Chapter 6
The few people she passed on the way back to her room gave Una a wide berth. She had no noble title, no social status other than being the daughter of one of the Royal Flourier. But the look on her face must have far surpassed any deference that a title would have given her.
And she didn't care.
The only thing on her mind was getting back to the safety and solitude of the small set of rooms she shared with her father near the palace bakehouse.
She needed to be in a place where she could tear off the heavy, restricting dress that was tugging uncomfortably at every spot where it made contact with her increasingly inflamed skin.
The moment the door was closed behind her, she rang the bell to request an attendant then tugged at the laces behind her back. She did not have the privilege of a dedicated lady's maid, but her father's title afforded them the luxury of palace scullery staff.
It took several minutes for someone to respond to her bell, and by the time a quick rap sounded on her door, she had mostly finished the laborious task of loosening the criss-crossed ties that held the back of her dress in place.
"You rang?" the young maid asked, stepping into the room.
"Yes," Una said, shrugging her shoulders free of the dress. "Could you draw a cold bath?"
The maid nodded and disappeared.
Una was grateful that at least her room had a private bath chamber. She hated the red rash that frequently broke out over her skin. It was appearing even now. She could see the round marks growing up her wrist, and feel them on her collarbone and hip.
She’d suffered from them for years, watching them come and go with little rhyme or reason.
The palace physicians had never been able to identify their cause. Perhaps it is gout, they said. Eat simpler foods. Bathe in cool water with calming herbal compounds.
So she did.
And perhaps they were right, because the red rash only visited after she ate the sweet, rich, and decadent foods that Lamera was so proud of.
But therein lay the problem.
Her father's entire livelihood—the very pride of the kingdom itself—was in the towering creations of the codex.
Flouriers and cooks alike travelled to Lamera from every kingdom to exchange gold for knowledge.
Even the infuriating young man who had just earned the title of King's Apprentice had the distinctive accent of Kanask to the west.
And here she was, the prized jewel of the king's court, the daughter of the most respected flourier in the world, who could not eat a single bite of her own father's creations without breaking out into a hideous rash.
Wrapping herself in a soft chamber robe, she waited for the maid to finish filling the bath.
She did not want anyone to see her like this.
She could hardly bear to look at the strange marks herself.
She knew the path they would take, growing and changing across her body throughout the night to finally dull into the pinkish, puffy spots that would fade throughout the following day.
At least they would be easier to cover in the morning. Unless the warm spring day took an oppressively hot turn and made her longer sleeved dresses unbearable. But that was a problem she would have to solve in the morning.
She had even stopped telling her own father how bad the reaction was. He was aware, of course, but he was also rarely ever in their rooms. It was easier to say nothing than to worry him.