CHAPTER SEVEN
Donya had directed me to a walnut chair at the head of the table and instructed me to remain seated and speak as little as possible.
A dozen people filed into the room. Each one bowed or curtsied before my chair and introduced themselves. I was never going to remember all of them. I smiled and nodded. Then I remembered to frown instead and nod.
An elderly man in white robes only slightly inclined his head at me. I assumed he must be important enough to give me the greeting of an equal. Or maybe he just hated me, judging from how he glared.
“Your turn,” he said coldly.
I realized I was supposed to incline my head in return. “Oh, I’m sorry!” As I did, he coughed. “Are you feeling unwell?” I asked.
He glared even harder. “The dungeon proved cold for my lungs.”
The dungeon … wait … this must be Head Cardinal Augustin! “I’m so sorry!” I cried.
In the corner, Donya buried her face in her hands. It just slipped out. I didn’t even mean to apologize for throwing him in there since I hadn’t done that—it was only a sorry-something-bad-happened-to-you. The cardinal raised his eyebrow very slightly, then turned and walked to his seat.
By the time everyone was seated, my throat felt dry and sweat dripped down my forehead. I picked up the small golden cup in front of me and drank from it. The beverage was so small, I downed it in one gulp. Hopefully, this wouldn’t be all the water we’d get with lunch.
Everyone stared. Donya pinched her forehead.
“Isn’t that the water for washing our hands?” a noblewoman in a blue dress whispered. She sounded like she was genuinely doubting herself, but as soon as I saw the white towel lying next to the cup, I knew she’d been right. I wanted to sink into the polished wooden floor.
Donya jumped in before I had a chance to respond.
“I know that looks a lot like the Arahasnor washing cup, but it’s actually a Sherdan toast cup.
Just look at the little line of diamonds around the top of the cup—that’s the giveaway.
Everyone, let’s drink a toast to the health of our new lady regent.
” She picked up her cup and drained it. Under Donya’s aggressive glare, everyone else drank as well.
I wanted to cry. Thank goodness Donya had saved my heinie. How many other such mistakes would I make?
Several maids brought in the real water in crystal glasses. Next came glasses of red wine. Then a celery soup with a hot bun.
This time, I was determined to wait for someone else to eat so I could watch what they did. No one made a move toward the soup. Instead, everyone gazed at me with hungry eyes.
Donya clapped her hands. “It’s the honor of the duchess regent, the highest-ranked person, to begin the meal.”
Sweet Sun God. I had to go first. And everyone was staring at me.
I reached for a piece of bread to dip into my soup. Donya shook her head frantically.
Right, nobility probably didn’t do that. I reached for the spoon.
Donya shook her head even harder. She touched a different spoon at the top of the plate.
It mattered which utensil I used? Why did we even need more than one spoon? I picked up the spoon from the top, dipped it in the soup, and took a sip.
The slurp sounded worryingly loud in the silent room. Hopefully no one noticed, because immediately they all went for their own meals. I ate slowly, scared of doing something wrong or spilling on my expensive clothes. Everyone around me drank their soup so elegantly and took small bites of bread.
The man on my right turned to me. “What do you think of the plans to add additional guards to the city walls?”
“A great idea,” I said. After all, I’d been able to sneak out pretty easily, which didn’t bode well for our security. “We should pay the guards more, too.” Then hopefully they’d be less susceptible to bribes.
From the other end of the table, a woman cried, “You already want to raise taxes to pay off our debt! Now you want to spend even more on guards? There’s barely any purpose for them since we made peace with Conollia. We should be laying off half of them.”
“Oh,” I said, shrinking down in my seat. “Maybe not, then.”
Questions flew at me fast and furious. “Will you negotiate with Sherda to lower their tariffs on our turnips?”
“What’s your response to the Head Cardinal’s demand to limit the number of chickens in the same coop under the prevention of cruelty to animals law?”
“Should we dismantle the stadium from the last World Games or use it for entertainment?”
“How do you plan to pay off the debt from hosting the World Games?”
“Is it true that we’re in debt to the Dragon Emperor? You know how terrifying dragons can be about debts …”
“What is your reply to the latest protest march by the Construction Guild demanding their unpaid wages?”
“Do you think redleaf should be legal?”
