‘Destroy them,’ Celeste replied.
‘No!’ Sonya cried, but it was too late. The maid was already gone.
‘Hush now,’ Celeste said. ‘We all have our tasks to tend to. Let your maids do their work.’
They scrubbed her until her skin was red and, once she was clean, they dried and dressed her, maids working with the different pieces and laces. The corset was tighter than she remembered.
‘Tighter,’ Celeste instructed.
‘That’s as far as it’ll go, ma’am,’ the maid replied.
‘You’ve gained quite a bit of weight,’ Celeste said. ‘We’ll have to adjust the dresses.’
After she was dressed, they sat her down and fussed over her hair.
‘It’s too short,’ Celeste tsked. ‘Do what you can. Tie it back.’
They took small sections and braided it, twisting other sections back. By the end, Sonya felt as though she had fifty pins in herhair, but all of it was swept back, away from her face. The clothes were so stiff and uncomfortable.
Had it always been like this? Had she never noticed? Or did a cage feel smaller only after a bird had been free?
Finally, she was ready. Celeste took her to the dining room for breakfast. The doors opened, and her stomach twisted. Her father and brothers were already there.
The moment she entered, the room fell silent.
‘Sonya!’ Irfan cried. He rushed over to hug her, and her other brothers crowded around her.
‘Do you have any idea the absolute chaos the castle has been in since you left?’ Shahmir, the eldest, scolded. ‘Why would you do such a thing?’
Mustafa, the youngest, was quieter than usual. He seemed upset with her, too.
‘My sons,’ her father said, his loud voice booming. Sonya’s brothers parted, making way for her father. She looked up at his face, and her eyes pricked with tears to see him again. She had missed him. She had missed them all.
‘Beta jaani,’ the king said, touching her cheek. His mustache moved as he smiled, his eyes glassy. ‘We are so happy you are home.’ He pulled her into a hug, and she held on to him, inhaling the familiar scent of bergamot.
He led her to her seat, the one beside Mustafa, and they all sat. Breakfast was brought out, a grand affair of spiced chickpeas, minced meat, a semolina sweet dish, and fried flatbread. Her favorite. A maid poured chai for her, and she took a long sip of the strong tea.
This, at least, was familiar, though she was not used to her brothers being cross with her. Guilt needled through her, until her father spoke.
‘You have returned at the perfect timing, dearest,’ he said. ‘The suitors arrive tomorrow. Of course, we delayed their arrival twice, but no matter. The tourney will begin tomorrow night, and very soon you will have found your match!’
A sob rose in her throat. She had thought she’d already found her match, but she had been betrayed. Perhaps it was best to go along with her father’s plan, after all. Anything had to be better than the heartache she felt.
‘Yes, Baba,’ she said, playing with her breakfast.
‘You caused a great deal of trouble,’ Shahmir said, still fussing.
‘Enough, Shahmir,’ the king said, expression stern. ‘There is no need to dwell on that, now. Sonya is safely returned. Things will commence as originally planned.’
His voice was strong and sure, as if he was trying to convince them all.
Sonya believed him. She had tried her own way, and what had it gotten her? A broken heart and nothing more.
She finished what little she ate of her breakfast in silence, and then she had a meeting with her father and Celeste. Her father sat beside her, listening intently as Celeste ran over the schedule for the tourney with Sonya, going over the events and expectations.
Sonya’s attention drifted. They would direct her every step of the way, she didn’t need to think. Not even a few hours and already she was slipping back into the old, passive version of herself, doing what she was told.
‘May I retire?’ she asked, after some time. ‘My head aches.’
