Chapter Twenty #3
She choked down a laugh and was saved from answering by a knock at the door.
It opened, and Orda, who’d helped in the bathing room my first night in the palace, trudged in carrying a looking glass that she placed on the table.
Another servant followed, carrying a mass of fabric in a soft green not far from the color of my eyes.
The bodice was square, the sleeves long and fitted, and the skirt voluminous.
The fabric had a wavy weave that shifted and shone as the servant carried it and placed it carefully onto the bed.
“Thank you, Maeve,” Orda said, then looked me over. “We’ve a lot to do.”
These clothes belonged on someone else, not me. Not constricting my movements and hampering my ability to run. I bore down hard against the rising panic. “Is there really a point to all this?”
“The public hasn’t yet seen the prince,” Talia said. “He needs to make an appearance, put the rumors to rest. He’s alive. He’s healthy. He’s in charge now. Rumors can be as dangerous to a royal as a sharp dagger. Weakness begets trouble.”
“But it’s not even my party. I’m a servant and a palace visitor, and no one is going to care what I look like.”
“The prince will care,” Orda said.
That had heat flashing across my cheeks. “Why would he care?”
“He can’t have palace guests looking drab, can he? They’re, what do you call them?”
“Representatives,” Talia said, pulling a wooden chair in front of the looking glass and pointing at it.
“Representatives,” Orda said with a nod. “You’re going to be representing all of us. So you’d best look good.”
Their work was much the same as it had been after the bath, except more ferocious.
I was stripped bare, then re-covered one bit of fabric at a time.
Strings were tied, laces pulled taut. The bodice was just high enough to hide the scratches I’d made across my chest; the Aetheric residue, at least, was less visible today.
But the sleeves were as tight as those of the prince’s jacket had been on the trip to Vhrania.
And that was only the beginning. There were stockings and shoes, and my hair was brushed until my scalp ached, then pulled back at the temples and secured with a pretty golden comb probably worth more than my bond.
I wondered if the prince would let me have it as a souvenir.
The rest hung down my back in soft waves, and they’d added a red salve to my cheeks and lips.
“You look lovely,” Talia said, then moved out of the way and spun me to face the looking glass.
We didn’t spend much time in front of mirrors, Wren and me, but I still hardly recognized the person who stared back. I still looked like me, but everything had been enhanced a little. My wavy hair shone, and the color in my cheeks made me look less like a victim of the Aetheric practitioner.
There was a knock at the door. Orda opened it and found Wren and Galen standing in the passageway. Both looked unhappy to be there.
“I’m here for the damned party,” Wren said, gorgeous in a long dress of deep red-black and an overrobe embroidered with gold at the hems.
“You are stunning,” I said.
“I know.” She looked me up and down. “You look good, too.”
I did a little curtsy.
“Gently bow your head,” Talia said. “Keep your back straight and bend the knees.” She demonstrated, her move perfectly elegant.
“Are you the steward or master of etiquette?” I muttered.
“As far as you’re concerned, both.”
“Ridiculous,” I muttered. “Talia and Orda, this is Wren. They tortured me into this dress.”
“Worth it,” Orda murmured.
Wren pulled a wrapped parcel from her pocket and handed it to me. It was still warm and smelled of bread and spices. “Flatbread from the eastern market.”
“There will be food at the celebration,” Galen said.
“That’s home-cooked,” Wren said.
“By a market seller.”
“No food or grease on the dress,” Talia said, snatching the packet away. She tossed it to Orda. “Have a snack.”
I muttered a curse, and Talia cleared her throat. “You are expected,” she reminded us. “You should go.”
“Thank you for the help,” I told Talia and Orda.
“You’re welcome. If you need help unpinning or unbuttoning, have the guard call us.”
“I’ll figure it out,” I said, because I had no doubt Wren had stowed a knife somewhere in that gown.
“Let’s go,” Galen said impatiently. Then he turned on his heel, expecting us to trot behind him like trained hounds.
Wren rolled her eyes. “Insufferable.”
“He’s mad because I nicked his bracelet yesterday. But I gave it back.”
“That’s what he gets for letting a thief into the palace,” Wren murmured.
“Did the Lady come?” I asked as we moved through the passageways toward the center dome. There were more soldiers around today, an additional precaution in case the practitioner decided to take a chance.
