“I said I would take care of it,” the male says again, the words softer and yet even more terrifying than when he was yelling. Everything about him coveys menace: the clench of his jaw and squint of his eyes, the wayhe repeatedly opens and closes his fists and leans into his mother’s space.
But as far as I can tell, she isn’t the least bit afraid. In fact, the only emotion I can feel bubbling under the surface of this woman’s skin is unadulterated rage. “You spoiled fool,” she seethes. “You can’t go around ki—”
My eyes flutter open. I’m in that massive bedroom in the palace. I was mindwalking, again. Dammit. This is why mother didn’t want me here. A witch who can dreamwalk is fine, a witch who can climb into a waking mind when she’s sleeping is tinder for the pyre.
Even if I have no idea how I do it.
There’s a light tapping at my door. I sit up. Is that what woke me? “Yes,” I answer.
“Hello, Mistress Valstrad. May I come in?”
“Uh… Yes,” I say. Wait, didn’t I lock it?
The door creaks open and a female with dark hair pulled into a bun pokes her head inside.
“I’m Merida,” she says, slipping a key—connected to a ring fitted with so many keys I don’t know how she could possibly keep them straight—from the lock and dropping the entire thing into the pocket of her apron.
So much for privacy.
Merida steps the rest of the way into the room and closes the door behind her. She’s wearing a black dress and white apron like the girl from my dream, but that’s where the similarity ends. Whereas the maid from my dream was fair and delicate, this female is stockier with sun-kissed skin, ash-brown hair and a pleasantsmile that is much preferable to the terror-stricken expression of her coworker. “I’m here to get you ready for dinner,” she says.
It’s dinnertime already. Gods. How long did I sleep? I shake my head in an effort to dislodge the image of that poor girl. It never ceases to amaze me how my magic somehow always picks out the worst possible situation to observe. It’s not like I can do anything to affect the events I see, so what is the point? I scrub the sleep from my eyes and scoot across the mattress until my feet hang off the edge of the bed. “Why would I need help getting ready for dinner?”
Merida gives me a warm smile. “The queen and prince will be in attendance, so all are expected to look their very best.”
Morgana, take me. I’ve hardly had a moment to breathe and already I have to contend with the royal family. I suppress the urge to groan and slip off the bed. The floor is chilly against my bare feet, and I curl my toes in as though that will save them from the cold, when all it really does is make me look like a waddling duck as I cross the room. “Good luck with this hair,” I say, gesturing to the rat’s nest currently residing on my head.
Merida chuckles. “It’s fine. Trust me when I say I’ve dealt with much, much worse.” She gestures toward the mahogany vanity, and I take a seat.
She opens my vanity chest, pulls out a brush and gets to work. It’s nice, having someone else battle my hair for a change. Merida’s touch is gentle as she pulls the brush through my dark waves, careful not to pull too hard at any tangles. I’m enjoying the pull and tug against my scalp, on the verge of falling back asleep when she speaks again. “Your eyes are remarkable. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that color before.”
“The unintended consequence of a tryst between a talented Duje witch and a human with truly unfortunate coloring.” I smile, hoping she’ll catch the joke.
“Well, they’re lovely,” she says.
“Thanks.” I clear my throat, feeling a little uncomfortable with the compliment. “So, Merida, what’s it like living in the palace?”
“I grew up here, so it’s just home to me, though my room is not nearly as nice as this one.”
“What about the royal family? I hear the prince is quite handsome.” I give her a wide-eyed excited look and bunch my shoulders cutely. Hopefully, she’ll take me for the daft, boy-crazy girl Leodin wants me to play and not someone fishing for information.
She pauses her brushing for a moment—whether she’s shocked by my question or simply focused on coming up with how to answer, I can’t say—but when she does speak, there’s a wariness in her tone that wasn’t there before. “I honestly don’t have the opportunity to interact with them very much. I mostly stick to the third floor and the royal family’s rooms are on the fourth.” She points to the ceiling, then returns to wrangling my hair. “From what I’ve heard, the queen is tough but fair and the princess is truly lovely. Everyone adores her.”
It does not escape my notice that one member of the royal family has been conveniently left out. “And the prince?” I ask. Nowthisis the sort of gossip I’ve been looking for.
Merida glances over her shoulder, as though she’s expecting eavesdroppers to jump out from behind the curtains at any moment. She opens her mouth, then closes it. “He’s… Fine. Good. Everything you’d expect a prince to be.”
Well, that’s a sham response if I’ve ever heard one, but I can’t expect her to divulge palace secrets to someone she’s only just met, so I let her off easy and change the subject.
“So, any thoughts on what I should wear tonight? I’ve never attended a dinner with the royal family before.”
Her shoulders visibly droop in relief. “The dress has already been picked out for you. It will arrive shortly.”
I sit up at that. A new dress. Like the beautiful ones the ladies wore at the market. “Really?” I say, barely containing my excitement.
Merida’s eyes crinkle as she smiles at me. “Yes. Principal Valstrad said you needed to mesh with the local style, so he had a number of dresses purchased for your stay.”
I clap my hands in excitement. “I’ve never had a new dress.”
