Chapter 18
Midnight came and went by the time we reached Castle Altaigne, but the queen insisted on our return. Evidently, there was business to attend to in the morning, and she did not wish to offend her distant family by staying only for one night.
By morning, I could hardly rouse myself. Winnie brought tea to help, then began laying out the wardrobe for the day. Recalling my deal with Angharad, I shook my head and pointed to the Hadrian chest.
“No.” I yawned, my breath making waves over the tinted drink. “The burgundy ensemble.”
Winnie’s shoulders slumped. “My lady, Angharad is a bold woman. She’s not shy of offending others when it might amuse her, but she would never deliberately upset the queen.”
I huffed. “Come on. We’ll accessorize it, make it acceptable, and if my friend does participate, as she stated she would, I will merely need to disassemble until we match.”
Winnie set the dress down and crossed her arms.
“I think you’re putting too much trust in your friend. Dealing with Percy might have been favorable to her. For all you know, it’s all a fabrication meant to help her get rid of a political enemy.”
“Forgive me, Winnie. I didn’t take you for the suspicious type.” I grimaced, slipping out of my shift and into the flattering gown. “Why the sudden hatred for Angharad? You were the one who worried that I would upset her by avoiding her presence.”
“I do not hate the woman! Gods, do you think me some jealous wench?” asked Winnie. “I’m suggesting temperance, Alana. You cannot rush a friendship with a courtier, it will only leave allowance for manipulation.”
“You and I are friends.”
Winnie groaned, balling her hands into fists. “Put your trust into Lady Angharad and see that your amity is fragile as glass. You did not grow up in court, my lady; you do not know what these people will do for the chance to humiliate one another.”
Something ugly bubbled up inside of me until it reached a peak that I could no longer contain.
I snapped, my nose crinkling into a snarl.
“Oh, woe is me, I’m the stupid girl from the forest!
I am na?ve and ripe for taking advantage of!
I cannot think for myself!” Winnie flinched at the volume of my shout.
I lowered my voice, but kept my venom. “Go and fetch my handmaidens. They will dress me today, if you will not.”
Winnie softened, lowering her eyes. She didn’t move for several moments, carefully considering her next course of action. Then, she came over and helped me, adding furs and swaths of lace to bring some semblance of modesty to the gown.
“I only wished to look out for you,” Winnie said quietly. “But I shall be here, even if my fear comes to fruition.”
“It won’t,” I insisted, but my bitterness had lessened. I didn’t know why I’d been so defensive; I almost apologized, the words lingering on the tip of my tongue before I chose silence. I might have been wrong for yelling, but Winnie had pressed me into it.
My self-assurance didn’t stop the anxiety on our walk to the dining hall.
I hadn’t given due consideration to the possibility of Angharad’s betrayed promise—the woman had even given herself an out.
“If Trefor allows me to leave the bed,” she’d said.
She could sit out dinner in her room and not be a liar.
I tried not to show the worry on my face, focusing more on the occasional turning head as we walked. Delicious disapproval wore itself plainly in the women’s glares, and they couldn’t say a word about it because of station. Sometimes it felt good to take advantage of the situation I often resented.
“Lady Alana, dear.”
I stopped at the peak of the stairs, finding Florence as she swept nearer in a long, velvet gown. It was unfittingly colorful, like a rose blooming in winter.
“What do you think?” she asked, twirling her dress. “Am I convincingly wholesome and pure of heart?”
“Lady Florence,” said Winnie, “you must cease the condescension.”
Florence blinked. “Condescension?”
We descended the stairs, and Winnie continued. “When you call someone ‘dear’, it comes across as infantilizing.”
“I only mean it with affection. Is this abnormal in Gallae?” asked Florence. “You refer to her by her given name.”
Winnie opened her mouth to make a counterpoint, but could evidently think of nothing more to say and chose the wiser path of silence.
As we closed in on the dining hall, I held my breath. If I was wrong about Angharad, I’d be spending a whole meal next to Winnie, who would undoubtedly serve a hearty portion of I-told-you-so.
We were among the first to enter; Duke Minnick and Percy were the only others present, but the latter’s eyes latched onto me with magnetism, fixed irreverently on my gown until I found a seat.