“Arriving by carriage,” Wren said. “She wanted to be escorted through the front door with the other fancies.” She surveyed the palace as we followed Galen, taking in the arches and mosaics and tapestries. “Speaking of fancies.”
“I know. We could live off just one of these tapestries.”
“I can hear you,” Galen said.
“We know,” Wren said. “You don’t scare us.”
That had him glancing back, lip curled. “I don’t like you.”
“Feeling’s mutual. Did you know you clomp when you walk? Try walking on your toes. You’ll make less noise.”
He growled at her. If they resorted to grappling, I’d put my coins on Wren.
Galen paused at a narrow, rounded door and opened it. Music flowed gently out from it.
It was a large rectangular room I hadn’t yet seen, and it was nearly as large as the throne room.
The ceilings were high and vaulted and hung with chandeliers crowned with what must have been thousands of candles.
One long wall was covered in mirrored glass, and the facing wall with tall windows draped with shimmering silver fabric, so that light shone and reflected and bounced.
The prince had even tried to chase away the darkness outside; doors were open to the stone courtyard, and the party spilled outside beneath torches and lanterns.
For guests who wanted to make an entrance, one of the shorter walls was taken up by a wide stone staircase that swept dramatically down from an upper floor and was flanked by urns of flowers.
Players held court on the opposite end, plucking a delicate tune on their instruments.
The party was lousy with wealthy strongholders, not the variety I usually interacted with.
We knew market sellers and farmers and builders whose faces and hands were lined and freckled by work and wind.
These people had pale skin and soft hands and wore their fineries—rich fabrics, golden jewelry, and feathers woven into their hair.
The men wore shoes that curled up at the end, and the sleeves of the women’s dresses were wide and long enough at the cuffs to hide a body.
Their hems swept the floor as they moved about the room, gazing at the luxuries and whispering about the prince.
“So much to take,” I murmured. “And so much bother if we did it.”
“Agreed. Where’s the prince?”
“Probably wants to make a grand entrance.” It was his celebration, after all. “Have you seen Luna? She didn’t come last night.”
She shook her head. “I haven’t seen her.” And the furrow between her brows said she didn’t like it, either. “Maybe she found the practitioner.”
I almost told her about the pinch I’d felt yesterday, but I didn’t want to worry her, especially since I’d seen no sign of Aether.
“There’ve been other times she’s disappeared,” Wren added.
“I know. But this isn’t like other times. And don’t tell me to be patient.”
“You?” She snorted. “Wouldn’t be worth the breath.”
“I think I dreamed about my mother,” I said. My voice was quiet, but the words still burst out of me like I’d been holding them in, waiting for a chance to release them.
Wren was quiet. “For good or ill?”
“I think she was murdered before I came here.”
She reached out, squeezed my hand. “That would explain why your father was alone.”
“Yeah.”
“You know who? Or why?”
“No.”
“Do you want to find out?” I knew she was making an offer, agreeing to join me on that quest, if that’s what I wanted. But I wasn’t sure what I wanted.
“I’m not sure. I’ll let you know.”
“Do that,” she said, and then slipped her hand away. “Prepare yourself to be irritated,” she said, and gestured toward the other side of the room.
The Lady moved toward us in a long dress and overrobe the color of raspberries.
Her hair was up and knotted, and a golden necklace of red cabochons, each as big as a grape, was draped across her chest above a low bodice.
She flowed toward us, her sleeves trailing behind her, chin lifted in aristocratic arrogance.
It had only been a few days since I’d been to the manor, and the sight of her here was jarring. This was the prince’s home, so far unpoisoned by her greed. I didn’t want her intrusion. I wanted it clean of her.
“I’ll get you the drink you’ll need shortly,” Wren murmured, slipping away before the Lady reached us.
When she did, she looked me up and down like a shepherdess assessing her stock. “You look very presentable.”
“Thank you. His Highness was very kind.”
Her gaze slipped away from me and back to the silvered glass and chandeliers and drapes of fabric. “What I wouldn’t give to live in a palace.” Her voice was both wistful and judgmental, as if I didn’t deserve the great gift bestowed on me.
“I’m here for my protection.”
She snorted, waving a finger at my dress. “No one actually believes that, girl. No man dresses a woman like that for protection.” There was a smirk in her eyes that suggested she knew exactly what he planned to do instead.
“The prince has the stronghold’s business to attend to. I have a room in a different part of the palace.” Or so I assumed. I wasn’t actually sure where his rooms were, since I’d been barred from them.