Chapter 6
six
Nesrina develops a routine.
Nesrina didn’t expect the duke to stay after he showed her to her room, but something about the way he fled left her frustrated, like she’d done something wrong.
Maybe she shouldn’t have said he was too skinny.
She could’ve softened the blow by telling him he was handsome.
That wouldn’t have been a lie—only horribly inappropriate.
As it was, her comments were completely out of line given her status, but the queen was paying her, so she supposed she could get away with it.
Ah, well. Who cared if the duke was testy and moody and didn’t like her one bit? She didn’t work for him, she worked for the king and queen, for the prince and princess.
Dropping her bag, Nes looked up, and her lips parted as she took in the room before her. It was gorgeous, awash in greens, browns, and blues. The walls were papered in a leafy print, and the ceiling was a pale blue that evoked the sky. The Tarisden Suite, the forest suite, of course.
She’d expected Stormhill to be drab and dreary based on its name, but that didn’t seem to be the case at all.
Her room boasted a massive central bed, canopied with green drapes, a writing desk loaded with supplies, and a lovely sitting area by the gorgeous, mullioned windows.
There was even a bookshelf, a floor-to-ceiling extravagance, full to bursting.
Loch Burshin was visible beyond the tree-covered hills, glittering, nestled in the green landscape.
Nes ached to explore the remainder of the gorgeous estate, inside and out.
Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad at Stormhill, cantankerous duke aside.
She could develop a new, lovely routine.
And she preferred this bedroom over her last; that had to be an auspicious sign.
Nes was hanging the last of her clothing in the comically large closet when a soft rap sounded on her door.
“My lady.” A pudgy woman, with gray hair and rosy cheeks, reminded Nes a bit of her mother as she slipped in and set a tray with tea and sandwiches atop the dresser.
With a sparkle in her kind eyes framed by crow’s feet, the woman scanned the room, apparently found it acceptable, and returned her gaze to Nes’s face.
“I’ll be taking care of you and your chamber while you’re the duke’s guest.”
“Oh.” She wasn’t the duke’s guest, but all right.
“Shall I draw you a bath, my lady?”
Nesrina liked working the taps herself, but was that considered uncouth? She’d done it at the palace, but she honestly had no clue what she was or wasn’t supposed to do as a Guest of the King, as a tutor who kept getting slapped in these fancy chambers for no discernable reason.
“You can call me Nesrina, or miss, but I’m no lady. Unless it breaks some unwritten rule, I believe I’m capable of turning the taps myself.”
Shocking Nes in the best way possible, the maid laughed loudly.
“Understood, Miss Kiappa. You can call me Aylin. Now, I’m not going to stop you from running your own bath, not by any means, but my understanding is you’re coming off of four days trapped in a carriage with the prince and princess.
We thought you deserved pampering. Doesn’t mean I’m going to start calling you lady again, but why don’t you sit down and enjoy that repast while I fill the basin. Would you like that, miss?”
“Yes, yes I would,” she begrudged.
“Good. Now, wipe that look off your face. No one’s making you run the country, Miss Nesrina, and no one’s holding a knife to my neck. We’re all part of Stormhill, and we take care of one another here.”
Beaming, Nes tested her spiced tea while Aylin filled the tub. These were the types of connections she’d been hoping to find at the palace, more people like Rihan, more commoners like herself.
Iridescent bubbles drifted around her, and she poked one to pop it.
Guest of the King. The honorary title served as a reminder that she was, to everyone else, a commoner in a fine cloak.
Nes was nothing more than a tutor, a green one at that, her position heightened because of her late papa’s rapport with the ruler.
She skirted the edges of an aristocratic world, a glittery, expensive place where every tub had taps. She wasn’t part of it.
That should have made her feel better; she knew the nobles were unsavory.
Papa had told her that. She wouldn’t want to be confused with one, but she had to admit, the silky creams and scented bubbles of her bath felt hard-earned.
He’d always said they took what they needed and never gave back, she’d do well to remember that.
With a frown, she scrubbed her leg with a soapy cloth.
