CHAPTER 9
My hands were balled into tight fists as I stomped back through the palace. Gaggles of babbling nobles clogged up the hallways like mud in a stream, but I shoved past them without a second thought. It’d only been five minutes since my exchange with the prince in the gardens, and yet the longer I thought about it, the more I wanted to force my fists through each one of the gaudy portraits on the walls. How dare he humiliate me in that way?
Perhaps I should find a ‘Curty’. I’d find the handsomest guard and parade him around the grounds, too. We’d see how much the prince appreciated that. I’d make sure he was taller, with nicer hair, and eyes that reminded me of a forest in the golden afternoon sun. If I kissed him, perhaps Lukas would throw a fit so hysterical it would knock his crown off. That would be glorious. And I’d make sure to do it in front of all of his pompous friends. News of his tantrum would spread through the Steel Palace like a wildfire.
I veered around another gold-beamed corner, then stopped suddenly – confusion washing away the storm of anger in my mind. I was certain I’d been down this corridor already. Those particular metal beams seemed suspiciously familiar. But I didn’t recognise the portraits that lined the walls. Or did I? They all had the same ornate frames and their subjects all had the same pouty, solemn look.
Pacing down the hallway, I kept my head held high as I passed more servants and guards. If I could just at least find my way to the royal dining hall, then maybe I would start to make sense of this all.
“Please settle down, my lady!” a flustered woman’s voice echoed from a nearby passageway, followed by a low, wailing cry. “You’ll hurt yourself if you keep thrashing like that. It’s not safe for you to be out here.”
“Stay back, you foul wretch!” someone else snarled, but they sounded so afraid – more like a wounded animal than a woman. I knew I should’ve stuck to my path and continued on my way back through the palace, but curiosity got the better of me. Quickly, and without any more doubt, I darted down the corridor, following the sounds of their heated conversation.
“I said stay back!” the same woman yelped again.
My skirts whirled as I rounded another corner. Then, just as I burst into another grand hallway, my racing legs froze. Several servants surrounded a trembling woman as she cowered with her back pressed against an arched window. Her long, wispy hair was whiter than frost, and her thin, skeleton-like body was barely covered in an ivory nightgown. There was something almost inhuman about her face, too. Her cheeks were hollow, and her pale irises appeared to mimic glass – such unbearably fragile glass.
“Please, my lady,” one of the servants closest to her began. She held out her palms in a soothing manner. “Please let us take you back to your chambers. We don’t want to upset His Majesty by having you wandering the palace again.”
The trembling woman scowled, then spat on the floor. “Come closer, wretch, and I’ll show you what I think of His Majesty,” she growled.
It didn’t surprise me that the King had enemies – I was sure all kings did. But why did he keep this one tucked away in his palace, attended by servants and dressed in an expensive lace-trimmed nightgown?
“Elowen?”
I bristled at the sound of my mother’s name. Snapping my attention to the scene, I noticed the trembling woman’s glassy eyes had locked onto me. As she stared, the servants whipped their heads around to where I was standing. Suddenly, I felt barely inches tall as their glares pierced into me like a dozen loosed arrows.
“You shouldn’t be here, my lady,” someone, I’m assuming the head servant, addressed me sharply.
“Sorry, I—” I stammered. Then, as if realising what had just been said, I glanced back at the woman by the window. “Wait… How do you know my mother’s name?”
“Your mother?” the woman repeated, looking more confused than afraid now. “No, no, my dear, look at you. Are you not well? You are Elowen.” She pushed herself away from the wall and moved towards me, the servants stepping aside to let her pass. I shivered as she stopped only inches from my face. There was something so cold about her. “Do you not remember?” She grinned eagerly. “We used to run along the beach together. You and I… I’d tie seashells in your hair, just like my sisters did for me.” She curled her fingers around a blonde ringlet that hung by my face. “Such pretty, pretty hair.”
Behind her, a servant stepped forward. “My lady I really must insist—”
“I’m sorry,” I went on, taking no notice of our audience, “but I’m really not Elowen. My name is Naria. Elowen is my mother. Were the two of you friends?”
“Naria,” the woman echoed. She ignored my question as she let the name rest on her pale tongue. “Elowen’s little girl. I’m so sorry… I’m tired. So very tired. And I fear I am seeing things. Elowen is dead.” The words made my heart ache. “So dead. Very dead. So very, very dead,” she muttered mindlessly to herself.
“Come, my lady. Let’s get you back to your chambers now.” The servant who stepped forward gently took the woman’s wrist.
“So tired, but I cannot rest,” she muttered again. “Elowen is dead, so I cannot rest.”
“Wait,” I said, calling after her. “Did my mother help you before? She was a healer. Did she give you medicine?”
A wisp of recognition drifted across the woman’s hollow face. “Yes…” she replied breathily. “Dear Elowen would give me powder to help me sleep after… after…” Her words trailed off into several sharp intakes of breath.
“Damn the realm, it’s happening again,” the head servant panicked. “Quick, girls, let’s get her back to bed!”
The servants flew into motion to manoeuvre the woman, who was now struggling to breathe through deep, unwavering sobs. She was in such a state, her pale cheeks now red and puffy from the overwhelming panic. I tried to reach forward and comfort her, but the servants brushed my hands away. It was so hard to hold back my own tears. I had felt raw, consuming panic like this many times before. Thankfully, I’d always had my friends to support me, but here, this poor woman only had the rough hands of servants who spared her little sympathy as they dragged her away.
“Wait!” I cried out again. “What is your name? I can make you the same powder. I know the recipe. I just need to know where to find you. Let me help you, like my mother did. Like Elowen did.”
After a few moments of resisting the servants’ manhandling, the woman’s gasps slowed enough to allow her to share her name. “Erissa,” she finally answered.
Something stirred within me. The name sounded so familiar… Why?
Then her lower lip trembled as she spoke through gritted teeth. “Have your servant deliver the powder to Erissa. Specifically, Queen Erissa of this damned kingdom.”
Queen Erissa? This hollow wisp of a woman was Queen Erissa? My jaw hit the floor.
“Tell no one of what you saw here, Your Highness,” the servant gripping the trembling queen’s arm warned. “The King will have all our heads if word of his wife’s condition spreads around the palace.”
“How long has she been like this?” I asked. I’d never treated mental wounds like this before, but perhaps there was something I could do to help.
The servant just shook her head. “Too long for any of your Corlixin potions to make a difference now. The best thing for her is bed rest.”
“Bed rest…” I repeated. “Then let me help with that. I’ll deliver the sleeping powder tomorrow. I can find the flowers I need in the palace grounds, and everything else is in my bedchamber. To make a batch won’t take long at all.”
Erissa stared up at me, rivers of glassy tears streaming down her cheeks. “Thank you, dear child. There is kindness in this damned place after all.”
The head servant flashed me one last pitiful look before hauling the Queen away.