I watched his lips morph into a self-satisfied smile, and I put the pieces together. “Prince Brion has already read this text.”
“Not just that text, you silly girl,” Master Olek said, sneering, “his Highness has read dozens of books regarding the history of draekon and our invasion of this continent. Do you really think he needs you to take notes for him to review?”
My fingernails dug into the book’s cover. I was glad someone considered my frustrating task amusing, but there was nothing I could do about it. Prince Brion held my family’s fate, and my fate, in his hands. If he wanted me to copy some stupid book, that was what I was going to do.
“I cannot tell you why the prince asked me to do this,” I said. “I’m not in the position to question his commands.” My words were those of a submissive secretary, but I allowed hostility to seep into my gaze. I disliked my meaningless job, but I disliked the arrogant librarian even more.
“Perhaps the prince simply wanted you out of his hair,” Master Olek offered meanly. “Perhaps he is regretting selecting you as his secretary.”
“Perhaps,” I bit back, clenching my teeth.
Master Olek scowled, disappointed I hadn’t taken the bait. “Well, I will not waste my time,” he told me. “You will decipher the text on your own.”
“Very well.” I didn’t deserve his cruelty or dismissiveness, but I was relieved he refused to help me. Prince Brion couldn’t be mad at me for the grumpy draekon’s decision.
Then again, the prince seemed like a resourceful male. I was sure he could find some reason to blame me.
Regardless, I dipped my head and turned to leave Master Olek’s office. Clutching the history book to my chest, I walked down familiar aisles until I found my isolated table, hidden between the genealogy scrolls and philosophical texts. I opened my tome and fanned my notes out in front of me. Then I sat in the stiff, wooden chair and resumed my impossible task of reading and translating the guttural draekonian language into the common tongue. I reached out and retrieved the quill on the table, dipping it into a pot of ink, and started writing down key points of the book.
I worked diligently, determined to not give Prince Brion any other reason to be displeased with me. I’d been surprised by his anger last night. The prince could have interrogated me about my late-night activities without barging into my bedroom and shouting in the middle of the night. He was a prince. That meant he was supposed to be poised and have some semblance of self-control.
I snorted. Prince Brion’s temper was infamous.
Pushing my amusement aside, I continued to read and take notes, ignoring anyone who drew near as they searched the library. I kept my head down, pretending I didn’t feel their probing eyes scan me from head to toe.
I worked for hours, focusing on the book until my vision blurred. I’d reached a section titled “Shen Fadeyrs,” or as it was known in the common tongue, “Ancient Prophecies.” I rubbed my dry eyes, but it was no use. My eyes were done.
I closed the book and gathered my papers. I’d gone above my assigned task, managing to complete three and a half pages for Prince Brion to read. Sure, my translations might not be one hundred percent accurate, and my handwriting had grown larger as I worked, but I’d completed my goal.
My stomach growled, reminding me that I’d missed the midday meal. It didn’t matter. I would find something to eat in my room; I kept a supply of fruit and bread there.
I’d avoided eating in the court’s dining hall as much as possible, and I hadn’t been brave enough to venture down to the castle kitchens to eat. Initially, I’d kept to myself, only interacting with Lorie and our fellow Caldirian recruit, Bridget when we first arrived. I’d been wary of the strangers, baffled by how content and unoppressed they seemed. Being raised in Caldiri, I’d always believed all draekon were monsters, and the humans recruited to work for them were mistreated and taken advantage of. But I was wrong.
After living and working among the kitchen staff for several weeks, we all had become friends, and those friendships remained even after I left the kitchens to work for Master Errol. I continued to join Lorie, Bridget, and the rest of the staff in their common parlor for evening meals and games. We had the makings of a small community, but I was forced to abandon the group after the rebellion’s ill-planned attack and rescue.
Not only was I forced to live and work under the watchful eyes of Prince Brion, but Lorie had left the castle. I wasn’t sure how to explain my sister’s sudden disappearance to the kitchen servants, and I loathed the idea of lying to my friends, so I stashed extra food in my private room to avoid the situation all together.
