Chapter 36
I didn’t eat.
The same maid who’d slipped the locket to me brought in my tray. She didn’t say anything, but she looked at me so intensely, I knew she was trying to convey some sort of message. When she put the tray down, she dropped another tiny scroll into my lap. I quickly covered it with my napkin and looked at her to let her know I understood. I didn’t understand, not entirely, but I instinctively knew I needed to trust this woman.
Logically, there was no reason for me to trust her. Logically, I should be calling for the guards and having her dragged away, but…
I couldn’t shake the feeling that I knew her, and not just in passing. The maid wasn’t familiar because I’d seen her around the palace. The palace garb did not sit well on her. She looked uncomfortable in it, like it was unfamiliar. No, I knew her from before. There was a big, black, gaping hole in my memory that hadn’t been there before. I didn’t remember how I came here to Querencia. I didn’t know what happened to my parents. My father was dead, I knew that, but what I didn’t know was how or why. Elil said my mother killed him but that didn’t feel right. He said my mother had tried to kill me too, which was why I couldn’t remember anything, but that didn’t feel right either.
Whoever the maid was, she had the answers I needed. I would trust her for now.
Greta watched me like a hawk. I pretended to sip my tea and sighed appreciatively like it was exactly what I needed. I nibbled at the porridge and used my napkin to spit it out without swallowing when Greta looked away for a moment. My mind raced. I needed to get Greta out of the room so I could read the note.
I gasped, and Greta looked at me worriedly.
‘What is it, Princess?’ she asked, her brow furrowed.
‘I don’t have anything to give to the prince,’ I replied. ‘He has given me so much, and I…I have nothing to give him.’ I slumped in the bed, sinking back against the pillows and staring out the window.
‘I’m sure Prince Elil doesn’t expect anything from you,’ Greta said. ‘You are his prize, after all.’
Those words grated against my mind. I was his prize. It made me shudder, and I tried to cover the involuntary movement with a sob. Crying was a little over the top, but I was a bride on her wedding day—I could get away with a few tears, surely.
I sniffed. ‘But…but I feel so…I should…he deserves…’ Even I didn’t know what I was trying to say. I was just saying nonsense things while my sluggish brain tried to find a solution.
‘Roses,’ I said, blinking and looking up at Greta. ‘He likes roses, doesn’t he?’
Greta looked at me blankly.
‘I mean, we met in the rose garden,’ I said. ‘And he smells of roses. Is there a rose garden in the palace? Would they allow me to have one stem? I know it’s not much, but if he understands that it is coming from my heart, maybe…’
When Greta looked sceptical, I slumped again and pretended to sniffle.
‘You’re right,’ I said. ‘I just feel like such a terrible bride. I have nothing to give him. I have nothing to show him how much I love him.’
She still didn’t get the hint. Subtlety wasn’t working. I began to sob in earnest.
‘What…am…I…going…to…do…?’ I wailed.
Greta looked panicked now.
She rushed to me. ‘Shh,’ she hushed, patting my hand. ‘Shush now, or you’ll upset him.’
I sniffed, still crying but a little softer now.
‘Greta, you have to help me. How can I marry him without giving him a token of our love?’ I practically choked on the last word, but luckily it came across as a sob.
Greta sighed, and after a long hesitation she spoke. ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘I’ll go and get a rose from somewhere.’
‘A pink one,’ I said, brightening. ‘Pale pink, like that dress he gave me.’ The dress I secretly despised.
She looked vexed but nodded. ‘Eat your breakfast, and I’ll be back.’
I nodded and scooped a big spoonful of porridge out of the bowl. Greta, satisfied that I would eat, turned and fled from the room on her way to find me a pale pink rose. I didn’t know how long I had, but it was something.
I dropped the spoon back into the bowl without eating any of it and grabbed the tiny scroll from where I’d hidden it in my lap. Fingers shaking, I unrolled it and read the familiar script:
Don’t eat or drink anything. There is a drug in the food and drink. It stops you from remembering. We also think the gems and music might be having an effect on you. Open the windows and clear out the scent in the room. It could be clouding your mind too.
Love,
~P~
I should be shocked and appalled. I should be disbelieving about this information, but a memory stirred in my brain. I knew this information already. I knew it and had forgotten it or…or the memory had purposely been suppressed.
I pulled the pendent out from beneath my bodice and opened it, looking at the single rose petal within. It seemed wrong that I had a connection with P via this rose petal and also a connection to Elil through roses. It was why I had asked Greta to get a pink rose. Red was P’s colour.
I quickly hid the new scroll in the pendent with the other scroll and the rose petal. It was a tight fit, but the locket closed with a satisfying snap with a bit of effort. I slipped it back down into my bodice. It was the only place that I was sure no one would find it.
My legs felt wobbly as I got out of bed, and it took me a moment to steady myself. Then, with shaking hands, I disposed of my breakfast and tea, hoping I didn’t do too much damage to the poor plants that were inflicted with the tainted food.
I crossed to the heavy drapes and opened them wide, letting the bright sunshine into the room. I forced open the windows, which was not an easy thing to do. It seemed they had been purposely jammed shut. I leaned out of the opening and breathed in. There was no scent of roses or sandalwood, but there was a distinct odour of garbage. I wrinkled my nose but didn’t withdraw. The heavy scent inside my room had become cloying and I honestly preferred the smell of rubbish. I closed my eyes and just breathed. It took a minute, but then I noticed just how quiet it was. The note had mentioned music, but I honestly hadn’t really heard it. Now, with my head out of the window, I noticed the lack of it.
