22. Raven
Not knowing how to respond to Chace’s request, I didn’t even try.
After folding the letter like I had all the others and slipping it into the hiding place at the back of the headboard, I got dressed and met Neive in the receiving room.
My scheduled time with Valen had been postponed to accommodate a morning fitting with the seamstress, Camilla.
The same woman discussed, albeit briefly, in hushed tones roughly an hour earlier.
I liked Camilla and her daughters, and for reasons I had yet to understand, Camilla and her daughters really liked me.
I had yet to take the time to understand the dynamics but knew it had something to do with my time spent in the woman’s home while seriously wounded and slowly healing.
Lucas was originally going to escort me to my fitting appointment but had been temporarily retasked with returning a lost article—Winter—to its proper location—likely his apartment.
In his absence, Neive guided me through the many halls of the palace, making our way to the workshop where Camilla waited—a different wing far from my palace apartment.
As we passed through an intersection of passageways, I glanced toward the center of the building.
The entire royal structure surrounded a large central garden, of which my apartment terrace had a bird’s-eye view.
And from where we stood, the passageway to that luscious space beyond was open.
I swung a finger, indicating the outlet. “Would you mind if we detour through the garden? Enjoy a touch of sunlight and fresh air?”
“Lovely idea.” Neive beamed and diverted us through the open doors into an aromatic escape bursting with color.
Anywhere the eye wandered, roses bloomed.
But it wasn’t the wonder of the garden that had prompted my request, but rather the opportunity to gain a closer look at the tower Chace had mentioned in his earlier letter.
The tower I too had noticed. The one with the odd splash of darkness shadowing the highest window.
I shot my gaze straight to the place in question. Even from the garden, it was difficult to discern what comprised the dark, shifting anomaly. My mind wandered to various options, none of them pleasant; ants, roaches, locusts…enchanted tar.
I shivered. Glanced at Neive. The lady’s maid had her head angled toward the sky and her eyes closed. With her hair spun into a top bun, many of the strands shimmering like white gold in the light of the sun, she reminded me of Antonio Canova’s Greek dancer sculpture.
“Thank you for the detour,” I said softly.
She tipped her head and smiled. “Of course. It’s no problem whatsoever.”
“How much do you know about the palace?” I asked.
Neive folded her hands together at her waist. “Quite a bit, I gander. I’ve been working here since before.”
Before the curse, so at least a century. But I knew that already, based on previous conversations I’d heard.
“And the tower?” I swung my arm toward the high structure and its window shadowed in moving darkness. “What’s the deal with that?”
She tsked. “Such a shame, isn’t it? I have never understood why no one has made an effort to get rid of that blight. It’s been there for as long as the curse has plagued us.”
“Maybe they can’t get rid of it,” I reasoned, regarding what she referred to as that blight…the moving shadow.
“That could be.” She shrugged. “The rumor is that some old family member who is deeply afflicted lives up in that tower. Given the situation was said to be documented before the onset of the curse, I venture a guess that their affliction is different than most, possibly something to do with their magic. I don’t know.
But, I suppose, something along those lines could explain the ugly mark that moves around the window. ”
An afflicted in the tower with diseased magic. That was a curious thought. I recalled the afflicted woman I had run into shortly after arriving at the castle. The queen’s daughter. Only no darkness followed that royal through the halls.
So, someone else, then.
And if that someone else was someone I was meant to reap, that would explain my draw to the place. Of course, I would need to continue investigating because speculation was nothing compared to hard facts.
No more words passed between us as we made our way to my fitting. It was to be my second, and if all went well, hopefully my last seamstress appointment. After which, I would have more options regarding my apparel.
Camilla and the twins were ready and waiting when Neive left me in the hall outside the workshop’s open door. A rack that hadn’t been there during my last appointment now sat prominently in the room, crammed with garments of varied colors and textures.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Camilla waved me into the room. “Let’s get started. Come in here and strip down.”
I tried on more outfits than I knew what to do with. Some of them I never imagined myself using. Not while I was on task, which I was. I couldn’t allow myself to lose sight of that fact.
I stood on a pedestal before the mirror, monitoring Camilla as she made her way around the hem of the black slip I wore. All of the other pieces I tried on were ready to go, but this one still needed tweaking.
