Chapter 4
ONE YEAR LATER
Kai’s Ascension Day and the mysterious deaths of the king and three princes cast a pall over the kingdom that, for me, has never lifted. I walk with my head down with my hair concealing my face. I cling to the shadows whenever I have to leave our garret apartment.
I can’t hide when I’m working in the kitchens.
I must secure my hair away from my face in the name of cleanliness and hygiene.
I volunteer for the overnight and early morning shifts, the ones no one else wants.
I have worked so much that for the past year I have barely seen the sun.
My skin has lightened in response to the lack of solar exposure, a side effect I welcome, for the paler my skin is the less noticeable my scars.
I learn to ignore the stares of my colleagues. After a while, most of them get used to my damaged appearance and stop gawking at me. The rest of the castle denizens, however, stop and stare whenever I must leave the kitchens.
Most of all, I go out of my way to avoid Kai.
The arrogant, cruel-tongued prick of a prince I once fancied myself in love with.
Our paths have crossed rarely since that day when his words cut deeper than any knife.
His mother must have seen the change in him, for she has consolidated her power as regent while finding any excuse to send Kai far away from the castle.
Her once-warm smile has turned ghostly and brittle on the rare occasions when it appears.
Whispers of how he has alienated and insulted each foreign king she asked him to visit, run rampant.
Once, Kai was considered a good match for any princess. Now, Montrace is all but friendless in the world.
Today, he is returning after an extended mission. The entire castle is on edge, swirling with rumors about how he’s been sent home in disgrace. My once-sweet friend has turned hard and bitter. Every word he speaks is hurtful. He delights in his own cruelty.
“Gwen.”
I’m so lost in thought that the knife in my hand slips when my grandmother’s voice startles me. I hiss at the sharp sting.
“Let me see that.” Nana examines the cut, deliberately not looking at my face. “You didn’t used to be this jumpy.”
“Kai’s coming back.”
I’m trying to stay numb. Wrap my heart in ice. Not let his cruel words cut me to the quick again. But I have never been very good at shutting Kai out. I feel like those ice knives sliced into my heart and it hasn’t stopped bleeding since.
“That’s what I’ve come to talk with you about.” Nana signs heavily and wraps my hand in a clean rag. “The queen has summoned you.”
The dread that’s been weighing on me since I learned of Kai’s imminent return becomes an anchor dragging me down into heretofore unknown depths of despair.
“Me? Why?”
“The messenger didn’t say.”
“I hope it’s not about him.” We have danced around speaking Kai’s name for months. I avoid it now.
“Can’t be about anything else, can it?” Nana says briskly. “Gwen. Look at me.”
Reluctantly, I raise my head.
“The scars are not that bad. You cannot let one person’s reaction define you.”
“It’s not just one person. It’s everyone.” She knows I cannot stand people’s pity.
Nana has nothing to say to that. “Let’s get you cleaned up. You cannot go before the queen covered in potato shavings.”
Dressed in a clean, modest gown, I make my way through the halls flanked by two towering guards. I feel like a prisoner being marched to her execution.
I keep my gaze fixed on the elaborately patterned carpet. If I remain between the bordered edges I can make my way all the way to the dais without having to lift my head.
But the guards don’t escort me to the throne room. What little serenity I had managed to summon disappears when they bring me to a private antechamber instead.
“Come forward, Gwendolyn.”
I hold back, trying to figure out how to approach and curtsey at the same time. Crawling seems undignified, so I edge forward until I’m within a few feet of the queen before sweeping one foot behind me in an awkward bow.
“Rise, Gwen,” the queen says. “We will not stand on ceremony.”
I gather my shaking legs beneath me and clasp my hands at my waist expectantly.
“Kai is expected to return any day now. You were once close friends. I would like for you to try and remind my son of his true nature,” she says.
My throat constricts. This is worse than I feared, and I was not exactly optimistic about being ordered to appear before my sovereign.
“I fear he has changed irrevocably.” I gulp. “Highness.”
“Have you tried?”
“No.”
“I have. There are moments when I see a flicker of the old Kai, my beloved and only living son.” Her voice is freighted with sorrow. “You will do this for your kingdom. You are not a traitor, are you, Gwendolyn?”
I shake my head.
“Come closer. Let me see your face.”
The last thing I want is for a beautiful queen to examine my ruined looks.
I don’t dare disobey a direct command, though.
She takes my chin. Light hits my eyelids.
I keep them squeezed shut. Her fingertips dance gently over the marks on my cheeks and forehead, lingering on the worst one near my hairline.
A thick streak of white has grown there, blinding bright amidst the reddish-brown hue of my chestnut curls.
“Pity. You would have been a great beauty.”
Her assessment burns. I’m not sure what good beauty would have done for me anyway, but it was my only asset and I lost it through no fault of my own. I open my eyes. The queen plucks a small pot off the table next to her, and adjusts my face again.
“This will help cover the scars.” She dots cool cream on my face and gently blends it across my skin.
It feels strange. Cosmetics are a whorish affectation, but when the queen holds up a hand mirror for me to inspect her work, I cannot deny my relief.
I look like my old self for the first time in more than a year.
Better than my old self. I can’t tear my gaze away.
“Kai may be more amenable to remembering himself if he isn’t reminded of what happened to you both that day. Keep it,” says the queen. I tuck the tiny pot into my pocket for safekeeping. “I will supply you with better dresses, too.”
“Long-sleeved?” I ask.
She hesitates, then nods as if she had something else in mind but is willing to accommodate my newfound shyness.
This will be uncomfortable enough without feeling exposed in the kind of fashionable dress appropriate for court.
Hard to believe that there was a time when I wished I could display more of my bosom.
I barely remember the girl I was back then.
“What happens if I can’t do it?”
“Then you had better leave the castle,” she says. “Your grandmother, too. Once my son takes the throne, I cannot answer for his temper or his actions. Nor will I be able to protect you from them.”
Alarmed, I stare at her. “Where would we go?”
The queen waves one hand airily. “Wherever you wish. Remaining here would undoubtedly be painful for you. Your grandmother isn’t so young anymore.
She raised you. Surely you can find a way to support her in her dotage.
” Her leg twitches beneath her brocade skirt.
“If you succeed, Gwendolyn, I am prepared to reward you handsomely. I strongly suggest you put your mind to making this endeavor a success. The consequences of failure will not be pleasant.”
My stomach sinks into the bowels of the earth. “What must I do?”