Chapter 9
Light pink chiffon and gold trim flowed in delicate waves to my feet, encased in gold slippers.
Anya pulled the pink strings of the corseted bodice taut, enhancing my breasts, minimizing my waistline, and cutting off my air supply.
It was an unspoken demand of women to be subjected to such torturous garments, so we became nothing more than pretty curves and a few words.
Fiery comments and witty remarks that burned on our tongues were temporarily muted when there was no air to feed them.
This dress was particularly vile because it was pink.
I hated pink—my mother’s chosen color for me.
She believed that if she could make me look like one of her delicate roses in her garden, I would act like it.
But roses have thorns, and every time she forced me into the color, it would piss me off.
My points only sharpened at her requests, resistant to her demands.
After a few years of intentionally ruining all the pink clothes she bought me, she gave up and moved on to other avenues of making me compliant.
Yet here I was, willingly enduring pink without complaint because voicing my disdain wouldn’t make me any allies.
Anya finished her lacing and pulling, tying the silk into a bow at my lower back. “There. All ready to have breakfast with the commander and then meet King Torrish and Queen Mollah in the throne room. You look lovely.”
“Thanks,” I accidentally replied dryly. I blinked and righted myself into the noble role I was to play.
“Cora looks stunning. That color is beautiful on her, and you did an amazing job with her hair. Her curls have never looked better!” Cora twirled in her emerald-green dress, puffing the skirt.
Her curls were defined and sprang with each step she took.
Anya pointed up to her own head of curls. “I have a lot of practice.” A soft smile appeared genuinely on her face.
My frizzy waves were tamed in twists and braids resting at the nape of my neck.
Anya applied makeup to my face, something I hadn’t done in years.
With a final look in the mirror, I hardly recognized myself.
Staring back at me was the noblewoman I spent a lifetime running from.
I fluttered my darkened lashes and pressed my pink-stained lips together.
I could be considered pretty by human standards, but the standards were to look and be like everyone else.
“All done, my ladies. We should get you down to breakfast soon. The commander waits.” Anya closed a gold compact of rouge and smiled at me in the mirror.
“I’m starving. Do you have pancakes here? I really want pancakes.” Cora tilted her head.
“Cora, manners.” I reminded.
Anya giggled. “I am not sure what that is, my lady, but I promise there will be many delicious options to choose from,” she stated as she tapped Cora on the nose.
Anya’s demeanor was friendlier and warmer this morning.
“Let me put away my supplies, and I will lead you down to the great hall.” She left Cora and me in the sitting room.
“Cora, hand me my satchel, please.” I pointed to the ground beside her.
She plucked the worn leather bag from the smooth marble and passed it to me.
Her inquisitive hazel eyes watched intently as I pulled out an embroidered handkerchief neatly wrapped around something that unknowingly held importance to her.
One of the few items I packed for the escape.
An heirloom—Cora’s family heirloom. The only thing I had left of Micah.
I let the handkerchief fall open to reveal a gold pendant hung from a chain.
The heirloom had a beautiful engraving of two crossed swords with what looked like a feather underneath them.
Micah wouldn’t tell me much about it other than that it had been in his family a long time.
He gave me the pendant a week before he left, which solidified us as family.
It took me three months to come to terms with the fact that Micah was gone, and on that day, I took off the necklace and placed it in a drawer for safekeeping.
I couldn’t look at it anymore, much less wear the constant reminder of what we should have grown into.
Discarding it wasn’t right, and I felt Cora should have it to wear.
Her eyes widened as she took the gold pendant with one hand, dangling it in front of her curious face, staring at the engraving. “It’s so pretty, Mom! What’s it for?”
“It is for you, my love. Your father gave this to me a few days before he left. It is a family heirloom. I am not sure how many generations it was passed down, but—” Cora thrust her arms around my waist, and I stumbled backwards. The pink chiffon rustled as we moved.
“Thank you,” she whispered, still clutching the pendant in her hand.
I wrapped my arms around her and laid my rouged cheek on the top of her head. “You’re welcome, sweet girl. I hope this helps you feel more connected to him. I know he would want you to have this.”
