by Simone Pond
What a brilliant and devious ploy! Ciara felt as though fate had answered some internal call. She was certain Kateline would be the most apropos person to assist in executing her plot to destroy Evelyn. Yes, the two would become fast friends.
“Did anyone find out what you did?” asked Ciara.
Kateline let out a hearty laugh. “Please, I’m like the house cat and these fools are my mice.”
Ciara didn’t say anything, but her smile confirmed that she approved. What her smile didn’t confirm was that she would soon take over as the house cat.
“Come, let me show you where Evelyn’s gowns are stored.”
Kateline took Ciara’s hand and walked her to the back of the expansive room and pointed out the vast selection of colorful gowns. She pointed to the various sections of dresses. “Morning, afternoon, evening … Typically your lady will request what she’s in the mood for. Mine does anyway.” Then she traipsed over to the bulkiest portion of the rack. “And these are for special occasions like royal dances or celebrations.”
Ciara tried ignoring the ball of envy churning in her gut. “Will I know when such occasions are occurring?”
“Yes, you’ll know at the end of each day.”
“Perfect,” Ciara muttered with a bitterness she’d have to work on reining in.
Kateline turned to leave. “Oh, before I attend to Mathilde, I forgot to mention that tonight is one of those special nights. We’ll need to start preparing the ladies around 4 o’clock this afternoon.”
Ciara glanced up from the pastel yellow morning dress she was fingering. “What is it for?”
“To introduce Evelyn to the king and queen.” Kateline waved and strutted off to the section of dresses assigned to her lady-in-waiting, Mathilde.
Ciara realized she was gripping the yellow dress so tightly she had creased the material. Perfect, she thought, now I’ll have to iron it for the goat-in-waiting. She yanked it from the rack and stomped over to the washing and ironing area to smooth out the wrinkles. As she pressed the fabric with the hot iron, she thought about burning a hole straight through, but knew better than to act so childishly. Emotions would have to be locked away for now. She plastered on a smile, found a pair of matching shoes, then followed Kateline—along with the line of thirty or so chambermaids—through the maze of corridors.
The group of young women walked on and on until they finally reached a spiral staircase tucked far away. As they trudged along, Kateline shared more details about their duties as chambermaids that Ciara only half-listened to. On the second floor, each of the chambermaids parted as they reached their assigned lady’s door.
Kateline pointed to the end of the grand hallway. “Evelyn’s suite is at the end.”
Ciara forced another smile and bowed her head in feigned gratitude. “Thank you for your help. I’m so pleased to call you my friend.”
Before Kateline could reply, her dark eyes lifted with surprise and she pulled Ciara over to her side and curtsied. Ciara didn’t know what was happening until she glanced down the hall to see Prince Kieran heading their way. Ciara—caught off guard—clumsily bent into a lopsided curtsey.
“My lord,” said Kateline.
“Are you the new chambermaid?” he asked, nudging Ciara’s chin upward.
“Yes, my lord,” she murmured, embarrassed for him to see her in such drab clothing.
“Speak up, girl,” he said.
The tone in his voice rippled through her in a shock of confusion. She found his authority exceptionally desirable and attractive, but she didn’t appreciate the manner in which he addressed her. This would have to change.
“Yes, my lord,” she said, straightening herself and standing tall. “I’m assigned to Evelyn.”
“Give this to her for me.” Prince Kieran handed Ciara a scroll wrapped in a red ribbon.
She curtsied and before she could reply, he’d turned to walk off.
Kateline winked and bustled off to Mathilde’s room with her dress. Ciara held the scroll, staring at it as she continued down the hallway toward Evelyn’s suite. Before she knocked on the door, she slipped the scroll into the pocket of her frock, where she would keep it for the time being. At least until she had a chance to read it first.
