A lump forms in my throat. That isn’t true. My family is dead and I’ll likely never see my best friend again. My ex was the one who asked me to take on this task. It’s the only reason he knew to come to me when they attacked the princess’s carriage and kidnapped her. They wanted her for ransom to stop the treaty, but they didn’t expect her to use the knife she had hidden on herself.
It’s not the way I expected to get my revenge, but there is never going to be another opportunity like this. And on my dead family’s graves, I’m not going to waste it.
“They don’t do that anymore,” Marian says.
“Because they learned that most children outgrow it,” I say.
“And because it was an outdated and cruel thing to do.” She sets the brush down on the vanity. “I’m not sure what you learned about us growing up in Iskvaland, but I am guessing not all of it is true.”
“Perhaps,” I say.
“We’ve been taught that the people of Iskvaland have pet reindeer and that all their men are large hairy brutes who drink too much.”
I have never been to Iskvaland, so I have no idea what is true. I lived half my childhood at the border, surrounded by people from both Pendralia and Iskvaland. But even there, it was difficult to know which stories were true and which were fabrications. There certainly were enough terrible stories from the people who’d fled from the frozen barrens of Iskvaland. But the people who lived in our village were kind. They weren’t like their own stories. “I see your point.”
She opens a drawer and pulls out another cloth that’s smaller than the ones that were in the bathing chamber. She wraps my hair in it, then twists it until it stays on its own. I clench my jaw.
“It’s just to help your hair dry,” she says. “Maybe they’ll let me show you around the city. You can see how beautiful Aurorium is for yourself.”
“I’d like that,” I say because what else can I say? That the city is in shambles. That the citizens are starving. That each winter we bury at least one person every morning because they froze to death the night before.
She’s silent for a while as she slathers creams on my face and rubs in strange smelling oils and serums. I have no idea what any of it does, but my skin no longer feels tight from the dry winter, air and it looks brighter somehow. When she reaches for the belt to remove my robe, I stop her. “I’ll keep this on.”
She holds up a jar of thick cream. “If you want to moisturize later, it’s right here.” She sets it back down. “They sent up your trunks, but we have a strict dress code here, so they made three dresses in anticipation of your arrival. The royal seamstress will be here tomorrow to get your measurements so she can create your new wardrobe.”
“A whole new wardrobe?” So much waste. Three dresses were more than enough.
“I know, I’m sure you’ll miss your gowns. All that color.” She stares longingly toward the bathing chamber, where I see the blue and yellow gown I’d arrived in discarded on the floor. I probably should have treated that better.
“It’s fine. I’ll wear whatever His Majesty requests,” I say.
“Good. Now, let’s finish your hair, and we’ll get you dressed.”
Somehow, my hair is dry when she removes the cloth. I want to ask if it’s magic, but it seems such a frivolous thing to imbue with such a rare gift. Though, the only thing I know about magic is that the emperor is the only one in the empire who can decide who may have it and that he can also take it away. It’s one of the things I need to find out while I’m here, but I need to understand the big uses of magic. Like how the emperor is still alive after 500 years.
When Marian finishes plaiting and pinning my hair and painting makeup on my face, I don’t even look like myself. But I’m not myself. I’m a princess.
She calls in help to lace me into the corset and to ensure all the layers of the elaborate black dress are just right. When they finish, I can hardly breathe, but this should be typical for a princess. I should be used to it. I can’t let them know that when I put on that dress this morning, it was the first time I’d ever even worn a dress.
“You must be so grateful you’re here and that you got to leave Iskvaland,” the other lady Marian called in says. “I heard they were going to sell you to an emperor in the Shatterlands until our prince asked them to spare you.”
I open my mouth, then close it. How am I even supposed to respond to that?
“Charlotte, is that how you are to address royalty? She is the future empress of the Pendralian Empire. She could have your head for your lack of decorum.”
Charlotte’s eyes grow wide, and she drops into a low curtsy. “Forgive me, Your Highness. I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s alright. But I don’t wish to speak of my home right now.”
“Thank you for your grace, Your Highness,” Charlotte says, still in her curtsy.
“Why don’t you go and tell them the princess is ready to be escorted to dinner?” Marian suggests.
Charlotte rises and spins, then hurries to the door.
“You’ll have to forgive her. All of your ladies are noble daughters, of course, but none of them have ever formally served a royal before. They should be familiar with court etiquette,” she glances at them and they straighten, “but I fear they must be out of practice”
I smile at the ladies reassuringly then return my attention to Marian. “What about you?”