I knew my actions were cowardly, but I couldn’t bring myself to conquer my fear. Not yet.
I made it back to the royal apartments in record time. Relieved the room remained empty, I dropped my work and went to my room, retrieving a banana and a wheat roll. I ate the roll first, saving the delicious fruit for last. The banana trees were not native to our continent, but King Roderick had his gardeners grow several in the greenhouse, while also importing hundreds of crates from their mysterious homeland.
Peeling back the fruit’s skin, I leaned against my bed, wondering at the other civilizations of the world. I’d only recently learned about the elven kingdom on Avelin, and I knew there were several other islands and continents I’d never heard of. What were their people like? Were they ruled by the draekon or elves, or were they autonomous?
Maybe I’d find books on those places once I finished reading through Prince Brion’s history text.
I heard knuckles tap against the apartment’s main door.
I chewed my last bite of the banana, throwing the skin in the wastebasket before walking out of my room. I yanked on the handle without hesitation. Two royal guards stood at either end of the hallway housing the royal family’s quarters; they would have created a fuss if the individual at the princes’ door was even remotely a threat.
Once the door was open wide enough, I looked at the entrance and was greeted by familiar purple hair and a bright, white smile.
“Remi? Hi,” I greeted the human stylist with surprise.
Remi was a human recruit from Sipal, a mountainous region known for its beautiful, and expensive, sipal stones. He’d been the first human I met who did not begrudge his recruitment to the capital. He’d told me that his live was exponentially better in Draek than it would’ve ever been in his home region, and he didn’t understand my aversion to serving the draekon. After living in the capital for many months, I finally understood why.
Even though I was a servant with very little say in my future, the quality of life in Draek was much better than Caldiri. No one died from starvation or easily treatable diseases in the capital. The only downside was my inability to return to my home region. No recruits from Caldiri were even allowed to write to our friends and family we left behind. These limitations were only reserved for my home region and were suspicious to say the least.
“What are you doing here?” I stepped back and gestured for Remi to enter, closing the door behind him.
Remi whistled, spinning around while looking at the room. “Well, well, well. Look at my little Caldirian recruit now. Living the life of luxury.”
I rolled my eyes. “The rooms are the same as Princess Cienna’s,” I said, reminding him that he’d already seen the opulence of a royal’s private chambers.
“True, but you weren’t living in the princess’s rooms. I told you, Prince Finn is smitten by your rural, Caldirian ways.”
I wanted to tell Remi he was wrong; Prince Finn had nothing to do with my new living arrangements. But it was better for Remi to think that to know the whole sordid truth.
Besides, he was my friend. Even if Remi thought something romantic was going on between me and the prince, he would not be one to start rumors about me. At least, I hoped not.
For good measure, I said, “I’m living here as the princes’ secretary. Nothing more.”
“Sure, sure.” Remi trave
led deeper into the room, picking up a crystal figurine and examining the expensive piece of art, turning it over in his hands.
I followed him, repeating my question, “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to help you get ready for dinner, of course.” He lowered the figurine and moved on to stare at a painting on the wall.
The landscape featured the formidable dark grey mountains backing the city of Draek. The sky was a cloudy blue, letting the crisp lines and jagged edges of the mountains dominate the canvas. The piece was one of my favorites in the castle, and I’d tried to figure out who created the work of art, but the artist’s signature was illegible, scribbled in the bottom, left corner.
“What?” I asked. “Why?”
For the past week, I’d been forced to attend royal draekon dinners so Prince Brion could keep an eye on me. They didn’t take place every night, thank the gods, but when the princes decided to eat among their nobles, I joined the rest of Court in the dining hall. But I’d never needed Remi to help me prepare for the meal. The last time he’d been hired, Remi used his expertise to help me and the princess get ready for Jona’s companion ceremony.