Camilla pulled a pin from her wrist cushion and weaved it near the base of the slip. “Sorry I couldn’t make you any new leathers. I don’t have the proper tools.”
“That’s okay,” I replied. “I appreciate everything you’ve done. Overwhelmed by it, really.”
Camilla glanced up from her work, her face beaming. “Well, I gather leathers are your preferred choice of apparel, so I reached out to someone I know, and they’ve already started on the order.”
I blinked. “Wow. All these clothes and new leathers. Someone might think the prince is trying to buy me.”
Camilla let out a nervous laugh, causing my gaze to narrow on her. But Camilla kept her nose in her work, avoiding my scrutiny.
I turned my attention to the mirror and the reflection of myself in the sleeveless, solid black dress with a plunging neckline. I couldn’t imagine going anywhere or doing anything where such a gown would be required.
“Where am I expected to wear this garment?”
One of the girls, the unafflicted twin named Kira, danced forward with a child’s drawing of me wearing what I assumed would be the finished product. “Black like the bird, the raven. Like your name.”
“Pretty.” My thoughts snagged on the words black…bird.
Camilla laughed. “The girls did help in the concept stage. The gown is for the upcoming birthday ball.”
I shook my head. “Oh. I—”
“You really must go. It’s the highlight of the year.
Everything and everyone is so beautiful.
” She sighed, a faraway look settling on her face.
“The ball is for August’s birthday, so it’s always had an autumn theme.
Rich and dark colors. Masks to honor Samhain.
Before August…when he was still here…Winter would always make it snow on the guests.
Nothing drastic, just a light sprinkling.
Very magical but not fitting with the theme.
It was part of their brotherly teasing.”
A smile clearly born of bittersweet memories laced across her face.
“The palace staff hated the snow because it would melt to water all over the floor. But August… He’d always try to make sure Winter’s snow evaporated before it touched down.
” She’d stopped working and stared at the edge of the gown, her eyes glazing. “Those were beautiful times.”
“Sounds amazing,” I said, hoping to pull Camilla out of whatever sad place she’d slipped into.
“Yeah.” She resumed pinning the hem of the gown. “Winter hasn’t made it snow since August disappeared. But then, magic became a fraction of what it was after that. I doubt he could make it snow even if he wanted to.”
After all the magic Winter had managed to recollect, I had to wonder. Maybe he could make it snow, but he probably wouldn’t want to. That would be like ringing a bell to tell…and show…his grandmother that he had untapped, unsyphoned magic.
And then, she’d likely take it.
In fact, I now contemplated all the citizens, like Camilla and her twins. How many knew why their magical wells had diminished?
“He thinks you’re going to look so pretty,” Kira said. “He can’t wait to see you in this gown.”
She nodded to the slip of a dress I currently donned.
“Who?” I asked. “Winter?”
Kira shook her head. “Chace. He said the dress was pretty when I showed him the drawing.”
“You saw Chace?” Why was my heart acting the fool and getting erratic?
I had received his letter this morning. I knew he was all right and trying to dictate my actions.
He’s just trying to keep you safe, my inner voice whispered.
Camilla stepped back from her work and ran an admiring gaze over the sweep of the gown, scrutinizing every element. “We saw him this morning. He was making his way back to Aoes’s in time for the early morning breakfast rush.”
I almost laughed at the word “rush.” When I’d been staying there, I had not witnessed anything that constituted a rush.
Camilla nodded at whatever she saw regarding the garment. “He looked dead on his feet and is likely resting up.”
“Why so tired?” I swept my hand to my chest. My heart pounded too fast and too hard.
What had he done, and what had he seen that prompted him to write his request in this morning’s note?
Camilla shrugged. “He didn’t say. The girls probably talked to him more than I did.” She motioned to the dress with a lift of her finger. “Turn around and let’s get you out of this thing. Now that I have the length marked, I need to add the adornments that will make it turn heads.”
I lifted my hair so that Camilla could unzip the gown down the back. “You don’t need to go to such trouble. I can’t imagine I’ll be attending the ball.”
“You have to go!” Kira darted to my side. “He’ll be there.”
“Chace?”
Kira nodded, a face-wide grin in place.
“How do you know?”
“Myla knows. She told me.” Kira pointed to her afflicted twin.