The breakfast that arrives is the strangest I’ve ever seen.
First, it’s a veritable feast. When maids began filing into the room, I’d climbed back into bed where the king claimed to take breakfast. There, a tray with enough food to feed all four of my sisters is set up over my lap.
Second, there is so much chocolate. Chocolate drizzled over fruit, chocolate ganache peeking out from pastries, even a warm chocolate drink in lieu of milk or juice.
Surely, this is a special meal and not how the king eats every day?
“Is the food not to your liking, Your Highness?” This comes from a young maid straightening the blankets at my feet. She looks rather anxious over my hesitation.
“Oh, no.” I smile at her. “It all looks delicious. Please thank the cooks for me.” I take a bite of what appears to be a chocolate-covered mango slice to reassure her.
It is good.
The maid smiles back and returns to her work.
Two other maids—one of whom is Cora, the one I mistook for a ladies’ maid—seem to be in a quiet debate, and my bed straightener joins them as I sneak glances their way. The debate seems to be over what to do with a second tray, which I can only assume to be the king’s.
It seems they did expect to find him here.
I glance aside, my mouth working mechanically as I think back on the king’s expression when I flinched. He looked pained, leaving me with the uncomfortable sensation I had hurt him far more than I feared he would me.
I didn’t mean to react like that. It was only reflex, a reaction brought on by memories of—
I turn my thoughts back to my breakfast and bite clear through an oversized date.
The maids seem to be concluding the second tray should be taken elsewhere. The girl carrying it starts for the door, and I watch with unexpected apprehension. The king wanted the staff to gossip about us. They’ll hardly do so like this.
“Pardon,” I find myself saying.
The girls whip around. I don’t need to conjure any demure flush at what I’m about to say. Heat is already climbing my neck.
“Might you leave the other tray here?” I say, my eyes fluttering to the empty spot beside me. “I imagine his majesty might be rather hungry this morning.”
One of the maids is forced to conceal her smile behind a hand.
“Of course, Your Highness,” says the girl bearing the tray. She fairly flies to deliver the food. Cora meets my eye and grins.
I want to hide beneath the covers and never come out.
Soon after, one of the maids finds the king’s coiled belt, sealing the deal. The girls giggle and whisper to one another when they think I’m not looking, and I consider how one might tunnel into a mattress and live there.
I’m actually grateful when Hiln arrives with her bullish efficiency. She scatters the girls with a single look.
“You,” she says to me. “Time to get dressed.”
Once again, I’m stripped, scrubbed, and perfumed before being dressed in a silk gown embroidered with a stunning geometric pattern down the middle. My hair is pulled into an updo that is far too tight, and then Hiln and her troops disappear.
I sit and breathe in the quiet.
Everyone gone, my cat friend slinks out from under the bed. Someone seems to have filled his bowls again, which pleases me. I wonder if it was Cora. I pet the cat for some minutes before wondering, what now?
No one mentioned any events I should prepare for. I don’t think I’ll be called on here to tend any goats or help villagers thatch roofs.
What am I to do with myself?
There’s a fine writing desk by a window, so I pen a letter to my mother and another to Selena. Afterward, I look about the room, my brow furrowing.
Where are my things?
I check the dressing room first. None of my trunks are there. It’s silly, but I check the bathing room even though I know it contains little else but the continent’s largest bathtub. I even wander out onto the balcony.
I puzzle over my missing things as I look over the garden below. It really is an exquisite space, filled with blooms of every shade. It must have taken ages to improve the soil enough to sustain such flowers. I wonder how the water is brought in…
A glint of light halfway up a wall catches my eye. My gaze swings that way, and my blood runs cold.
An archer stands on the balcony across from mine, his arrow nocked.