Sixteen
The next fewdays blur together. Dinner with the prince, gossip in my rooms with my ladies, Brevan following me like a shadow as I wander the halls hoping for a clue as to where the emperor sleeps.
Each night, I sneak into the passageway and take a different turn, hoping to find something useful. So far, I’ve come across a dead end and an entry to the catacombs. I marked the catacomb path with stones in case I need to escape quickly, but aside from that and the poisonous plants, there’s nothing else of use.
I need to find a way to explore the castle without Brevan at my heels.
It’s dreary outside. The rain and fog seem to seep into my room, casting a sense of melancholy that makes all my ladies quiet. I welcome the knock on the door if only to break the boredom.
“Who could that be?” Marian says as she hurries to the door.
I set down my untouched embroidery and turn. Perla, the seamstress Duchess Drathmore sent, walks into the room. Several ladies follow her, each of them carrying bolts of fabric and bundles of ribbon and lace.
My ladies gasp and chatter excitedly, and we all go to welcome the seamstress. At least it’s a change and a distraction. While I’ve been able to wander the castle, none of the other courtiers will speak to me and I’m always accompanied by Brevan. The lack of excitement is getting to me.
“Perla, we weren’t expecting you until next week,” Marian says.
“This is a special order,” Perla says. “Dutchess Drathmore hired me to create a masterpiece for the Darkfall ball. Perhaps a gown to honor Loha. My design will take time, We’re already behind as it is.”
The ladies gasp and squeal. I smile, and I’m a little disappointed I won’t be here to see the finished product. I’ve always enjoyed the stories surrounding the moon goddess and Darkfall is her time. While she’s held captive by the sun during the two-week period of Darkfall, we’re to call on her to show our appreciation for her so she’ll return when she’s liberated.
“Shall we begin, princess?” Perla gestures to a stool that one of her ladies is holding.
“Yes, thank you.”
The woman sets down the stool and step on it.
My ladies are touching the fabric samples, holding them up to each other, and layering them with lace or strings of beads. Perla measures me while one of her assistants takes notes and the others show off the samples they brought to my ladies.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Katherine is in the nook with my little writing desk. She looks around as if checking that the other ladies are still occupied before quickly opening and peering into the drawers. She moves the books on the shelf, then starts looking around my bed, lifting pillows, then putting them back.
She glances over and catches my eye, her face turning red. Quickly, she returns to the group without looking at me again.
“The prince will be in black and silver, and I think we should have you in silver with black,” Perla says. “What do you think, Your Highness?”
I tear my eyes away from Katherine to look at the seamstress. “Yes. That’s a good idea.”
“Wonderful.” She claps her hands, then one of her assistants brings over several bolts of silver fabric. Perla holds them up near my face and makes humming sounds as she compares them.
Once she decides, she sends her assistant away with the correct bolt of fabric.
“Do you make the gowns for my ladies as well?” I ask.
“They will provide their own gowns,” Marian says quickly.
“Can you make them?” I ask.
Charlotte and Genevieve look up hopefully.
Perla’s mouth forms a surprised O, then she blinks a few times. “I suppose I can. I’d have to hire more assistants, and it would be expensive.”
“Shouldn’t my betrothed pay for it?” I ask.
Perla smiles. “I suppose you should have your own accounts if he won’t cover the cost. The empress had her own funds.”
“Let’s do that, then,” I say.
The ladies squeal and rush toward me, shouting their thanks.