I blurted out, “Red leaves are illegal? Whatever do you do in autumn? Arrest all the trees?”
Everyone was staring again. I hated that.
Donya laughed loudly. “What a funny joke! Such a clever way to avoid the controversial subject of drug legality, which surely should be saved for a more formal occasion than lunch.”
I sank down farther in my seat. I’d barely even understood their questions. Unfortunately, I understood the part where a dragon might eat me. I wanted to go home.
The next course was beef brisket. The giggling of two maids drew my attention. I looked over in time to see one of them spit into a plate.
I jerked my eyes away as if I’d been the one to do something wrong. The maid placed the spittle-tainted food in front of me.
A delicious smell rose off the beef, but I didn’t take a bite. I suddenly regretted consuming that soup. Given how much everyone in this city hated me, it wouldn’t surprise me if it had been poisoned. At the least, I bet someone had spit in it, too. I felt sick.
Donya frantically gestured at the fork I should use.
She didn’t understand the real reason I wasn’t eating.
I tried to smile at her, even though I felt terrible.
I knew it wasn’t me who everyone hated …
but it still felt awful. I pushed around the food on my plate, trying to make it look like I’d taken a bite.
At least that was enough to convince everyone else to eat.
The young lady sitting next to Donya asked, “Has Sherda been discussing the team lineup for the next World Games?” From her smile, she was attempting to do as Donya requested and switch from politics to small talk.
Unfortunately, this was still a blank to me.
I didn’t know the name of a single Sherdan Gifted Knight.
“Nice attempt to trick me into revealing vital political secrets.” I tapped my nose. “I’m not going to squeal like a swine mouth.”
“A what mouth?” She peered at me from behind her fan. “Are those Sherdan words?”
“Yes?” I snuck a glance at Donya.
“Who wants to talk about religion?” Donya asked in desperation.
The subsequent bloodbath fortunately distracted everyone from me.
“That could have gone better,” Donya said as we walked back to my room. “Head Cardinal Augustin thinks I have you under mind control. But he wasn’t upset about it—he thought it was a great idea. He promised me sanctuary if I got caught.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“No, no! I’m the one who should be apologizing to you.” Donya sighed. “Ysabel always … um, I should have realized that you would require more preparation before appearing in public.”
No doubt she’d been about to say that my older sister always had impeccable noble manners. But Ysabel had been taken in by the Church at a young age. We’d had very different upbringings.
“It’s not your fault,” I mumbled. “I should have told you that I couldn’t do it.” I just hadn’t wanted to disappoint Donya by whining too strongly.
“You can’t avoid attending the coronation this afternoon. I’ll try to run interference to keep anyone from talking to you. It’s just, I’ll be so busy with other things during the ceremony … If only I had time to find someone to accompany you.”
“I wanted Araceli to come and protect me from the rest of the Twelve Avengers, remember?”
“And she already knows about the masquerade! Perfect!” Donya smiled. “She’ll need a disguise or everyone will wonder why you brought your personal maid as an escort. I’ll go talk to her.”
Donya left me alone in my bedroom. I sat on my bed and tried not to cry. My dress felt itchy and the gemstones were poking my legs even through all the petticoats. How did the duchess wear this awful thing all day? I felt scared to move for fear a boob might pop out.
When someone knocked on the door, I sprang to my feet. “Give me a moment,” I called. My voice sounded embarrassingly close to tears.
Instead of Araceli, a young male voice called, “This is a delivery for Her Grace. From Falael.”
By the time I rubbed my eyes and opened the door, I found a bouquet of roses lying on the ground. I groaned. Would I have to put up with my ex for my entire stay in this unwanted body?
Rounding the corner, Araceli looked at the bouquet. “The page left them on the floor and ran? I don’t blame him. Last time the duchess was fighting with Falael, she threw his gifts and sometimes heavier items at the poor people who had to deliver them.”
“I’ll feed Falael these roses, thorns and all,” I hissed.
At Araceli’s look of surprise, I explained, “He’s my ex.
Me in my original body, I mean. He stole a bunch of money from me, then set me up to die by flirting with me in front of his jealous, bloodthirsty lover.
” I didn’t know why I told her. Perhaps I wanted to get it off my chest to someone.
“I can’t stand having him around me constantly. I will scream, I swear it.”