4
The morning started out calm, and Evelyn felt somewhat rested, but things became increasingly stressful from the moment Ciara knocked on her door to dress her for breakfast. She found Ciara’s accommodating behavior suspicious. And didn’t fully understand why she was so intent on attending to Evelyn’s dress and hair, especially after Evelyn told her not to worry. It was true they had made a pact in the woods and Ciara had promised to show Evelyn respect, but Evelyn knew Ciara didn’t actually mean it. Her positive attitude was over the top and so was the way she fussed about Evelyn’s hair, making sure the curls bounced just right and framed her face perfectly. Evelyn didn’t believe for one second Ciara had experienced a sudden change of heart about being a chambermaid—especially Evelyn’s.
Evelyn remained quiet as she walked to the main dining hall with the other ladies-in-waiting, taking in the overwhelming vastness of the castle. So many portraits and wall tapestries and gold-inlayed pieces of furniture.
At the dining table, the other ladies whispered and shot dreadful glares at Evelyn. She fidgeted in her chair at the head of the table as the thirty pairs of eyes seared into her like branding irons. Jealousy was a dangerous emotion and resulted in the deadliest of circumstances. She would watch her back at all times and perhaps attempt to find an ally among this nest of vicious vipers. Although, that seemed highly doubtful. How could she trust any of these ladies, when all they wanted was Evelyn’s position as the prince’s most valued lady-in-waiting? A position Evelyn found she no longer desired, and at present, detested. But until she could figure out what was going on with the dragon looming around the Vindius Mountains, she was staying put. She twirled her mother’s locket between her fingers and thought about how Deidre would handle this situation.
When the prince showed up at breakfast and stood before the group of thirty-one ladies-in-waiting, the room became still and silent. Evelyn could hear the lady on her left swallow the bite of food she’d been holding in her mouth. Why were they all so nervous? These were the elite the prince had specifically selected to potentially become his bride. They had already won his favor. But as he circled the dining table, grazing his annoyingly smooth hand over each of the women’s shoulders, Evelyn got the sense something terrible was about to happen. She remembered Doran’s strong and masculine hands and wondered where he might be now.
The prince approached the head of the table and leaned down to whisper into Evelyn’s ear, “Lady Evelyn, you look ravishing.”
An icy chill rippled down her spine, and she straightened in her chair, forcing a polite smile. “My lord.”
He took one of the long copper tendrils that had been “perfectly” framing her face and twirled it between his fingers, then brought it to his nose and inhaled deeply. She felt a torrent of heat encase her neck, embarrassed by his licentious display. Not in front of these vipers, she thought. All thirty pairs of eyes bored into her, and if those ladies could shoot arrows with their glares alone, Evelyn would’ve been pierced to death.
“I approve of this look. Though you did blatantly ignore my request.” The prince continued speaking into Evelyn’s ear, releasing a subtle moan. “Tuberose is a delightful scent on you. And I didn’t think I’d like your hair down—with those unruly curls and brash color—but I’ll be the first to say how wrong I was. You’re simply scrumptious.”
Evelyn lowered her head, fuming. “Thank you, my lord. My aim is to please you.”
So that was Ciara’s game. She wanted to make Evelyn look like a defiant troublemaker who didn’t respect the prince’s wishes. Well, the shrew’s ploy had failed utterly because now the prince’s desire had escalated.
“I cannot wait to see what you have in store tonight for the royal celebration,” whispered the
prince.
She couldn’t wait to have a chat with Ciara.
Then the prince continued his promenade around the table, almost making a full circle before he stopped and placed his hands upon the shoulders of a stunning lady with golden hair. Her peach hue quickly shifted to ghastly white, and her bright blue eyes darkened.
“As all of you know, there is only room for thirty at this table,” said the prince, standing behind the lady. “This means one of you must go. It’s with my deepest regret that you will be leaving us, Shaundae.”
The prince clapped his irritatingly pristine hands twice, and two watchmen—different from the ones who had removed Aine from Evelyn’s room the previous night—appeared. They assisted Shaundae out of her chair and escorted her out of the dining hall. She didn’t argue or plead, she merely toddled out of the room, leaving behind a trail of shame.
