I turn to Ellynne just as she says, “… be off.” She smiles. “Make yourself at home … someone will collect you … Her Highness.”
I smile uneasily, my heart hiccupping in my chest. “Thank you.”
Ellynne heads for the door but as she opens it, she jumps aside, startled.
Standing in my doorway is none other than the princess of the kingdom of Erleya.
CHAPTER 13
Carys
Tired of pacingmy room for the morning, and overwhelmed with curiosity and impatience, I make my way to the dressmaker’s bedchamber. “Are you certain you don’t want to summon her to your chamber?” Tiernan asks as he walks beside me.
“We’re already heading there,” I counter.
He tucks the silver strands within his dark hair behind his ear and turns forward again without any further inquiry. I can almostfeelhis disapproval. Tiernan Kilkenny is a stickler for rules and regulations, protocol and order, but he’s certainly relaxed over the years.
We step up to Durvla’s door and as I lift my hand to knock, it flies open. Ellynne nearly barrels right into me. “Carys! My apologies!” she says.
I respond with a nonchalant wave of my hand. “It’s fine, Ellynne. I just came to see how our new resident issettling in.”
“We’ve only just gotten back from the tour. She’s all yours.” She smiles and curtsies before walking away.
As I face the new Grounder woman, she hastily dips into a godsawful curtsy, and I can’t help but laugh. She straightens, an awkward smile replacing the brief embarrassment that flooded her features a second ago.
“How do you like your chamber?” I ask.
“It’s incredible.” Her brown eyes light up, a more genuine smile on her face.
“Is it a suitable environment for creating?”
“Yes.” Then she quickly adds, “Your Highness.”
“Good, because the Feast is in a month and I’m entrusting you with the task of making my dress.”
The woman sways a little on the spot. Her tawny skin blanches, and she presses her hand against one of the front posts of her bed. “One month?”
“That’s not a problem, is it?”
“No, Your Highness.” She releases the post and flexes her hands at her side.
“I need to look so remarkable that my suitors take one glance at me and drop dead. Even better if that happens in a literal sense.”
A line forms between her brows.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to find a handsome suitor to bed and wed, preferably in that order, because I’d like to know what I’m getting myself into. These noblemen and royals… they’re often older and have a great bloodline, but their personalities?” I point my thumb down to the ground. “You know what I mean?”
Durvla nods, but she starts to fiddle with her sleeve. She focuses on my mouth often. It isn’t uncommon for people to avoid looking me in the eye, but it’s irritating all the same.
“The dress that they confiscated from your home is stunning. Can you make a similar one for me?”
She stares at me, dumfounded.
“Have I stunned you?” I snap my fingers, and she finally blinks, smoothing her hands over the sides of her dress.
“Sorry, Your Highness,” she says. “I’m just trying to figure out… why me? I’m not a noble or even a Mainlander. It’s just surprising that you would choose me of all people.”
“Oh.” I wave my hand indifferently and huff out a breath. “The dressmakers of Mainland are painfully uninspired. Your dress is the most unique I’ve ever seen. The stitch, the embroidery. It’s incredible that you’re just a botanist.”
