In the time since I’d entered my rooms, she’d gone above and beyond to help me with nearly everything short of moving my own limbs for me. Since she already knew my background, I wanted to make it clear to her from the beginning that I would be an active participant in my own upkeep.
Her reaction was unexpected. “Can already tell you won’t be fussy, Lady Isca. I only half know what I’m doing, anyway. I’m only here because I complained about being in the laundry enough that they kicked me out.”
We shared a laugh at that. She was undeniably a spitfire. The only friends I’d ever had were my siblings, but Catrin already felt like she could become one, given enough time.
While Catrin worked on pressing the dress she’d chosen for me to wear to dinner, I fixed my hair in much the same fashion it had been in when I’d arrived. I hadn’t cut my hair in too long, so now it was down past my waist. It hung in a thick, unruly curtain I could only control by braiding it. Though now that my hair was probably the cleanest it had ever been thanks to Catrin’s abuse, I couldn’t stop wispy strands from escaping the braid I’d shaped into a crown.
When I was finally dressed, I stared at my reflection for a long moment, stunned. For a second time, the mirror showed a stranger staring back at me. I looked…like someone I would have dreamed about becoming as a little girl, a fairy-tale princess. And I wasn’t even wearing the most elaborate dress among them. It was the color of rosewood—not the imperial red of Emrys’s cloak, but close enough to make my chest feel tight.
Catrin joined me in looking at the mirror. The sleeves shimmered when the firelight caught the embroidery. Approval shone on her face as she declared, “It’s time, Lady.”
She guided me down the torch-lit corridor, the hem of my borrowed gown trailing just enough to make me feel like an imposter in someone else’s life. It felt stiff and unfamiliar against my skin, but my hair, at least, was styled in a manner of my choosing. I was holding on to every scrap of the old Isca I could.
Catrin rambled on in the same way she had earlier. It calmed my nervousness a bit, so I was incredibly grateful for it.
I glanced at her sideways. “You’ll stay a little while, won’t you? Just…until I get my bearings?”
Her answering smile was warm and a little conspiratorial. “Of course. That’s why I’m carrying this serving napkin.” She lifted the folded cloth like a banner. “I’ll stand just behind your left shoulder. I’ll serve you eachthing in the proper order. Just follow my lead, and the princes won’t even notice.”
“Oh, thank the gods.” I exhaled slowly. “I’d rather not embarrass myself at my first noble dinner.”
“It’d be hard to embarrass yourself with either of the princes, but I take your meaning,” she said with a wink, voice upbeat despite having worked continuously for the past several hours to get everything ready. “I promise it will be a casual, private dinner. Today has been the most fun I’ve had in ages! I can already tell that I’m lucky to have you, Mage Isca.”
And, gods help me, she meant it. My magic didn’t lie. Despite the constraints of propriety between a lady and her maid, I surrendered to a whim and grasped her hand in mine. “No, Catrin, I’m far luckier to have you,” I said, coating my words with the tiniest bit of magic to carry a feeling of happiness into her heart.
She wouldn’t know that I’d purposefully sent the feeling, but I hoped it would lift her up, just like she’d done for me. I’d prepared myself for a cold, unwelcoming reception when I arrived in Darreth. But the reality had been so warm I almost couldn’t believe it.
We entered a small dining hall to find it mostly empty. Servants moved like shadows, lighting the last few candles, adjusting place settings, and smoothing tablecloths that didn’t need smoothing. The table stretched long and gleamed beneath a chandelier of twisted iron. Only the far corner was prepared. I didn’t think I could handle being thrown directly to the wolves in their court on the first night after my travels, so I was grateful.
I stepped toward the chair Catrin gestured to—gods help me, I was shaking—and surveyed the food that had already been laid out. Small bowls of honey-glazed nuts sat next to soft cheeses. The bread looked so soft it could’ve come from a dream. At the center of it all was some sort of bird in an aromatic sauce. And at the far side, something purple and gelatinous smelled of honey and the same jam I’d had earlier.
Thiswas acasualdinner?
“Don’t panic,” Catrin whispered, picking up the bread knife and setting it beside the proper plate. “Start with the cheese and fruit after the princes start eating. Work toward the hot food. I’ll serve every round, so you don’t need to guess.”
Before I could thank her again, footsteps echoed from the far end of the room. Nisien swept in dressed in even finer robes than he’d been wearing earlier. His golden hair was still damp from a recent bath. He paused when he saw me already seated, eyebrows rising in amusement.
“Early, Lady Isca? Either you’ve conquered the feminine art of dressing in record time, or you were simply too hungry to be fashionably late.”
“You, and now I, have a treasure in Catrin,” I said. “My timeliness is all due to her hard work.”
He gave her a courteous nod then settled into the chair adjacent to mine. “Emrys insists punctuality is a virtue,” Nisien said, lips quirking. “Though these days, he’s more likely to lecture me on the dangers of how I use my power than tardiness.”
Interesting thing to say about a man who blew a door to bits earlier.
I glanced down at the empty table. “Will he be joining us?”
“No,” Nisien said, picking up his goblet. “He’s taken to eating in his rooms. Some days, he doesn’t come out at all.”
Catrin leaned in to pour wine into my goblet. “I’ll be just over there,” she said gently. “If you need anything, raise a hand.”
As we ate, the conversation stayed light. Nisien told a story about a bard who got locked in the wine cellar for two days accidentally, only to emerge raving drunk. I countered with a tale about a pig that escaped the fortress kitchens in Caervorn and rampaged through the market.
My fingers tightened around one goblet as I looked out the corner of my eye for Catrin to be certain I picked up the right cup. With two wines to choose from, I had no idea. My belly had become pleasantly full, and my nerves had finally started to unknot.
I laughed too easily, too freely as the wine burned away my caution. A thought that sounded a lot like my mother’s voice whispered:This is howthey trap you. With warmth, with honeyed words, until you forget you’re just something to be used.
A part of me wanted to dismiss that idea. It was the Assembly, not Nisien, who’d entrapped me.