She squeezed tighter before abruptly letting go and handing me the pendant. “Will you put it on me?”
“Of course.” I swept her curls to the side and placed the pendant around her neck, fastening the chain. It hung low on her chest, and she tucked it beneath the top of her dress.
“Are you ready to leave?” Anya asked as she entered the sitting room.
I nodded, and we all moved for the door, my mask of nobility and refinement firmly in place.
Breakfast with nobles went exactly as one would expect it to go.
They barely acknowledged me, dressed in their finest snobbery.
Gabriel was the only one who spoke with me.
His demeanor slid back to gentle, friendly, and questionably flirtatious.
That garnered a few sideways glances from noblewomen at the table.
Like any demure noblewoman, I made sure to only speak in turn, which wasn’t much at all.
The only positive was that they gushed over Cora.
I briefed her before breakfast on what to expect and how to act.
Though she was a child, she would still be expected to behave with a certain decorum.
At least, she would be at home. She dazzled, and both men and women took turns telling Cora stories or listening to her animatedly describe her friends, school, or life with unfeigned interest. It was shocking for the nobility to be so involved with a child.
In Edenalee, the nobles felt children should be seen occasionally and never heard.
Now, we waited alongside Gabriel outside the throne room to be called upon by King Torrish and Queen Mollah.
I steadied my breathing and, more than once, had to remind myself not to wring my fingers.
Now more than ever, I had to present as worthy to be in their presence and not some jittery commoner.
Being human was already a strike against me.
“You look positively radiant in that dress, Rory,” Gabriel whispered in my ear.
His warm breath and proximity gave me chills, though I was not sure if it was good or bad. “Why, thank you, Your Highness. You flatter me.” I tipped my head and lowered my eyes.
A wolfish grin slid across his face. “Pink is my favorite color for a woman to wear. So delicate. So feminine. You wear it beautifully.”
“Are you to thank for this gown then?” I questioned.
“Maybe,” he teased with a wink.
Ugh.
I pulled a coquette smile from the depths of me but said nothing. Internally, I cringed.
Two large wooden doors of the throne room slowly opened, and I straightened myself, grasping Cora’s hand in mine. I heard her take a breath as I did.
A guard’s voice rang out in echoes. “Your Majesties. His Royal Highness and Army Commander, Gabriel Callum Harester, and two of his guests are here to see you.”
Gabriel palmed my lower back, seemingly his hand’s favorite resting place, and led Cora and me into a vast room.
The signature gold-flecked white marble floors gleamed.
Banners of dark blue displaying a white crest of an eye with a crown above it hung on each wall.
A large gold statue of Themis holding chains in one hand and a sword in the other sat receded on a dais.
Two thrones rested in front of the statue, and upon them were the King and Queen of the seraph continent.
We stopped our entrance at the foot of the dais, and I curtsied into a low bow. Cora glanced at me and followed suit.
“Stand,” a deep voice commanded from the dais.
We resumed a straightened position, and I folded my hands in front of me as I raised my chin and looked directly upon the king and queen for the first time.
King Torrish had dark, salt-and-pepper hair that hung in waves to his shoulders.
His gold crown had an eye engraved on every point, inlaid with diamonds for the pupils.
His icy blue eyes raked over my appearance.
He was a handsome man, dripping in regality, and a stern look was etched on his face.
The Queen looked to be around my age. Hair of honey blonde was curled to perfection and almost sparkled in the light pouring in from the large windows lining the room.
Or maybe it was from the golden statue beaming light off her hair that made it shine.
Regardless, she was one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen.
A gold tiara sat on her head with sparkling inlaid opals.
Large green eyes looked at me before landing on Cora.
A soft smile curled on her pouty pink lips.
Gabriel spoke with confidence and propriety. “Your Majesties, may I present Ladies Aurora and Cora Alwine of Edenalee. They have accidentally crossed the threshing wall.”
How in the underworld did Gabriel know not only my full name but also my surname? I blinked slowly, preventing the surprise from reflecting on my face.
Queen Mollah directed her attention back to me. “What an interesting and frightening ordeal you two must have gone through. I do hope no harm came to you upon crossing.”