“I don’t like that one,” Florence whispered, sitting to the right of Winnie.
I pinched my lips together, then watched the entrance for more newcomers.
One by one, they arrived—Lady Maeve Halston and her husband, Lord Davis Halston; Huntmaster Hugh Simon and Lady Diamond Simon; the prince, who took one look at me before turning away, and the viscount, who angrily crossed the dining hall to stand before me.
“You departed in secret,” he scolded, crossing his arms over his doublet. His eyes were severe as he leaned close. “Don’t do that again. If I’m not outside your door, then knock on mine.”
I hesitantly nodded, glancing over to Winnie. She kept her nose up and refrained from making eye contact.
The viscount noticed my outfit shortly after. His scowl gave into a wry smile and he shook his head, saying nothing more before finding his seat.
At last, the queen entered, sat down, and examined the room. She waved for the meal to begin, then double-took back at me, drawing a quiet, sharp breath. I thought she might say something and prepared myself for the worst.
“Mother,” whispered Nicolas, but something stopped him there.
Marquis Trefor Tharon stood in the entrance, patting his noticeably reddened face with a handkerchief. His salt-and-pepper hair had been tousled, and his mustache was slightly ajar; beside him stood his wife in Hadrian clothing, her makeup smeared.
Angharad sheepishly glanced my way, then shuffled with her husband until they found their seats at the opposing table.
The queen held her tongue, possibly at her son’s behest, and the meal went on with little in the way of conversation…yet much was said in the shifting of stares, the enlarging of eyes, the unspoken judgment, and the sorority of Angharad’s upheld promise.
Once the meal ended, I went to her and pulled her into a hug. She smelled of sweat and something male that she’d attempted to mask with perfume and powder.
“Thank the gods,” I whispered. “I was worried I had asked something impossible of you.”
Angharad scoffed. “My husband swore he’d never let me go out like this.”
“Whatever did you do to change his mind? You must tell me your secret.”
The most devious of grins spread over Angharad’s lips, and I quickly retracted my statement.
Before a single, lascivious detail could spill—and by the foul gesture she performed with her finger, I knew it would be quite the scandal—the other court ladies gathered around.
I was certain that they’d all looked disgusted, maybe even horrified, but now…
“Absolutely daring!” Lady Diamond spoke, placing a hand over her chest as if to withhold from fainting. “Never before have I seen such a statement! It says… Why, it says—”
“Power!” joined Lady Maeve. “It says, ‘I am above the reproach of lesser men and women.’”
Similar praises washed over us both from other ladies of the court, the men making themselves small and disappearing as swiftly as they could. Even the prince departed, though he lingered a while as if he had something to say; I pretended I didn’t notice him.
The final men to remain were Quinn, by necessity as my guardsman, and Percy, who took his time nursing his wine. He appeared to be amused by some internal monologue, and when he took the last sip, he stood so that his chair screamed against the floor, pulling all eyes to him.
“If this commoner had shown up in such clothing on her first day here, you would have torn her to shreds.” Percy’s voice dripped with derision. “Women are such fickle things, are they not, Lady of the Woods?”
I bit my tongue, but he wasn’t entirely wrong.
They most certainly would have disapproved of this dress under different circumstances.
If Angharad hadn’t acted in solidarity, they might still have turned their noses up at me.
All of their compliments and praise diluted into what they truly were: flattery.
When Percy reached the doorway, he turned back with a cold smile. “It is amazing how long a farce can continue when everyone pretends not to see it for what it really is. Though all plays must end eventually.”
“Percy,” Quinn warned from his seat.
Percy put up his hands, then left me to ruminate on the threat.
Lady Maeve stepped into my line of vision, saying something to try and ease the tensions, but her breath was wasted.
All I could hear was a white hot scream in the back of my mind; these women were only humoring me, as Percy had brilliantly exposed.
I excused myself with a bow and made my way back to Winnie and Florence. A new weight settled on my shoulders.
“Perhaps Lady Alana would like to speak with me in my chambers?” Florence asked, looking to Winnie for signs of disapproval. She found none, for once. “My lady, you’re troubled. Come, let me share your burden.”