“Where were you?” she asked sharply as soon as Soren shut the door.
“Business for the queen and then the princess,” she replied, her voice thin with exhaustion. “Do not worry; all is well.”
Mona pressed her lips together before she said in a hushed tone, “Youmustbe careful, Soren. The princess has chosen you to accompany her, which means more eyes on all of us. This is not the time to take risks…but if you must do so, be smart.”
Soren could only mutter, “You don’t think I don’t know that?”
Mona looked away, busying herself with dressing and plaiting her dark hair into two tight braids. Soren quickly washed and changed into day clothes, swapping out her thin slippers for soft, woven sandals.
“Soon, you’ll be wearing riding boots,” Mona said softly from behind Soren in the age-speckled mirror. “How grand that will be, not to get pebbles and dust in between your toes all day long.”
Soren forced herself to smile, though the mirror reflected more of a grimace. Still, she kept her voice light as she replied, “It will be, won’t it?”
Mona returned her tight smile, clasping one of Soren’s hands. The two of them were not friends by any means, but Mona had been Soren’s roommate since they arrived here, and they had always served the princess together. And most importantly, they were both orphans from Mise. For Soren to succeed, in a way, was a step for Mona as well, for all of them. It was why Mona warned Soren to be careful too, because any failure of hers could impact other Misean servants in the palace.
Soren did not often let herself cave into fear. But in that quiet, still moment, one of the last she would share with Mona, she let herself feel it fully, watching as it reflected in Mona’s eyes too.
Chapter 5
Too swiftly,the morning arrived when Soren was to depart D’anna with Princess Cion, to journey further into the rugged Eastern Peaks that made up an enormous portion of their district.
Deep in the mountains sat the dragon’s keep, where the eggs were laid and kept until they hatched. Nearby, the Sisters of Arcane kept their council in a sacred temple said to be a place closest to the gods.
Soren was given thick, warm riding clothes and sturdy leather boots. She dressed early, before the princess awoke, counting her breaths as she braided her hair and laced up her boots.
When she was finished and there was nothing to further delay her leaving, she cast one last glance around the room that had been anything but a home these last thirteen years. She was a woman now at twenty and two, and if she was not a servant, she would likely be marrying soon. But a different life had been thrust upon her.
She picked up the light pack containing all her things: clothes, a pair of worn sandals, her jewelry repair kit, a set of needle and thread, and a small, time-worn river rock. It washer only memento from home; the rock had been in her pocket the day she watched her mother’s head leave her body; the day her father’s blood had stained the soil a shade too dark; the day Kelshie had screamed at her to run, but she had simply stood there, frozen, her feet digging into the forest mud.
Shaking off the fractured memories, she stepped into the hallway bustling with servants off to attend to their early morning chores. Standing amidst the chaos, she let herself wonder what exactly she and the princess would be facing in the war camps. She wasn’t a fool to think these were going to be a pleasant three years, but at least it was not this hallway, full of fear and waning hope, kneeling on already-bruised knees.
She would not be free out there, but perhaps she could pretend to be.
When Soren arrived at the princess’ chambers, Mona, Thelia, and Jasmen were already there, packing the last of her things into an ornate trunk and braiding her hair.
As soon as Soren stepped inside, Princess Cion twisted in the vanity seat and said, “Good morning, Soren. Are you ready to depart?”
Soren bowed her head. “Indeed, my princess.”
Princess Cion nodded curtly, but Soren could see the burst of bright excitement sparking in her eyes despite the events of the last few days.
“Good. Prepare yourself; this journey is sure to be quite taxing physically, especially since you have not ridden much on horseback before.”
Soren gave the princess a small smile, veiling any nerves that threatened to appear on her features. Princess Cion turned away, facing the mirror once more, Thelia and Jasmen attending to her as Mona stood by if needed. Soren’s attention drew downwards, to where Mona’s fist was clenched at her side, just slightly tucked behind her wrap skirt.
Soren tried not to read too much into it. She knew she carried the fire for each and every Misean slave in the palace as she traveled with the princess—she could either snuff out the flame of rebellion or feed it.
Both were terrifying prospects.
Princes Cion stood, looking at herself once more in the mirror before turning. “It’s time.”
Soren bowed her head, a strand of hair falling into her eyes. “Yes, my princess.”
The princess walked forward and lifted Soren’s chin with a finger, tucking the hair behind her ear. “I am glad you will be with me, Soren.”
“I am glad to hear it, my princess.”
Cion smiled and made for the door. The four of them fell into step behind her, heads bowed and eyes trained on the floor as they followed her into the hall, past the empty chambers where the princess’ brother had often tormented servant and slave girls.