“Since when did dinner warrant a professional stylist?” I asked.
Remi shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe there is a special guest of honor tonight? But it doesn’t matter. I was hired to do a job, so I’m going to do it. Now, I need you to take a shower, so I can start on a fresh, clean slate. Chop. Chop.” He turned away from the painting and clapped his hands twice, ushering me to go and do what he ordered.
Aware there was no point asking Remi questions he didn’t know the answers to, I walked to my bedroom and the connecting bathing chamber. As I scrubbed my skin with chamomile-scented soap, I mused at what might warrant my additional beauty treatment. I decided I would find Cienna after Remi finished preparing me for dinner, determined not to be caught off guard by whatever, or whoever, was going to be at the royal dinner. My life had been full of nothing but events that had left me blindsided, and I was finished with it.
5
Unfortunately, my plan fell through.
After my shower, Remi started working on my hair, drying the soaked strands with absorbent towels and combing out the knots. We made small talk for the better part of an hour before he began to arrange my hair. I thought about pressing Remi for information about any rumors he may have heard about me outside the castle, but I squashed the idea immediately. In this situation, ignorance was bliss.
My back and shoulders were stiff by the time Remi allowed me to stand from the chair in front of the mirror. I stretched before he subjected me to another hour of torture as he covered my face with cosmetics. I tried to protest, but Remi wouldn’t hear a single word. Who needed an hour to put on makeup? It seemed excessive.
Before I knew it, the clock struck seven, and Remi herded me towards the door.
“Hey! Stop pushing me.” I’d nearly tripped over the lavender evening gown draped over my body. I still wasn’t completely comfortable with the formfitting style of draekon clothing, but I no longer complained about being forced to wear the slinky material. After seeing the scandalous necklines and barebacked dresses, I’d realized mine were modest by fashionable standards.
Remi didn’t listen. His moisturized hands continued prodding me like a shepherd prodded a dawdling sheep.
My heeled sandal snagged on the carpet. “Seriously, Remi. You’re going to make me fall.”
“Its six o’clock,” he huffed without apology. “I told him you’d be ready by six.” He stopped urging me forward once we reached the main door.
“Who did you tell?” I asked, watching Remi reach around me and open the door. “Who hired you?”
“That would be me, doll.”
My head swung towards the entrance. Only one person used that endearment. On the other side of the hallway, leaning against the wall, was Lord Erwin. He greeted me with a mischievous smile. I groaned.
I glanced at Remi. “Lord Erwin hired you?” I’d just assumed Princess Cienna had been behind the stylist’s presence; it seemed like something she would spring on me without notice. Why didn’t Remi tell me the elven ambassador was responsible?
Lord Erwin spoke before Remi had the chance. “I did. Now, if you don’t mind, we are running late.”
With one last, well-placed shove, I stumbled out of the princes’ apartments and into Lord Erwin’s waiting arms. He grinned as he caught me. I quickly righted myself and stepped back, forcing him to drop his hold.
“I-I should wait for the prince.”
Which prince? It didn’t matter. I simply didn’t want to risk angering Prince Brion by arriving to dinner with the elven ambassador.
The elven male wasn’t deterred. “Do not worry. The princes are otherwise engaged at the moment. I’ve been given instructions to escort you to dinner.” He lifted an arm and raised a brow, daring me to argue.
I bit my lip, weighing my options. Part of me wanted to insist I wait for one of the princes, but the other part of me knew dinner would begin shortly. I don’t want to risk drawing even more attention by arriving late.
Resigned, I put my hand in the crook of Lord Erwin’s arm. As the elven male led me away, I looked over my shoulder and gave the stylist my best, bone-chilling glare. Remi’s grin widened, and he waggled his eyebrows, waving his fingers at me as we descended the stairs and disappeared from sight.
“You look lovely.” Lord Erwin’s breath tickled my ear. I leaned away, but I couldn’t get far. Despite my desire to maintain distance, Lord Erwin tugged me close, so my side was pressed against his hip. Unless Lord Erwin released me, I wasn’t going anywhere.
