mood. The three boys took their seats at the square table, where plates of salad awaited them.
“What’s up, mother?” Joshua asked as he sat down and started eating in earnest, “You seem happier than usual.”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” she said, giggling, “It’s just that your seventeenth birthday is coming up in less that two months.”
“So?” Orion asked, nibbling on a piece of carrot, “What’s the big deal about our birthdays? We’ll just have a small celebration like we did for Ricky’s birthday five months ago.”
“Don’t you see, Orion?” she asked, glancing at him, “this will be the first year you two will be able to celebrate your birthdays together. We’ve got a lot of planning to do. Will we have two cakes, or one big one? Oh, this is so exciting!” she said, more to herself than her sons. Her excitement of having a joined birthday celebration seeped over to the twins. Orion’s anticipation grew as he realized that he wasn’t going to suffer through one of his father’s boring balls. His father had always had a ball organized for Orion’s birthday, and didn’t care if Orion enjoyed it or not. He began to wonder what kind of celebration his mother was thinking of. Whatever it was, Orion was sure that is wasn’t a stupid ball, and that it would be much bigger than Rick’s birthday celebration.
“Dinner is served!” a chef walked in and announced the beginning of dinner. A waiter gathered up the used salad plates as four other waiters pushed food carts around and set large, covered trays in front of the boys and their mother. Yet another waiter circled the table, pouring the drink. Steam wafted up as the tray covers were removed. A strange, new smell reached his nostrils as Orion breathed the scent of roast pheasant deeply, his hand blindly searching for the right utensils. Must be a new sauce, Orion thought as he cut a large chunk of meat.
Just then, another chef, still dressed in his stained work clothes, barged in, grabbed a tray cover from one of the food carts that had been pushed up against the wall, and ran over to Orion.
“No!” he cried as he slammed the cover on top of Orion’s plate, spraying sauce and knocking over Orion’s cup, fruit punch spilling everywhere. The cover just barely missed Orion’s hand, and he dropped his fork in surprise. “You mustn’t eat that!” the chef shrieked, pushing Orion away and toppling his chair. Orion hit the floor, bumping his head.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Empress Anita stood up and glared at the dirty chef. Orion rolled out of the up ended chair and got up, rubbing the back of his aching head. Both Rick and Joshua had stopped eating and were staring at the chef.
“Ohh,” Orion moaned, one hand on his head and the other trying to wipe the fruit punch off of his clothes. “What’s going on? Why’d you knock me down?”
“I beg your pardon, majesties,” the panicked chef let go of the tray cover and took a deep breath, “but the food was poisoned. It was poisoned!” He started to cry.
“What? You mean all our food is poisoned?” Joshua asked, alarmed. He had already taken a few bites.
“No,” the chef said, out of breath, “Just Prince Orion’s plate. You see,” he took another deep breath, “down in the kitchen, each dish was tasted by your food testers just before it was brought up. There’s a different food tester for each tray. About five minutes after the carts were taken out of the kitchen, Prince Orion’s food tester began having convulsions,” he sniffled, tears spilling over his face. He sniffled again, wiped his eyes, and took a deep breath before continuing, “and he died! He died right there, in front of me, on the kitchen floor! I can’t-,” he began crying to hard to speak. He sank to his knees and covered his face with his hands. A moment later he wiped his face and continued, “I had to hurry. Ran up the stairs. Had to hurry before the Prince-,” he fell to crying again. Orion went numb with shock.
That must have been the new smell, he thought, I could have been killed! He looked up at his mother. She was staring at him. Joshua just stared at his food while Rick knelt beside the distraught chef, trying to comfort him. The waiters came over, two righted Orion’s chair while a third tried to ease a paralyzed Orion into his seat. The others brought a food cart over and hastily removed the poisoned tray and cleaned up the mess.
“We’ll bring up another tray for Prince Orion,” one of the waiters said as he loaded the poisoned food onto the cart. Nobody seemed to hear him. The two waiters that righted Orion’s chair were now kneeling next to the weeping chef, trying to comfort him. They managed to bring him to his feet and lead him away. Rick got up and sat back down in his own chair.
“Is he going to be alright?” Empress Anita called as the waiters lead the chef to the door.
“He will be fine,” one of them said, turning to bow to her before disappearing out into the hall. As she sat back down, she glanced at all three of her boys. Orion kept staring at where his plate had been, perhaps seeing what would have happened if the chef hadn’t come when he did, in his mind. Empress Anita shuddered to think of that possibility. Her gaze swept over to Joshua, who was breathing deeply and staring at Orion, too shocked to continue eating. She didn’t blame him. She had lost her appetite, too.
Rick, on the other hand, looked rather sullen when Empress Anita glanced his way. He was staring at his food, stirring the creamed corn into the mashed potatoes with his fork. He didn’t seem to want to eat, either, but more out of indignation than shock. She could understand his feelings, too. She was angry that someone had snuck into the palace and poisoned Orion’s food. Or maybe it was one of the cooks or waiters who poisoned it, she thought, panicky. If that was the case, then she would have to see to the long and grueling task of finding the traitor before he or she struck again. She sighed.