Soren bowed her head. “Master, I come with a request from Princess Cion.”
Master June’s expression did not change. He simply nodded. “I believe my daughter is currently in her chambers.”
Soren paused, hesitating. The master seemed to be aware of whatever was between his daughter and the princess.
He must have seen the terseness in her expression, because he said simply, “It is not my story to tell, Soren.”
She met his kind eyes, her own rounding. She knew who he was, but that he knew her by name was odd. There were hundreds of servants in the palace, and she was no one of note.
He stood, offering her a hand. “You are surprised I know who you are.”
Tentatively, she took it, so surprised at the interaction that she blurted out without thinking, “Yes, Master. I am.”
His lips twitched. “The goddess Nyx marked our late prince tonight. You saw the mark, did you not?”
Unease stirred low in her gut, but she whispered, “Yes. How did you know?”
He lifted a shoulder. “You know how information spreads within these walls. Like a blazing fire.”He paused, searching her eyes with a sad expression she did not understand before adding, “The gods of Arcadia abandoned us many years ago. It is curious that such a mark should appear at all.”
She bit her lower lip, worrying it between her teeth. The candle on his desk flickered, wavering and casting shadows around the library.
“I suppose so,” she said after a moment. Then, remembering her task, she pulled back her hand and curtsied low. “I should be going, Master. The princess awaits.”
“Yes, of course,” he said.
She turned, but as she did, he said quietly, “Memory is such a strange, fickle thing. Pay mind to those dreams you have.”
Soren froze then turned slowly and looked back at the scribe. “My dreams, Master?”
His eyes twinkled in the flickering light. “Nothing of consequence, Soren. Not yet, it seems. You should go retrieve Ana.”
His words did nothing to put her at ease, but she bowed and left, heading to Lady Anabeth’s chambers.
As she walked, her mind raced. How did the master know about her dreams? They had haunted her nearly every night for as long as she could recall. She hardly remembered them when she woke, usually only an image or lingering feeling. The dreams were not memories, at least not her own. In the privacy of her mind, she had always surmised the dreams were pieces of someone else’s life, as foolish as she knew that likely was.
All throughout the palace, servants and lords alike hurried with their heads down and their faces grim. It seemed Master June had been right about one thing: the news of Prince Nell’s death had spread quickly.
When Soren reached Lady Anabeth’s chambers, she stopped in front of the wooden door and knocked twice, announcing, “A request from the princess, my lady.”
The door swung open almost immediately to reveal Lady Anabeth in an orange silk night robe. Her black hair hung in a sheet of silky strands down her back, and brown, slantedeyes pierced Soren’s gaze, a single brow raising. It was a shade unnerving, how intently the lady looked at her, as if she could see right through Soren.
“Yes?” she asked in a light, delicate voice.
Soren swallowed. “Her Highness Princess Cion requests your presence in her chambers.”
“Why?”
Soren shifted nervously as Lady Anabeth smoothed her long fingers over the robe. Her red-painted nails gleamed, catching the candlelight.
“It is not my place to say, my lady.”
Lady Anabeth pressed her lips together in a thin line but nodded. “Give me a moment.”
She turned, shutting the door before Soren could give a reply. When it opened again a few minutes later, Lady Anabeth was wearing a soft purple day dress, and slippers clad her previously bare feet.
They began to walk side by side in silence until Lady Anabeth asked, “How did you find me?”
“Oh.” Soren cleared her throat. “I asked your father, Master June. I apologize for the intrusion at this hour, but this is a rather…serious matter.”