The corner of his lip lifted. He straightened his neck to his full height as we reached the next landing. Guiding me into a U-shape, we proceeded down the grandiose staircase. Now that we’d traveled below the royal quarters, several draekon and human companions joined us on our journey. It was only the presence of strangers that kept me from insisting Lord Erwin at least allow air to pass between us. I felt the pressure of interested eyes landing on me.
“Amelissa? Did you not hear me? I said you look lovely this evening. I’m honored to escort you to dinner.” Lord Erwin did not concern himself with speaking quietly.
Cringing, I could only say, “Thank you.” Several curious glances continued to pass over us as we walked to dinner.
I felt Lord Erwin’s chuckle vibrate against my arm. I expected him to say something else to incite even more inappropriate rumors about me, but he refrained. I thanked the gods for the small mercy.
Pristine marble tile came into view. Taking care to not slip, I stepped onto the shiny surface. Instead of taking me directly to the dining hall, Lord Erwin guided me to a salon adjacent to the main foyer. Inside, several human servants carried trays of spirits as they walked among the Court’s dinner guests. I’d never participated in one of the castle’s famous “cocktail hours,” as I’d heard Cienna say, but Lord Erwin seemed determined to rectify that.
After waving over an unfamiliar server, Lord Erwin released me and asked, “Red or white wine?”
“White.” The beverage would be easy to clean if I accidently spilled it on myself or, gods forbid, someone else. I was cursed with clumsiness in uncomfortable situations.
Lord Erwin retrieved two glasses of white wine before dismissing the servant with a polite, “Thank you.”
My eyebrow lifted.
Seeing my reaction, he mimicked my expression. “What?”
“Nothing.” I sipped my drink, turning to look at the room.
Thick, embroidered curtains bordered three floor-to-ceiling windows. During the winter, the expensive drapes were intended to keep frigid winter air from seeping into the gathering place. But during Draek’s mild summer, they were tied back to let the Court enjoy the natural light shining in from the sun or moon, depending on the time of day.
Royal green carpet covered marble tile, and matching tan and green furniture was positioned ar
ound the stately fireplace at the end of the long room. My gaze traveled to the different groups, recognizing a few of the nobles chatting amicably and enjoying their beverages. Cienna had taken pains to introduce me to several nobles, mainly males. The princess’s childhood illness had limited her social interaction for many years, but no longer.
Cienna had eagerly rejoined Court society, dragging me along for company, and she was unyielding on trying to find a “nice, young noble” to court me. Just thinking about the embarrassing introductions and suggestive innuendos she would utter made my cheeks heat.
“What do I need to do for you to tell me what you’re thinking about?”
I blinked and glanced up into Lord Erwin’s teasing smile. “What?”
“You’re blushing,” he offered as an explanation. He lifted his wine glass and took a drink while he waited for my response.
“Oh.” I lifted my free hand and felt my cheek, trying to cool them with my chilled fingers. “It’s nothing.”
Lord Erwin surprised me again by not jumping on the opportunity to embarrass me. He hadn’t shied away from such behavior the previous times we’d interacted.
I sipped my wine. “Why am I here?”
He tilted his head. “Do you not wish to be here?”
“That’s not what I said.” The words surprised both of us. I’d wanted to speak with Lord Erwin ever since the companion ceremony. He might know things about my family, or at least my ancestors on Avelin. And he seemed more than willing to talk to me. I just didn’t know why.
His lips twitched, and he tried to cover the action behind his glass. “I desired your company,” he answered, continuing to drink his wine.
“Obviously,” I said, gesturing to myself, “and you went through a lot of trouble hiring Remi. But why?”
“It wasn’t any trouble, actually.” He shrugged. “I simply learned who was responsible for your appearance at the duchess’s companion ceremony and sent a servant to find him.”
I blinked at him. Did he really not consider that trouble?
Possession Page 4
