“Forgive me for today’s bath. Had I known, I might have arranged to have another assistant bring warm towels. Going forward, you can expect something more luxurious,” she said, bundling up my personal belongings with a poorly-veiled crinkle ofthe nose. Placing those far from the bathing area, she returned with a stool and soap, then sat behind me. I’d only washed my hair a few days ago, but from the way her hands worked, it was clear she found my locks disgusting and wanted to get the process over with. From there, she buffed a sponge against my skin, the sensation falling somewhere between ticklish and surprisingly pleasant. “Good, whatever stink was clinging to you already seems to be going away. Did they find you in the mud? You’ve got as much dirt
beneath your nails as a farm boy—hold still—and your complexion’s just as agrarian.”
She had a knack for complaining, this Winnie Balden, and her touch was hardly gentle. She first ran a brush through my hair while I was still in the bath, using the water to assist with detangling; she brushed again afterward, when I sat in a linen chemise that was much finer than any cloth I’d ever known. Both times hurt.
She moved on to dressing me. I suppressed a sigh as Winnie unfurled an endless succession of undergarments. Chemise, stays, petticoat after petticoat…absolute torture. My stomach rumbled; I hadn’t eaten since morning. As Winnie worked through the numerous articles, she carried on.
“You won’t always take such late suppers, but the queen insisted that food would wait for the prince’s return tonight.” Her hands worked up my thighs as she fastened lace stockings to a garter. Finished with the undergarments, she went back to the chest and pulled out a light blue sack-back gown. “Oh, but the viscount has taste! He’s taken care to match the dress to your eyes.”
It was a rich satin, but there were spots of delicate lace in the outfit that made my skin itch. Moreover, when it was all tied and ready, I could hardly breathe, let alone walk. I looked in the standing mirror as Winnie worked the front of my hair into a high pompadour, fastening the rest in an elaborate arrangement of curls and decorative pins. A few silver ornaments were placed where I could see them, dangling like a flowering willow branch.
“Beautiful,” I whispered, forgetting myself. Absurd, but beautiful.
Winnie put her hands at her hips. She hardly seemed to notice my broken silence. “Aye, well, prettier now, anyway. Remember theservices I’ve rendered, will you?”
She took me by my now-gloved arm and escorted me briskly into the main palace. Hall after winding hall we walked, continuing past increasingly lavish installations that I couldn’t keep up with; it was all simply too much to take in just now, but perhaps at a later date I would take the time to meander and observe.
We passed beneath a series of archways where carved dragons and harts entwined, symbols of the royal house’s ancient triumph over some forgotten evil. Servants stopped and performed elaborate bows with strange flourishes, and nobles along the way exchanged greetings in a rhythm of practiced words that were more of a dance than a conversation.
“Here we are,” Winnie announced, stopping at a large set of polished wooden doors. She opened them for me but didn’t follow behind as I entered the dining hall.
Every eye in the room fell upon me.
“Enjoy your meal, my lady,” Winnie said in quick departure, vanishing before I could reach back for help.
There was nowhere safe to look. The only familiar faces in the dining hall belonged to the prince and the viscount, and all I knew of either of them so far was their ruthlessness. As the room fell silent, I fixed my gaze on the head of the table, where a woman I could only presume to be Queen Adelaide sat perched to the immediate left of Prince Nicolas.
“My,” the prince spoke, leaning back and crossing his arms as he assessed me. “I hardly recognize her.”
The queen turned to her son. “And who is this?”
There was obvious disapproval in her tone. I understood; I was an unannounced guest, and an unknown presence. Without proper introductions, a stray mutt might as well have entered the dining hall. I stood still, feeling rather dim-witted and wishing I had some idea of how to conduct myself.
Prince Nicolas made a wicked kind of smile, the sort I had worn when I had the rare occasion to tease my own parents. “Learn her face well, Mother. You shall see it often, I suspect.”
When Queen Adelaide didn’t follow along, the prince unfolded his arms and rested his elbows on the sides of the chair.
“It’s really peculiar. Just as I had given up hope from the countless bores you’ve sent to bat their eyes in my direction, Ihappened upon this fair stranger whilst on my hunt today. Alana of the Woods.”
It occurred to me that he did not know my surname and merely assumed I did not possess one. My cheeks reddened. Queen Adelaide frowned. “Apeasant,Nicolas?”Not a peasant,I thought bitterly.
“You may take whomever you like as a mistress, but this is our lineage you threaten to despoil.”
My heart raced. This was a good thing. If the queen disapproved, I might be sent back on my merry way. Maybe this whole ordeal would be nothing more than a crazy story for me to share with my family. And maybe it would suffice as proof that I could handle myself, and Mother would finally allow me to accompany her to the village.
“Nonsense! As a matter of fact, the Duke of Greene was just enlightening me on his scholarly pursuits concerning the subject of genetics, andhesays that the royal bloodline is too homogenous.”
“W-well, that is—” interjected a thin and nervous man with short swirls of black hair. Before he could spit out whatever he’d been trying to contribute, the queen had more to say.
“You’re to be the King of Antier, to rule over Gallae and Hadria at a time which necessitates strong and respected leadership. This marriage you speak of will concern noblemen and royal families reaching all the way to Rividinya… Your haste in choosing this—” she gestured crudely, “—girl,without so much as a word of counsel, speaks true to your continued patterns of disrespect for our country.”
A small team of chefs and servants brought out the night’s meal on silver platters, but the argument carried on. I stared down at my feet and continued to stand uncomfortably at the front of the room.
“And you know our alliance with Hadria cannot hinge on your kinship with the viscount. Marrying a Hadrian girl would have fortified our relations. No, Nicolas, I do not accept this. She will need to return to…wherever she came from.”
Another argument in favor of ousting me. I snuck a relieved sigh, hoping that this whole nightmare would soon resolve itself.
Then the prince stood in outburst, losing control of his emotions. “Mother, this is a matter of love! If you send her away, I will only chase her down again.”Love?
