“But how does that work?” Prue looked around the hall in alarm. “How are the laws of propriety observed?”
“Don’t know that law.” Sparrow’s far coarser accent became apparent then. “Just the one of consent. That’s the only one that matters in the keep.”
“You know the keep well?” I asked Sparrow, and she smiled proudly in response.
“Born and raised here. Thought I was going to become a serving woman like my mother?—”
“Serving woman?”
A small crowd had clustered around us, but I found my eyes narrowing as some took a step backwards, and unfortunately I knew exactly why. We’d lived for hundreds of years under an absolute monarchy and as a result, there was a strict social hierarchy. The king first, then the princes, then the dukes of each of the four duchies of Nevermere, then lords like my father beneath that. Layers and layers of power and privilege, until you got to where most people were: the working class.
Of course, that was all usurped when the king turned from the ruler of the country to its ceremonial head. Our prime minister, the hero who lead the militia to protect Wyrmpeak when it was under surprise attack, was a man of the streets before becoming the most powerful political leader in the country.
“Your mother works at the keep?” I said, looking down at Sparrow with a smile. “Then you must know where everything is. The place is so much bigger than I expected. I’m sure I’d lose my way wandering just the bottom floor.”
“Stick with me, Fern and you’ll never get lost.” She linked arms with me and we shuffled forward as the women in front ofus were all signed in. “No one knows the keep better than me. Once you work out the lay of the land, I’ll show you the old servant tunnels.”
“Tunnels?” I asked.
“They were used in the old days when the Royal Riders were supposed to stay chaste. Some maids took pity on the men, if you know what I mean.” Her brows waggled rakishly. “The way I heard it?—”
“Did you see that great brute with the silver dragon?” A woman’s arch voice silenced all of us, announcing her presence as she walked into the room. Her question was directed at one of her two companions, yet said loudly enough all other conversation died. “Since when are dragons silver?”
“And his rider looks like the ghost of my cousin, the late Duke of Harlston?” This woman was tall with a long fall of dark brown hair. “I’m going to have to send a bird to Father and ask him if there’s any family members we’re unaware of.”
“You think that you and that rider could be related?” the third woman asked cautiously.
The dark haired woman tugged her fur stole closer.
“By the look of his armour, hardly.” She shot her companions a scathing smile. “Looked like it’d been cobbled together from a combination of offcuts and old saddles.” I hadn’t noticed that. Just the smell of him, musky and woody, the faint creak of the leather as his hands landed on my arms. “And anyway, its not silver dragons I’m here for, but gold.” With an imperious look around the room, she noted the line and then went to sweep past it, going straight to the table at the front where the keep staff were doing the intake interviews. “So let’s get signed in?—”
“You need to wait you turn.” When Sparrow stepped into the dark-haired woman’s path, I bit back a hissed warning. If the fur stole woman was who she said she was, she was the daughter of an important noble in Harlston. That didn’t hold as much weight as it once did. Being the aggressors in a civil war and related to the man that started it, affected one’s social standing,but Sparrow just put her hands on her hips. “All of us are waiting in line. You can too, there.”
She stabbed a finger at the end of the line, now considerably longer. The dark-haired woman glanced at it in the same way someone else might the presence of dog faeces on the side of the road, then back at Sparrow.
“You need to get back to washing dishes or emptying chamberpots,” she told Sparrow, taking one slow step, then another towards the tiny woman. Sparrow didn’t back down for a second. If it meant she had to crane her neck to meet the dark-haired woman’s eyes, then that’s what she’d do. “I am Lady Seraphina, daughter of Baron Ashbourne and?—”
“You need to get to the back of the line, just like everyone else.” Cora appeared by Sparrow’s shoulders, putting an arm around the smaller woman and giving her a squeeze. “Everything alright, Sparrow?”
“All good here,” the tiny woman replied. I blinked. Sparrow was like one of those lapdogs women loved to carry around. Small and cute, but with a bite that outpaced their size. “Isn’t that right, Seraphina?”
“Your Highness.” Watching Lady Seraphina drop down into a deep curtsey, I knew that was exactly what I should’ve done when I met Cora. “It’s so nice to see you again.” The crown princess just stared at the woman. Seraphina rose up again, the silence growing awkward. “We were at Madame Gentian’s Academy For Young Ladies together. Don’t you remember?”
“I remember.” Cora was all smiles with me, but right now her tone had a distinctly frigid edge. “I also remember that all ladies that graduated from the academy were well-versed in the art of waiting their turn. Please join the back of the line.”
Seraphina’s companions hurried to do just that, but there was something so terribly brave about the noblewoman. She advanced upon the princess, offering the other woman her hand.
“Oh, I was so looking forward to catching up on old times?—”
“Another time, Seraphina.” Cora frowned. “As you can see,we’re all very busy, so don’t make the process any more onerous than it has to be.”
The lack of title, the way the princess turned on her heel and marched back to the table made clear what had happened. Seraphina had been brutally snubbed. In the unspoken language of drawing rooms, this was social suicide. The noblewoman looked around herself and then frowned when she took the two of us in. My rumpled dress, my messy hair, every flaw was noted by those keen eyes.
“Gods, do they let anyone in as cadets nowadays?” she said with a roll of her eyes. “If she’s some jumped-up serving woman.” Her hand went to her hip. “Who are you, the night soil girl?”
This one thinks she’s a queen.I didn’t know how tightly Auren was bound to me, but it appeared what I was aware of, so was she.Better show her who really is a queen.
No, that’s not needed, I thought hastily.Stooping to her level?—
