Thirty-One - Mina
Thirty-One
Mina
???
The morning of the ball passed in excruciating slowness. Sam and Noel had agreed to be on the lookout for Alan. Jacob stayed with me as I circulated among the other men invited to the palace. Most of my guests were in a room similar to the green parlor, only larger. They mingled, played cards, and tried to secure my attention. I had done my best to be social, but eventually had retreated to a corner, where Jacob and I moved pieces on a chessboard, though anybody who watched closely would realize we weren’t actually playing.
Even receiving a note from the constables, informing me that the son had provided them enough information to locate Gerald Powell and arrest him, didn’t significantly lift my mood. I wanted Powell to face justice for his crimes, but it didn’t reverse time. The damage was already done.
Jacob tried to cheer me, then just to distract me. He told me stories of the various things he had seen on his travels, but nothing held my interest. Not the dragons in the Gaboor Mountains, nor the violent cyclones off the southern coast. Not his tale of fleeing a village after a simple misunderstanding spiraled out of control, nor his report of the strange customs of the Elsivein Isles.
“I think I might make my way there next and see if the rumors are true,” Jacob told me, picking up a game piece of carved jade— though I vaguely thought jade had been my color to begin. He didn’t wait for a response. “Of course, to get to Elsivein, a ship has to travel through the worst of the cyclone range. Maybe I should go to Thierrol first. There’s a node locked to weather-reading there. I’ve heard the family tied to the node can see the cyclone paths over the entire ocean.”
I lifted a carnelian pawn and forced myself to respond. “There was only a single girl, not a family, when I visited Thierrol years ago. She must have been an orphan, and the entire town took responsibility for her, since she was the last of her line.”
“A child?”
“Well, not anymore. She was probably about my age, so she’d be an adult by now.”
Though I managed to continue the conversation with Jacob for a few more minutes, my thoughts remained on Alan and what I would do if he didn’t come to the palace.
Then, suddenly, I had my answer. I had given Alan time, but after everything else that had happened, I couldn’t assume that his absence meant he’d never forgive me. In fact, I might have made a mistake giving him as much time as I had. He needed to know that I would fight for him.
“I’ll go to Skorsa,” I said, taking Jacob completely by surprise.
His brow furrowed. “Now?”
I bit my lip. I wanted to. But I knew I couldn’t leave. “Tomorrow. If Alan doesn’t come to the ball, then I’ll ride to Skorsa first thing tomorrow.” I stood up. “Thanks for the game.”
Jacob looked at the board in bemusement. “You are welcome, but where are you going?”
“To chat with the others. I need to make sure my mother can’t find fault with my behavior today if I am to have any hope of getting out of the palace tomorrow.”
???
The rest of the morning and early afternoon passed more quickly. Having made a decision to act helped. I was still worried that Alan hadn’t come to the palace, but it wasn’t as overwhelming. I no longer had to rely on optimism alone. If he didn’t come to me, I’d go to him. Realizing that I didn’t have to stay passive, that there was a difference between giving him space and abandoning him, helped. Though I wish I’d had my epiphany a week earlier so that I could have gone to Skorsa before the ball.
Eventually, it was time to begin my preparations for the ball. For the past three days, I had mostly worn gowns from the working portion of my wardrobe, but tonight I could be nothing less than Crown Princess Charmina. I couldn’t fade into the background at the ball—not that my other dresses had helped me fade among my guests.
Tonight, every eye would be on me.
Mistress Dawes had done wonders with my gown. The bodice and overskirt were made of a shimmering silk somewhere between sapphire and midnight, with wide bands of gold embroidery sparkling at the cuffs, neckline, and hem. Pearls lined the fabric where it split over a ruffled underskirt in blush pink. The stomacher was made with the same pink silk, overlaid with lace made of gold thread and studded with more pearls.
