The dress is quite beautiful. The thick, dark brocade fabric hugs my body before flaring out at the bottom. The silver embellishments are surprisingly detailed, and I can only imagine how long it must have taken her to complete. After some alterations, Rowena helps me into the gown one last time. Stepping to the side, I look at the dress in a tall mirror leaning against the wall. I must commend Rowena on the precision in her work, not a detail out of place.
“Perfect,” she breathes, standing before me.
“Thank you, Rowena.”
She gives me a polite curtsy. “The pleasure is mine, Princess.” Rowena gathers her things and packs them away in her basket.
“Please call me Raelys.” I smile at her.
I hold no titles here. No one needs to address me in such a manner. While in this unfamiliar kingdom, I need every friend I can make. Rowena is perfect. She is close enough to the inner circle to share some gossip with me and keep me informed on what is happening in this court.
Rowena smiles at me. “What about Rae?”
“Only if I can call you Ro.”
“It’s settled, then.”
I feel downright pathetic as I struggle with the simple task of making my bed. I’ve rotated the blanket several times, one end longer than the other, but I can’t figure it out. My pride won’t allow this to continue much longer, so I yank the messy sheets across the top and cover it with the blanket, tossing the feather pillow at the headboard. With an annoyed sigh, I grab the one dress that Rowena thankfully gave me and put it on. I walk out the door, on the hunt for food.
I turn down the small corridor and try to backtrack my way to the main halls. Each passage confuses me more than the last, so I start keeping track of the paintings on the walls to ensure I don’t double back to the same place. The castle's labyrinthine corridors seem to twist and turn with every step I take, as if mocking my attempts to find my way. As I turn the corner, I bump directly into someone. Strong hands clasp my shoulders, steadying me from falling over.
“My apologies.” I quickly step back.
Standing before me is a man. He is broad-shouldered, with a slim yet powerful physique. I can see the outline of his corded muscles through his finely tailored coat, the shining buttons matching the gold rings on his fingers. His skin is smooth and sun-kissed, and his eyes are piercing sage green. Pointed ears peek through medium-length hair that cascades in waves of warm brunette to his cheekbones.
“Who are you?” His voice is light like a fresh summer breeze.
“My name is Raelys.”
“Lady Raelys.” He repeats my name like a prayer. “Sebastian Black of Ashvarin.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” I smile, finding him quite charming. “Do you know where the kitchens are? I seem to be lost.”
“This way.” He gestures to a small corridor, waiting for me to go first.
It is foolish to ask a stranger for help, but I desperately need something to eat. If I don’t get something soon, I fear I may faint from starvation. I walk alongside the Elvarran and see if I can gather some information from him.
“First time in the castle?” Sebastian asks curiously.
“Yes,” I reply. “Are you a member of the king's guard?” I know the answer is no; he’s too well-dressed. One thing I’ve learned growing up in a castle is that men love to explain how their rank works.
“No, I’m a duke,” he says without a hint of ego or pride in his words.
“A duke from Ashvarin…” I muse. “I’ve never been there. What’s it like?” I stroll effortlessly alongside him.
“You’ll have to visit sometime.” Sebastian gives me a saccharine smile.
I giggle. “Now, now, Sebastian,” I reply sweetly, wondering if he is attempting to flirt with me.
His face lights up, and I take note of how my words affect him. Sebastian can prove useful in this court of adversaries. If I want to survive, I need people in my corner.
“What are you doing here in Khalessor? It’s nearly snowfall.” I pivot the conversation.
“I’m working on brokering a peace treaty for Dratheria,” he explains. “My king has tasked me to speak with Wrath first, as he’s the primary aggressor.”
I nod. “Why is that?”
“I heard he recently killed the King of Avelisar.” Sebastian’s expression turns sour. “A senseless loss of life.”