The silence was strange. It was at odds to the supposed celebration of a wedding. Shouldn’t there be revelry in the streets? Shouldn’t the people of the village around the palace be celebrating the glorious festival of their prince’s impending nuptials?
There was nothing. I opened my eyes and couldn’t see a soul. Where was everyone?
‘Princess!’ Greta cried.
I pulled myself back inside and smiled at Greta. ‘What?’
Her face was pale. ‘What…what were you doing?’
‘I was just looking,’ I replied, turning back to the window, but not leaning out. ‘I feel like I haven’t seen anything of Querencia, and I was curious.’ I turned back to her. ‘Where is everybody? I thought the entire town would be celebrating.’
Greta hesitated, looking me over, but avoiding my eyes. ‘They’re all busy working,’ she replied with a huff before stooping to pick up the rose she had fetched for me. ‘Here.’
I took the proffered flower and smiled my thanks. It was a terrible specimen. Limp stem, drooping leaves, and dry, brittle petals. This was not a fresh rose from the garden. This looked like it had been part of a floral arrangement that had seen better days. It was a fitting gift for my groom.
‘Thank you,’ I replied, gazing at the rose like it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. ‘I’m sure the prince will adore it.’
The room was full of people again, and they were not as gentle with me as they had been previously. I didn’t know if it was because I was slowly coming out of the fugue I had been in or if they were annoyed at me for interrupting them earlier.
The fog in my head was slowly receding…too slowly. I still didn’t remember anything, or at least I remembered nothing of consequence. I didn’t know who P was, but there was something inside that reassured me trusting him was the right thing to do. How did I know he was a he? P could very well be the woman who had slipped me the note, but I didn’t think so.
Something hard and cold was pressed into my hand, and I searched the sea of faces to find her. I knew it was the woman from earlier, even if I hadn’t seen her approach. The object was a knife, or a dagger, I supposed. I didn’t look down to confirm. The hilt fit into my palm comfortably, and I managed to slip the blade up under the long sleeves of my gown. It was easier than I’d expected. No one was actually paying any attention to me; all they were interested in was the dress. My hair was twisted and pinned, and my face was powdered, but the actions of the women made me feel like nothing more than a doll. I wasn’t a person to them.
It would have been offensive if it didn’t benefit me. Their inattention allowed me to conceal the weapon and then surprisingly, another weapon as well. This time, the woman winked at me as she melted back into the crowd. It wasn’t long before I felt something else being wrapped around my ankle, and it took all my resolve not to flinch at the touch. The woman was strapping something—another weapon, I assumed—to my leg under the voluminous skirts I wore. I was expecting it when I felt the soft touch on my other leg as well.
I now had access to four weapons. I didn’t know how to use them, but I assumed as long as the pointy end was facing away from me and at the enemy, I couldn’t go wrong.
The metal of the blade against the skin of my forearm was comforting. It wasn’t the same warmth that radiated from the pendent against my chest, but it was another touchstone. It helped keep me grounded and in the here and now when my mind threatened to fade away.
I hadn’t eaten anything and had so far avoided any of the tea Greta kept trying to ply me with, but I couldn’t do anything about the scent and the music. I tried to breathe through my mouth…I didn’t know if it was the smell that had the drugging effect or whatever was in the air. If the latter, then breathing through my mouth would be of no help, but it at least gave me a sense of control. I was doing something instead of just standing there and letting it happen to me.
The thought felt revelatory. How long had I been standing still and letting my life happen to me? I had vague memories of my past, before coming to the castle, or at least what I thought were my memories. They were filled with Elil, and I couldn’t help but question the validity of them. Were they real? Or had they been planted in my mind while I had been under the influence of…of what? Was it a drug? Or was it something else? Something more sinister?
And why?
Why me?
‘Stop frowning,’ one of the women said.
I blinked and looked at her. She was standing in front of me with a brush poised. She wasn’t looking at my eyes but at the point between my eyes. Why didn’t anyone look at me in the eyes?
After a moment’s hesitation, I smoothed my forehead and relaxed my face into a pleasant smile. I was sure I looked like an idiot, but the woman was placated, and the brush came down onto my face, none too lightly.
The woman who had taken charge of dressing me stepped up and placed a tiara on my head, pinning it in place with force. I tried not to wince as the pins scraped against my scalp. The crown felt heavy, but it was more than the weight of gold and jewels.
‘There,’ she said.
Everyone stopped and, as if they had choreographed it, they all stepped back from me. The head maid inspected me from head to foot and then circled me slowly, examining me from every angle. I tried not to fidget under her gaze and prayed she wouldn’t notice the two daggers sheathed in my sleeves.
I could stab her right now. Not to kill her, but to cause enough of a distraction that I could escape…
I couldn’t escape. There were too many people in the room and then there were the guards outside my door. I could run for the window, but I doubted I would survive the fall from the balcony.
I caught the eye of that woman—I wish I knew her name—and she narrowed her eyes at me before giving me an almost imperceptible shake of her head. Could she read my mind? She nodded slowly, and the corner of her mouth ticked up in the slightest of smiles. How? I widened my eyes at her, and she shrugged, although to anyone else it would have looked more like a small twitch.
‘It’s perfect,’ the head maid said.
It’s perfect? Not she’s perfect but it?
Now I really wanted to stab her.
Did the other woman just grin? Did she just mouth ‘me too,’ to me?
I had so many questions, but there was no way to get the answers until I got myself out of this predicament. I knew P said he was going to rescue me but…but I hated the thought I needed to be rescued. Sure, I could use some help, but I also needed to be proactive. I had been too complaisant. I needed to take control of my life for once…maybe even for the first time.