Chapter 11
I woke to the sound of the door opening. I lifted one heavy eyelid enough to see the maid from the night before entering the chamber with a breakfast tray.
“Good morning, Miss,” she said. “I hope you slept well. I’ll return shortly to help you dress for the day.”
Before I had a chance to respond, she was already gone. Sitting up, I regarded the contents of the tray. I salivated at the fruit, toast, eggs and tea, but it was the unfamiliar item that I eyed warily.
Stabbing it with my fork, I inspected it distrustfully.
Cylindrical in shape and dirt-brown in color, it certainly didn’t look appetizing.
Still, I would embrace this land and all of its strange offerings.
After a small, reluctant nibble, I was surprised to find I actually enjoyed the salty taste it left in my mouth.
It was all the convincing I needed. Soon I was sampling everything, pleased that I wouldn’t have to spend the next few weeks forcing down flavorless gruel.
I had already cleaned my plate and was sipping my heavily sweetened tea by the time the maid returned with a pine green gown in her hand. Observing my empty plate she said, “It’s good to see your appetite has not been affected, if you don’t mind me saying, Miss. You’ve had quite an ordeal.”
“It would take more than a spot of wild weather and a brush with death to rid me of my taste for eggs,” I said, the side of my mouth curling upwards.
She chuckled. “Very good, Miss. Shall I help you dress?”
I eyed the gown with its elaborate buttons and ribbons and nodded.
“It looks complicated. I think it’s best I don’t attempt to navigate it on my own.
” She chuckled again, not realizing that I wasn’t joking in the slightest. Still, she seemed friendly enough and she’d undoubtedly know everything that went on at the castle.
The servants always did. “What’s your name? ” I asked as I disrobed.
“Runa. I have been assigned to look after your needs during your time here.”
Runa looked to be about my age, although her head barely reached my shoulders. She had tawny eyes, cinnamon hair and a friendly, freckle-dusted face.
Once I stepped into the gown, she tightened the bodice with expert force. I sucked in a breath. “Damn me to confinement,” I swore. “I’ve never understood why women subject themselves to this torture.”
“Confinement?” she giggled. “I’ve never heard such a curse.” Shit. “Is the fashion much different in your land?” She continued to fasten the bodice, compressing my ribs with every pull.
My face heated. My clumsy mouth had let too much slip.
Clearing my throat, I responded, “Not all that different, though perhaps not as intricate as the fashions here.” Not entirely a lie.
In Vantillios we wore relaxed, flowing garments made from breathable fabrics, designed to be effortlessly removed as we transitioned from land to sea.
“Our fashions suit you well.” She took a step back to admire the gown. “Even if they aren’t what you are used to.”
The gown was far from comfortable, and it was horribly restrictive to move in. But if I was going to play the role of a mortal, I would have to dress like one.
Runa chatted idly while she brushed and styled my hair.
I learned she was fairly new to the castle, having recently left her village to earn coin for her family.
When she wasn’t assisting me, her duties extended to sewing and embroidering for the royal household.
She was an easy-going, sweet-natured person who spoke with adoration for her family.
She and I could not be more different.
“Is it difficult for you to be away from your family?” I asked, genuinely intrigued by the concept of being fond of one’s relatives. Not that I didn’t love my grandmother, of course. But I doubted I’d yearn for her presence over the weeks to come. The idea was laughable.
“Oh, very much. I miss them every day, but I know that being here helps Ma and Pa put food on the table and buy new shoes for my brothers and sisters, so I get on with it and hope that Ingrid will grant me leave to visit them soon,” she said as she put the finishing touches on my hair.
“Is she likely to do so?” Ingrid didn’t seem like the sort of person who would approve of her staff requesting leave from their duties.
“Ingrid is strict, but fair. She has a kind heart under her stern exterior, and I have no doubt she will permit me time away from the castle once I have saved enough coin. All done, Miss Alara.”
When I peered at myself in the mirror, it was like staring at a stranger wearing my face. She had skillfully styled my hair into elaborate braids at the back of my head. Usually, I preferred to wear it unbound, but it looked undeniably sophisticated. Polished.
There was a knock on the door. Ingrid didn’t wait for a response before she entered the room—a habit of hers, it seemed. “I trust your sleep was satisfactory?”