My maid wove matching silk ribbons through my hair as she piled it atop my head in one of the elaborate coiffures I usually avoided. She added pink roses and a bit of the same gold lace to finish the style. Then she pulled out the necklace my father had gifted me for the occasion—though I was certain my mother had chosen the piece. Made of gold, it was the same collar design that had sent me to Alan’s forge the first time. Unlike the necklace I had brought to Skorsa, this one was made of only one type of gold and widened in the center, stretching down past my collarbone before tapering to a point in a gentle curve. Hanging from the tip, a large sapphire sparkled just above the neckline of my gown .
A bracelet made of alternating sapphires and diamonds went on my wrist, and more dangled from my ears, but I refused the matching ring. My rose ring was enough.
My maid stepped back and sighed. “You are beautiful, Your Highness.”
“That is all your doing, Anna. Thank you.”
My maid left, and I moved out to my sitting room, but didn’t leave my suite. Though guests would be arriving in droves, I still had time before I was expected to make my appearance.
A sudden knock on my door made me frown. I glanced at the clock once more. I was not late.
I opened the door and both Sam and Noel barged into my room without hesitation.
My heart beat faster.
“A servant just delivered this to me,” Sam announced, holding out a simple wooden box. He shoved it into my hands when I didn’t react fast enough. “It had a note asking me to make sure you got it before the ball started.”
I stared at the box, not quite daring to open it.
Noel bounced on the balls of his feet. “Come on, Mina.”
I slid the top of the box off. A simple piece of paper, folded in half, sat atop a bed of wood shavings. I unfolded the note and read.
Coming to Haiwella to make golden bonnets would be pointless if I couldn’t also see you. Besides, I decided after a bit more thought that you were right (of course). Golden slippers are a better trend to start.
There was no signature, but I didn’t need one. Alan had read my letters, in which I not only apologized and tried to explain myself, but had begged him not to let my mistake keep him from living the life he deserved. In the letter inviting him to the ball, I had specifically said that even if he never wanted to see me again, I wanted to see his golden bonnets—and whatever else he decided to make—take the capital by storm .
I refolded the paper and tucked it against the side of the box. Smiling so wide my cheeks hurt, I brushed aside the wooden shavings. I pushed the box into Noel’s hands and lifted out the two slippers.
Sam and my brother gasped.
I turned one slipper this way and that, taking it all in. In place of silk, a thin sheet of gold molded over the leather sole to create the shape of a shoe. The heel was made of dark wood polished to a glossy finish, and I remembered what Alan had said about gold being too soft. Just as well; I couldn’t imagine how Alan had afforded the materials for the slipper even without a solid gold heel.
Flattened bits of gold wire twisted together in an intricate, elongated knot, forming a strap to secure the slipper at the ankle, with a matching strap farther down as well. A chain of gold and rose gold, reminding me of the necklace I had given Sam’s mother, dangled between the two straps and between the lower strap and the toe of the shoe. Tiny roses made from the pink gold and exactly matching my ring made buttons where the straps attached to the rest of the shoe.
I ran a finger along the cool metal. Alan hadn’t stopped there. Incredibly thin pieces of wire embossed the surface of the shoe at random intervals in the shape of more roses, and nearly invisible swirls ran in between in imitations of vines.
Noel whistled. “That is quite the slipper.”
Sam took one of the shoes from me. “I have never heard of golden slippers as a betrothal gift.”
I blushed. “It’s not a betrothal gift. It is a reference to a conversation Alan and I had early on.”
Noel clucked his tongue. “If these aren’t his betrothal gift, then I’m not sure I want to see what is.”
“It’s not . . . he didn’t . . .”
Both men shook their heads, the motion eerily alike. Sam handed back the slipper he had taken. “He might not have written the words in his letter, but I think his intentions are clear. ”
Noel cocked his head to the side. “Do you think they are wearable?”
I dropped both slippers in the box my brother still held and rested one hand on Sam for balance, kicking back my left foot until I could reach my silk slipper. Pulling it off, I took one golden slipper from the box and slipped it on. The bit of chain that secured the ends of the straps to the rose buttons dangled loose, but the slipper fit perfectly.
I grabbed the other one and hurried over to the settee. Sitting carefully, I secured the straps on the first slipper and donned the second. When I looked up, Noel stood in front of me, holding out a hand. I accepted his help and stood.
Now I was ready for the ball.