When she woke up, she was alone. Azam was gone, a slight indent in the pillow beside her from where he had been. She was disappointed, though it was probably for the best. She recalled reaching for him at night, the warmth of his body beside hers, and her cheeks flamed.
Letting out a breath, Sonya got up and pushed aside the curtains, letting in the sunlight. She freshened up, and when she came out of the washroom, Azam was back, wearing the same trousers and shirt as yesterday.
‘Good morning,’ she said.
‘Good morning.’ He smiled. ‘I’ve asked for a breakfast tray to be brought up for you.’
‘Oh, thank you! Did you eat already?’
‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘I’ve been awake for a while.’ He looked a little sheepish then, and she wondered why. Her face warmed as she imagined him awake while she’d been asleep. She hoped she hadn’t drooled.
‘Did you sleep well?’ Azam asked.
‘Yes, thank you,’ she replied, and then she recalled Azam’s voice from last night. She couldn’t remember what the story was about. ‘I’m sorry, I fell asleep during your story. I was more tired than I realized. How did it end?’
Azam’s cheeks flushed. ‘Never mind that,’ he said, clearing his throat. Before she could press, there was a knock on the door, and Azam quickly went to answer it. ‘Thank you,’ he said to whoever was at the door. He closed the door with his foot and turned, revealing a breakfast tray: poached eggs, bread, strawberry jam, and a teapot.
Sitting barefoot at the vanity, Sonya dug into her breakfast. A carriage was due to arrive at eleven to take them to Ximena’s country estate.
‘Are you going to take those out?’ Azam asked, gesturing to the ribbons in her hair. They had held firm through the night, and she was excited to take them out to see how they looked.
‘Winnie said to do that last,’ she replied, taking a sip of tea. She was done with the rest of breakfast, and Azam left the tray outside the door. The room was getting warm, and Sonya walked over to the windows, pushing them open to let in some fresh air. Birdsong filled their room, and she smiled.
She turned back, watching as Azam took his suit out of his luggage, laying the clothes flat on the bed. It was nice being here with him. While she loved the cottage and the chaos there, she loved this, too—the quiet morning, the intimate room.
‘Do you think the ironing has held firm?’ Azam asked, holding up the suit. It was an old suit of his father’s that he had tailored.
‘It looks good to me,’ she replied. She went over to her luggage and pulled out her dress, which had held too. She went behind the screen and changed into it.
Before taking her hair out, she slipped on her shoes to run down for some water while Azam was still in the washroom, changing. Luckily, the inn was relatively quiet, so nobody saw her looking ridiculous.
Ream was at the counter with teen girls, who she introduced as her daughters.
‘Morning, Ream. Please can I have some water?’ Sonya asked.
‘Of course,’ Ream replied, grabbing a pitcher and glass. ‘Are you getting ready for the wedding?’
‘Yes,’ Sonya replied. The girls overheard and gasped.
‘You’re going to Lady Ximena’s wedding?’ the older one who’d introduced herself as Basma asked. Sonya nodded. The pair of sisters squealed, excited.
‘It’s going to be so grand!’ the younger daughter, Arwa, said. ‘Are you going to get ready soon?’
‘I’m nearly ready,’ Sonya replied. ‘I just need to take my hair out.’
The sisters exchanged a horrified glance. ‘This won’t do!’ Basma said.
‘Mum, tell her!’ Arwa agreed.
Sonya looked down at her dress, feeling self-conscious. She knew she wasn’t as fancy as she used to be as a princess, but she couldn’t draw too much attention to herself. ‘It’s the only dress I brought!’
The girls came over, one each at Sonya’s side. ‘Don’t worry,’ Basma said. ‘We just need to style you a bit better. Come on!’
They whisked her away to their room, sitting her down on achair. Then, they got to work, and Sonya let them do their worst.
They had some color for her lips and cheeks, and even some kohl to line her eyes. When they finished with that, they took the ribbons out of her hair.
‘The curls are perfect!’ Arwa squealed.