A universal sigh released among the ladies-in-waiting.
“Continue with your breakfast, my ladies. I look forward to sharing a dance with each of you tonight.” He stared at Evelyn as he spoke these words.
She smiled, thinking it best to appear gracious. But he was an obstacle in her path that needed to be removed. Perhaps the best way to dissuade the prince’s affections meant wearing hideous gowns and not taming her unruly and brash hair. Ciara would unquestionably assist with the endeavor.
After the prince exited the dining hall, Evelyn asked the lady on her right, “What will happen to Shaundae?”
The brunette grinned and batted her long eyelashes. “Tis not for us to know the fate of a lady once she’s no longer in waiting.”
Her callous response scraped against Evelyn’s ears and gave her a shiver.
“You must know something. Does she get sent home?” Evelyn pressed her for a more concrete explanation.
“Sacrifices must be made at the castle …”
Sacrifices must be made? What in all of Galicia was that supposed to mean? She wanted to escape the table of scorpions and be done with this ridiculous game, but she forced down a bite of buttered toast and went about finishing her breakfast. One of the dragons of Galicia is currently stalking the castle, she reminded herself. And she would stay until the beast was slain.
The rest of the morning spun like a weaver’s loom, blurring the events into a hodgepodge of wasted time. The castellan, a rather elderly fellow, took Evelyn on an exhausting tour of the castle, creeping at a snail’s pace from floor to floor. Though her feet throbbed from the tight shoes, she remained polite and appreciative, feigning enthusiasm over the royal assets. She paid less attention to the castellan and more attention to the view of the Vindius Mountains she caught glimpses of every now and again. No dragon sightings all morning, and she wondered if the creature only came out at night. But hadn’t she seen it during the day that one time?
Finally, the tour ended and Evelyn thanked the castellan when he dropped her off at the door to her suite. She watched him slowly creak his way back down the second-floor hall to the grand staircase. Once he was out of view, she slipped off her shoes and tiptoed down the hallway. She planned to find Sinead and inquire about Aine, but she stopped short when she was about to turn down another hallway and saw two ladies-in-waiting whispering underneath an enormous portrait of some long-ago castle. She pressed back against the wall and listened in to the secret conversation. Their words were hushed and difficult to make sense of, though she might’ve heard her name mentioned … twice.
“There you are!” Ciara’s high-pitched voice startled Evelyn, causing her to jump and drop one of her shoes.
The whispering ladies scattered off in opposite directions.
Evelyn turned to face Ciara, wanting to pummel her for interrupting, but she smiled instead. The two locked gazes. Evelyn quietly sized up Ciara, wondering if she suspected Evelyn of knowing the score. Evelyn needed to be clever like her mother, Deidre, and figure out how to utilize the shrew’s devious skills to ward off the prince. Less time with him would give her more time to focus on the dragon.
“You gave me a start.” Evelyn used a sweet but not overstated tone.
“I apologize. But I had tea and sandwiches brought to your room and didn’t want them to get cold.”
Evelyn cocked her head slightly. “How thoughtful of you.”
Ciara grinned, her sapphire eyes dancing almost maniacally. “And … if you don’t mind, I thought we could discuss your wardrobe for tonight’s special celebration.”
Hooking Ciara’s arm in hers, Evelyn began strolling back to her room. “That would be most helpful. I haven’t a clue about these sorts of things, as you know … I would very much appreciate your counsel in this arena.”
In the bedroom, Evelyn took a seat by the fireplace and devoured a bunch of the tiny tea sandwiches and gulped back a cup of tea. She hadn’t realized how drained she was from her exhausting tour of the enormous castle. Ciara poured another cup of tea, watching in complete disgust that she tried, but failed, to mask.
“I was starving. Breakfast was hours ago,” Evelyn said, stuffing another sandwich into her mouth, then offering one to Ciara. “Hungry?”
Ciara eyed the miniature sandwich and swallowed. “No thanks, um … am I to call you Lady Evelyn now?”