Still, despite his qualms with the upper echelons of society, Papa would be proud of her and wouldn’t want her feeling less than confident in her new position, she was positive.
Nes wouldn’t lose herself to the glamor of her gorgeous washroom, the expansive estate, or the finery around her. She would not.
In making that commitment to continue to do her papa proud, a small weight fluttered off her chest. Inhaling deeply, she dunked. With her eyes closed tight and her heartbeat echoing around her, she wondered where Rihan was staying and when she might share a moment with him again.
By her third day at Stormhill, Nesrina had confirmed that the whole estate was as enchanting as she’d suspected.
Better yet, she was developing a routine.
Her days began and ended with tea and books, with a bit of tutoring and stolen kisses sandwiched in the middle.
She’d even stumbled upon a sheltered forest glade set away from the manor house, an idyllic place to teach.
That day, the weather was pristine, and as she’d done the previous two afternoons, Nesrina wrangled the children for an outdoor lesson.
They traipsed across the lawn, Della and Ataht’s shrieks of excitement startling both gardeners and birds alike and drawing the attention of two of the duke’s hounds.
The huge beasts, named Enoth and Vites, after the old gods of sky and earth, bounded up to them.
The dogs leapt on and lapped at the twins, eliciting raucous laughter before they were called away.
After a few minutes of walking and attempting to re-settle the kids, they made it to the grassy clearing with a small sandy bank at the edge of the shaded creek. It was the perfect place to teach, far from the grumpy duke who haunted the manor halls.
From her pockets, Nesrina produced two fresh candles and stuck them on a stump in the middle of their makeshift classroom: four stumps in a circle. While she still harnessed chaos broadly, she’d taken to having the children use a set source of energy. It cut down on mishaps.
Pulling power from the stream, Nes created approximations of flint, steel, and wool to light the flames, explaining her process as she went.
Then she sat on her own stump, back to the rushing water as a bead of sweat dripped down her spine.
Weaving herself a cooling patch, styled after the prince’s blob from her interview dinner, she slapped it to the back of her neck.
“Can’t we learn in the stream?” Della whined.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, please?” Ataht chimed in.
“No. The stream is a huge source of power for us, so we need to focus on these candles.”
The twins pouted, sporting matching frowns.
“We can swim after we’re done.”
They screeched, and Nesrina let out a sweaty sigh.
The lesson went smoothly with the twins drawing chaos from the candle, holding it, and releasing it.
Over and over they practiced, until they were so fidgety Ataht tipped over twice and the princess was no longer able to manage eye contact, swinging her gaze past Nes to focus on the rippling stream.
The day had grown hotter. Nesrina’s forehead was damp when she finally blew out the candle stumps.
“Can we swim now?”
“Yes.”
In a split second, the twins had kicked off their shoes and rushed into the stream.
Following, with her dress bunched up to her knees, Nes waded in.
She’d have preferred to leap, like the children.
But unlike the young royals, her wardrobe was far less extensive, and she needed to keep her few dresses in working order.
Eventually, Fatema, the children’s second nanny, emerged into the clearing, calling them in for their activities.
Grumbling, they splashed out of the stream and trudged behind the caretaker, shoes in hand.
Nesrina waded out to pack up her lesson and replace her discarded shoes.
But as the children’s yelps and giggles faded away into the forest, replaced by the chirping of birds and rustling in the underbrush, she figured it wouldn’t hurt to stick around a bit longer.
It was so pleasant and peaceful, and that creek looked delectable in the oppressive heat.
This time, when she walked in, Nesrina didn’t bother hiking up her skirts.
In nothing but her underdress, she flopped in, cooling her steaming skin.
Then she half swam, half walked on her knees, upstream to where cobbles and boulders dammed up the way.
The middle of the man-made swimming hole was deeper than she was tall, which wasn’t saying much, but it was a glorious sensation to kick her feet off the bottom and float, the sounds of the forest muffled by water covering her ears.
Nesrina’s skirts fluttered out around her, adrift on the stifled current.
For a moment, she considered stripping off her underdress too, for a proper swim, but it was too risky.
What if the children came back? Still, it was so pleasant in the water, practically ice in contrast to the balmy day.