“Oh, yes,” I said sweetly. “I slept like a manatee.”
She looked at me with an odd expression, and I felt my cheeks warming. Obviously, that was the wrong thing to say. I was far too careless this morning.
“Very good,” she said briskly. “Runa, you may take your leave. Miss Alara, the king has instructed that I give you a tour of the castle, if you will.”
Her offer seemed like a demand, but I didn’t mind. There was an infinite amount of the mortal world I couldn’t wait to see, starting with the castle.
“I would love to,” I responded with a grin.
***
The castle thrummed with activity. Servants hurried up and down the corridors carrying hampers of dirty linen and cleaning supplies, while royal guards stood stationed at their posts. They mostly ignored us; however, I noticed a few appreciative stares in my direction.
As we made our way through a hallway lined with paintings, Ingrid explained that my bedchamber was situated in the guest wing of the castle. Unless I was invited to dine elsewhere, my meals would be delivered to my bedchamber or the guest dining room, if I preferred.
My stomach gave an unexpected jolt at the thought of dinner that night. There would most likely be a number of people in attendance, which meant more mortals I would have to fool. More questions.
Playing with the gold lock on my charm bracelet, I tried to anticipate all the lies and half-truths I would need to fabricate. I barely took notice of my surroundings until we reached a wooden staircase that led into another hallway. While we walked, Ingrid detailed the history of the castle.
“Cliffcrest Castle was originally built as a fortress by His Majesty’s ancestor, King Harald the First, not long after The Rebellion ended,” she explained.
“However, parts of the castle burned down in a tragic fire over two hundred years ago. Most of what you see before you is a result of the restoration, save for the lower western parts of the castle, the underground tunnels, and the dungeon. The rest of the castle was redesigned to provide a more comfortable residence for the royal family, the lords and ladies of the Court, and the many servants and guards who reside here.”
I glanced appreciatively at the embellished walls and ceilings, the splashes of wood paneling lining the interior, and the abundance of windows allowing for natural light to illuminate the hallways.
The windows were lovely, but exposed. How easily could light become flame if the castle was under threat?
“What would happen if it were to be attacked now?” I wondered aloud.
She seemed to bristle. “The castle remains heavily fortified, as you would have seen when you entered the grounds yesterday. I can assure you the castle and its residents would withstand any attack.”
We reached another flight of stairs, this time made of stone. We descended floor after floor until we were back in the cavernous entrance hall.
“We’ll head to the great hall first,” she said. Just as she was about to launch into another history lesson, we ran into a harried servant trailing behind three unruly dogs.
Their furry bodies came bounding towards us. My heart rate quickened as I took in the sheer size of them. They could have been related to wolves with their thick fur, pointed ears and sharp canines.
Would they sense my otherness and attack? To my relief, they merely sniffed me with enthusiastic interest.
“Siggy! Nordin! Ulf!” The frazzled dog walker raced over to us.
“Anders! What is the meaning of this?” Ingrid snapped.
“My apologies Ingrid, my apologies Miss. I don’t know what’s come over them this morning, they ain’t usually like this. Prince Tarben walks them in the evenings, and he don’t have no trouble with them, I swear it!”
A laugh bubbled from my mouth. The largest of the three dogs sniffed my hand and gazed up at me as if to say go on. When I reached down and stroked his body, he rolled onto his back, clearly eager for a belly scratch. I happily obliged, enjoying the feel of warm fur under my hands.
“Ulf has taken a liking to you, Miss,” said Anders, watching with a sheepish look on his face.
“Have you now?” I said to the beast who wriggled around in pleasure, tongue lolling out of his mouth.
It wasn’t long before the other two dogs were vying for my attention. I stroked and scratched behind their ears and was met with wagging tails and cheerful licks that felt like wet pumice against my hands. Giggling, I had to fight the urge to speak to them in my silliest voice.
Ingrid cleared her throat. “If you don’t mind, we must be on our way. I still have much to show you before lunch.”
“Of course.” I stood and brushed my gown with my hands.
Disappointed I couldn’t stay and play, I said goodbye to my new friends and followed her.
As I trailed behind her, I couldn’t help but smile. Dogs were even better than I’d imagined they’d be.
***