Nearly choking on the sip of hot tea, Evelyn laughed. “Dear heavens, no. Evelyn is just fine.”
Relief passed over Ciara’s face as she settled into the adjacent chair. “Shall we discuss your gown for this evening?”
“Why don’t I leave everything up to you?” Evelyn suggested.
A coy grin appeared on Ciara’s lips and she rose. “As you wish. I’ll be back within the hour to start preparing you.”
The door couldn’t have closed sooner, Evelyn thought as she collapsed back into the chair and shut her eyes for a spell. Just a quick nap before the celebration …
When Ciara returned to the room, Evelyn was in a deep and unshakeable slumber.
“Please wake up,” pleaded Ciara, attempting to pull Evelyn out of the chair. “If you don’t show up—on your night of introductions—I’ll be sent to the gallows. They’ll feed me to the hogs. You have to wake up!”
Evelyn tried to open her eyes, but a thick fog settled over her vision and clouded the room. She wanted to stand up, but her limbs were as heavy as iron. It felt as though poison was blackening her bloodstream, slowly taking her into oblivion.
“Whaaaat have yoooou done?” she slurred.
“What do you mean what have I done?” Ciara shouted. “I’ve been slaving away, gathering up your wardrobe to prepare you for a celebration that should be in my honor.”
Ciara’s true self came through the haze like a blast of cold wind. Evelyn needed to quickly gather her wits and handle this situation before she lost all control. But she couldn’t stop her head from spinning. The only thing she could manage was sinking back into the chair.
“I’ve been … poisoned,” she murmured.
“You must get up! Shake it off.” Ciara grabbed Evelyn’s hand and once again tried pulling her out of the chair.
“Get help … Someone you trust …” Evelyn said before fading out.
When she opened her eyes again, Sinead, the blonde-haired chambermaid who didn’t talk much, was leaning over her with a funnel contraption. Evelyn realized the woman was pouring something into her mouth. The bitter liquid caught in her throat, and she sat up, choking.
“Now!” Sinead instructed.
Ciara rushed forward with a large pot and set it on Evelyn’s lap. Both women held the pot steady as Evelyn curled forward and retched up all the tea and half-digested sandwiches. The stench rising up from the pot made her gag and she vomited again and again until there was nothing left except bile and saliva.
“Get it out. All of it,” said Sinead.
“Please get it out!” Ciara had her face turned in the other direction.
After it was over and Evelyn had completely drained herself of every substance that had been in her stomach, she fell back against the chai
r and moaned. It felt like a trail of fire had singed her throat all the way down. Sinead told Ciara to remove the pot, then stood over Evelyn with the funnel contraption again and tried shoving it into her mouth.
“No,” muttered Evelyn.
“You must take this into your system or you’ll never survive tonight,” said Sinead.
“I don’t care about tonight. Or anything … I just want to sleep. Or maybe die.”
Sinead glanced over her shoulder and leaned closer to Evelyn. “If you want to slay the dragon, I’m afraid you’ll need to live.”
Evelyn crooked an eyebrow and studied Sinead. “How—?”
“Aine. I’ll explain later, just drink this so we can get on with this ludicrous charade.”
Sinead handed over the funnel tube, and Evelyn grudgingly placed it into her mouth. Whatever concoction Sinead poured into the funnel blazed like liquid fire down Evelyn’s throat and raged through her veins like an inferno. She flopped around in the chair as the potion tore through her body.
Ciara stood back, staring in terrified wonder. “Is she going to live?”
“She’ll do better than live,” said Sinead.
Evelyn didn’t know what the chambermaid meant until the fiery storm settled down and she shot up out of the chair. She released a sigh that was like a gust of wind, knocking Sinead and Ciara against one of the walls. She widened her eyes, illuminating the entire room with their glow. As she looked around she could see every living molecule.
“What did you do to me?” she asked Sinead.
“Don’t worry, the enhancements aren’t permanent. But they’ll get you through tonight and you’ll leave a lasting impression on the room.”
