Chapter 17 Dinner Invitation
Dinner Invitation
Caramyn
It was difficult to sleep without a blanket or even a thin sheet.
Every piece of cloth in the room had been used for the escape plan.
And Caramyn’s grumbling stomach only added to her discomfort.
She planned to devour breakfast once Azell brought it up.
As she lay there curled up on the bare mattress, she worried what the maid would say about the shattered window and her blankets that had been tied into a rope and were now a soiled bundle on the floor.
"Good morning, dear." Azell peeked in through a crack in the door.
"Good morning, Azell. Come in." A yawn carried Caramyn's words as she sat on the edge of her bed and the maid pushed the door open.
"Goodness, you are tattered! What happened to your clothes? And your bed?" Azell threw her hands up as she shrieked. She placed the breakfast tray she was carrying on the dresser and dashed across the room.
Caramyn sat in silence as the maid inspected the bed and empty wardrobe, the scent of fresh warm fruit preserves making her salivate. As Azell made her way to the broken window, she clicked her tongue.
"I can't blame you for trying to escape. He shouldn't have forced you to come here." She paused again, looking out the window into the sunlight. "The prince is desperate enough that sometimes I wonder if he's thinking clearly."
"Desperate to sit on the throne." Caramyn crossed her arms. Her words tasted like salt. “He just wants power like every other king and conqueror before him.”
"Well," Azell shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. He fears the weight of the crown, but trust me when I say I believe he is the one most fit to wear it. In his veins he carries both great bloodlines that ruled this land in duality for centuries. Asterious cannot change the things that have already passed at his father’s hand. But he can do something about the future.”
Caramyn huffed, not convinced, and shuffled over the tray of food, stuffing her mouth with a berry tart oozing a decadent filling that almost shimmered. Then popped a plump piece of starfruit into her mouth and washed it down with the creamiest milk she’d ever tasted.
Azell's dark eyes twinkled as she turned back toward Caramyn. "I’ve known him since he was just a young boy. He has a good heart underneath all that sternness."
Caramyn was surprised to hear such admiration for the prince.
All her life, he’d been spoken of as a demon—said to have refused the throne simply to remain the executioner.
Yet when he’d interrogated her, he’d implied that killing had never been his choice.
And timid Azell hardly seemed the sort to dote on a monster. None of it added up.
Caramyn fidgeted with her tangled hair, twisting it in both hands over her shoulder. Even if he wasn’t the demon they said he was, he was still a man. Best not to give him the benefit of the doubt. But she wouldn’t say that out loud to this tender woman.
Azell approached, her eyes fixated on Caramyn's tattered dress that was nearly reduced to rags from last night's endeavors.
She walked over to the dirty bedding and clothes on the floor and sorted through the pieces before gathering them up into a bundle in her arms. "Goodness you even ruined the dresses, too. "
"Thank you for taking care of everything Azell.” Caramyn offered a slight bow of her head. “When you have the chance, could you please bring back my breeches?"
"Yes, once they are cleaned. For now, I'll probably only be able to acquire more dresses, but I’ll try to dig up some pants in your size, too. Try to keep them in one piece.” She paused, glancing at the traces of crumbs left on Caramyn’s tray.
“Now that you’ve finished breakfast, let's get you into the bath.
I'll work on finding you something to wear. "
Caramyn had to fight back a smile at the thought of another hot bath. She had no intention of objecting to that. Moments later, the tub was ready, with hot steam swirling above the water like a welcoming mist. As Caramyn stood to undress, Azell let out a gasp. "Your shoulder!"
Caramyn had nearly forgotten about the gashes in her skin from the beast attack. The blood was dried and caked over them now, but the wound obviously fresh, and had caught Azell's attention.
"It's nothing. Just an accident from breaking the window," Caramyn uttered.
Azell stared hard at the cuts on her arm, walking even closer. As if she suddenly saw something horrific, her eyes widened, and she quickly averted her gaze. Keeping her head low, she simply walked out of the room, locking the door behind her.
As strange as it was, she returned shortly as if it had never happened, with a pile of clean blankets and a few dresses draped across her arms.
"I'll leave these here for you." She nodded at Caramyn with a smile and retreated again.
Nocthar flew into the room once she was gone and pecked the crumbs from her breakfast as Caramyn sank down into the warm tub. This time, she made sure not to fall asleep, as she didn't want to wake up to any more surprise visitors.
Once she finished, she selected a deep teal dress to wear.
She admired the delicate beadwork along the bodice, and the color reminded her of the great waters on the horizon beyond the cliffs.
The fitted sleeves were long enough to cover her marking, but an extra layer of fabric cascaded from her elbows, making her feel playful.
She'd never felt something so soft and lovely against her skin.
It was quite a boring day otherwise. She looked out the window, longing to be outside.
Unlike the stormy skies that had overtaken the night, the day was bright and cheery, but she could only enjoy it from her view from the tower.
She was glad she had broken the window, for now she could at least feel the autumn breeze.
If she had been in the Shadow Woods, she would have used a day like today for waxing her bowstring or digging up roots for her remedies, and if she had time, she might have read one of her books beneath a tree…
a book describing what she could not see beyond the forest. But here she was, behind new walls, looking out at world beyond her reach once more.
As she daydreamed out the window, trying to make out shapes in the clouds, there was a knock at her door. It was much firmer than Azell's gentle taps.
"Don't worry, I'm clothed this time!" She called, presuming it to be Asterious. In some peculiar part of her, she wanted it to be him. She was so bored that it would have relieved her to engage in some banter with him.
But instead, a vaguely familiar face appeared in the doorway. It was Tyrios, if she remembered correctly.
"Lady Caramyn." He cleared his throat, seeming a tad bit uncomfortable to be in her presence. "The prince has asked that you join him for dinner tonight."
Caramyn raised an eyebrow. She had not at all expected that. "Well, perhaps he should invite me himself instead of sending his men like servants to do it."
Tyrios wore an expression of bewilderment. He scratched his ear and looked around. "I'm sorry, Caramyn. He had every intention to do it himself…but he had something urgent come up." A long pause drew out the seconds in which Caramyn refused to answer. "So shall I tell him you will be ready at six?"
"No!" Caramyn scoffed. "Tell him I won’t be joining him for dinner or anything else for that matter, unless he can make his own appearance here to ask me himself." She turned away. "You may leave now."
Without another word, Tyrios was gone. It was less than an hour later that there was no knock at the door, but rather an aggressive turn of the key in the door's lock.
Caramyn thought to reach for the bone dagger she kept hidden, this time in the bodice of her dress, just in case.
It was her instinct to always have a weapon prepared, no matter the circumstance.
She stood facing the door as it swung open and her eyes locked with those of Prince Asterious'.