As I pulled the blanket over myself, I was surprised by the heat retention in the lightweight material. My head fell onto a perfectly firm pillow, like reclining on my mother’s stomach, and if I closed my eyes I could imagine the sensation of fingernails raking through my hair.
But the bed was too big.
All my life I’d slept in the same room as my parents, and only in recent years had I been given a bed of my own. Now it was too quiet. No snores from my family, no chittering insects or wind blowing through the leaves. It was bright, not from hearth’s fire but from the light of the moon shining through a large window. I could see the courtyard through it, barely catching the sounds of distant chatter vibrating through the stone walls. If I drew the curtains, it would be too dark, but leaving them open was just as bad, so I lay still and tried not to think about the light and the smell and the soft warmth all around.
Chapter 5
After several days,I’d come to understand I wasn’t allowed to do anything for myself in the mornings, so I slogged through those early hours until at last my maidservants arrived for their duties.
They hardly spoke as they moved about, and they departed just as quickly. I felt guilty for not knowing the name of the handmaiden who brushed my hair, or the woman who changed my bedsheets; worst of all was my unfamiliarity with whomever was sneaking in to clear out the chamber pot. They always did it when I was asleep or moving about the palace. Irreverently referring to the phenomenon as “the shit thief” was frowned upon by my lady-in-waiting. In fact, most talk of bodily functions upset Winnie, so I tried to keep any further thoughts on the matter to myself.
“You’re in for a treat today,” Winnie said as she finished putting on my makeup. I wasn’t fond of the stuff; it made my skin dry and itchy, but she maintained that it was all but mandatory for members of the upper echelon, which I supposed I was now a part of. As bad as it felt, it looked even worse. Evidently, The Plague was in vogue. “You’ll be having tea with the ladies of the court.”
I remembered to straighten my posture just as her eyes went to my shoulders. Days of relentless scolding were beginning to have an effect. “Do you truly suppose I’m ready?”
The thought of making friends had gone from enchanting to utterly nerve-racking. My last several days were filled to the brim with dull, theatrical ceremonies and constant study. Every moment felt like a staged performance, with countless eyes seeking out my flaws. I’d begun to scrutinize myself even in the privacy of my own thoughts.
“You’re nervous? Good. That means you’re learning.” Winnie grinned. She helped me to my feet, glancing down at my pearly pink slippers with visible envy, then took me by the arm. “No wild thing tames quickly. Considering that, you’ve made remarkable progress.”
I kept quiet on the walk. More people were out and about today, each of them greeting me with their own customary bow depending on where they fell in the complex hierarchy. Sometimes I wondered what chaos would ensue if I so much as sneezed in such a bustling space. Would the men go rabid, dueling for my hand and forsaking their honor?
“You seem distant today,” Winnie noted. I wondered how she could tell when I hardly spoke to begin with. “Some trepidation is due. The parlor is an established hive of intrigue.”
I’d passed the Lady’s Chamber every day since Winnie had given me the initial tour. It was perhaps the only place in existence where I could participate openly in conversation, as men were barred from entry. In fact, much of the palace was exclusive to certain members of the court, leaving me feeling ridiculously claustrophobic despite the palace’s enormity.
We ascended to the next floor. There were a number of reception rooms; like the silverware at breakfast, each had a specific purpose intended for it. Gods forbid one played music in the same room one recited poetry in.
Feminine laughter echoed through the corridor. It was unrestrained, a series of cackles and snorts that weren’t in the least interrupted by my arrival in the room. Winnie led me quietly to an empty spot, close enough to the flowing conversation without placing me directly into it; then she sat herself in a cushioned alcove and joined in small talk among the lesser nobility.
The few court ladies who acknowledged me did so with brief nods before returning their attention to the latest contribution from a youthful blonde. She wore her hair in tight spirals, tied back with a ribbon that made her appear as virtuous as a doll, but her tongue was vulgar: “EvenIhave a hard time turning away. To walk about in such coquettish fashions, great big paps bouncing for all to behold… If only I could dress in such a manner!”
“That dress would fall right off those little fruits of yours,” another woman jabbed, earning her share of laughter.
So much for tea. Drained chalices at every table confirmed their drunkenness.
The speaker flourished a small fruit. “If the whore’s got melons, yours are but plums, sweet Lady Maeve.”
I slumped into the settee, ignoring a judgmental scowl from Winnie. My thoughts went to my own breasts. Where would they fall on such a scale? I’d recently had the pleasure of eating a large pomegranate for the first time, and that was probably the closest comparison I could make.
“I say the whore’s presence is a good sign. It means the prince’s interest in sex has changed,” chipped in a new lady, whose copper hair was stacked high atop her head and decorated with silver fashions. She had the audacity to look right at me as she said it, a smile creeping from corner to corner of her full lips. “Must be getting his practice rounds in.”
Wait. Had the prince taken a mistress?
I tried not to appear intimidated, but her words were difficult to ignore. The thought of Prince Nicolas engaged in such affairs further shattered the illusion of my engagement to some fairy tale hero.
The ladies waited for my response with eager stillness. I drew a sharp breath, preparing to address a large group for the first time in my life. I couldn’t sound weak, even if the thought was so scandalous it blazed a trail of red across my cheeks. “He must be.”
The copper-haired lady gave a quizzical smile and leaned back. “So, shecanspeak. I’d heard you were a mute.”
“I prefer to speak selectively.” I kept my voice quiet, hoping it wouldn’t carry beneath the door and out into the hall.
“Wise. Any gossip worth her salt will dissect every word that falls from your painted lips, Your Highness.”
“I’m not a Highness yet,” I corrected. I gave the slightest look to Winnie and felt some relief to see she was relaxing her guard. “‘My lady’ will suffice, until the queen sees fit to approve the prince’s request for betrothal.”
Eventhatfelt foreign, but Winnie had trained it into me—like it or not, I was a lady now, and I could not accept any lesser form of address.
“I have a feeling Her Majesty will come around.” The woman clapped once, turning to the other women. “Girls, we have been impolite to our Lady of the Woods; introductions are in order!”
