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Two rail-thin ladies, both white as a sheet and draped in identical gray frocks walk in, eyes lowered to the ground. "We're here to take Lady Helyn to her chamber, Your Graces."
"My chamber?" I snap, frothing at the mouth like an enraged dragon.
I feel bad when the girls shift nervously. It's not their fault I'm in this mess. It's his.
"Am I not returning to the city with you?"
The duke has the sense to wince. "Not if the king wants you to remain with him."
Oh, bollocks.
* * *
I am housed in a richly furnished, large room of white walls painted with thorns, completed by thick green velvet upholstery. It is fit for a queen, yet I sleep worse than I ever did on a hard pallet, half expecting Zale to walk in and demand salacious favors from his new whore.
The duke's words did reassure me, but I am still Zale Devar's concubine, and in the quiet of the night, that fact takes precedence over rationalizations. I keep my dagger close, and the king never comes.
In the morning, I wake to the sound of light footsteps approaching before my door opens. I have the ruby-studded hilt in my grasp in an instant.
"Oh, by the gods!" One of the two pale silver-haired maids jumps. "I'm sorry, ma'am, I'm here to draw your bath. I thought you might still be asleep."
I want to grunt and throw my head back on the pillow, but I couldn't sleep before her arrival. "My fault. I'm on edge." I sit up, setting my dagger back down on the feather mattress. "What was your name?"
I don't think I bothered to ask when she and her companion brought me here last night, frustrated and angry as I was, but it's certainly not my wish to anger servants. I relate to and like them much better than any of the grand titled folk. Not to mention, the two servants led the way yesterday and I don't have a hope in hell of finding anything without them. Trying to be nice won't hurt.
"Nissa, Your Grace."
"Enough with graces, I'm Hel." I get out of bed and follow her into an adjacent room. "Do you know what I'm supposed to do today, Nissa?"
"We're to dress you and take you down in three hours, you—" She catches herself. "Hel. The king requested your presence."
I’m sure he did.
* * *
The last time anyone washed me, I must have been three or four. At her behest, I let the cold-handed woman scrub my back as her coworker and sister, Lupa, kneads her talented finger into the sole of my foot. Most of my worries subside, clouded over by a shroud of blissful contentment.
For a time.
I know that's not likely to last.
"If your ladyship's ready, it's time to dress. We wouldn't want to be late for the king."
I groan, but keep my mouth shut and with a longing sigh, rise out of the water. Nissa hands me a flocculent dressing gown she warmed for me.
Wrapping it around my shoulders, I tell her honestly, "I want to kidnap you."
I'm rewarded by a sunny smile. "I am at Your Grace's disposal."
She's having a hard time using my name, and I've given up reminding her.
I never understood how anyone might wish to be waited on hand and foot as though they were incapable of caring for themselves, but in less than two hours of this, I'm getting used to it.
"I don't have any clothes except for what I wore yesterday," I realize.
"Oh, the king had a dress made overnight," the second servant, Lupa, says in a tone I’m certain she thinks is reassuring.
My stomach drops.
