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Lurel, though, seemed perfectly oblivious to Cora’s anxious state. “How can your hair get so tangled after just a day?” she said with a grunt as she worked at a large knot at the end of Cora’s dark tresses.
“Is that abnormal?” Cora asked.
“Perhaps I’m only used to Mareleau’s hair. Her hair is always tangled in random braids by the end of the night, but her hair is smoother than yours and easier to brush.”
Cora tried not to take offense at that, but any mention of Princess Mareleau—no, Queen Mareleau now—set her teeth on edge. She still couldn’t shake their first meeting and the woman’s icy demeanor. Worse was the fact that she was expected to arrive at the castle in the next few days.
“Why was the king so distraught yesterday, Your Highness?”
Cora tensed at the unexpected question.
When Lurel received no answer, she elaborated. “When we went to…to that room. You said he was grieving and that I didn’t understand his complex past or the castle’s dark history. What did you mean by that?”
Cora considered not answering. It wasn’t Lurel’s business, after all. But if it helped the girl understand the king, then perhaps she’d take her duties to spy on Cora and Dimetreus less seriously. “His wife died in that room.”
“Oh my. Queen Linette, right? That was a tragedy. But you were said to have died that night too. If you’re still alive…what really happened?”
Cora narrowed her eyes at the girl’s reflection in the mirror, wondering if she was testing Cora’s response at the command of her father. Lord Kevan had insisted she not speak about her false death, disappearance, or resurrection until after their council meeting could commence. Cora opened her senses to her maid but found only naive curiosity in her emotions. Regardless, she’d follow Lord Kevan’s rules. Until the peace pact was signed, she had to toe a fine line. “I’m not at liberty to say.”
Her lips curled into a frown. “Father won’t tell me either. All I hear is rumors from the staff. Is there anything youcantell me? Is it true what they’re saying about your brother?”
Again, Cora’s muscles tensed. “Who’stheyand what are they saying about him?”
“Well, I’ve heard some of the servants whispering that a sorcerer had chained the king in the dungeon for several years and was acting as the king in his stead, and that the mage is the one who instigated the battle at Centerpointe Rock, not the king. Others say the king was working alongside the sorcerer and truly wanted to conquer Menah and Selay. The oddest rumor is that the king was being puppeteered by dark magic and hasn’t had control of his mind or body for countless years. Almost all accounts claim Duke Morkai was the evil mage. That paired with the tales I’ve managed to overhear about the battle makes me wonder if it’s true. Were there truly…ghosts on the battlefield?”
Lurel paused her brushing and met Cora’s eyes in the mirror. Her face was pale but there was a note of excitement playing around her mouth.
“Again, I am not at liberty to speak on such matters until I’ve had further counsel with your father.”
Lurel resumed brushing, shoulders slumped. “I thought you might say that. Well, what about the rumors regarding the North Tower Library?”
Cora’s blood went cold. “What about it?”
“Is it truly haunted? I heard we aren’t allowed to go in there. Naturally, some of the servants are speculating that there’s a ghost in the tower, and that if we open the door, it will come out and terrorize the castle. Sometimes I think I’d give anything to see a ghost. It would be a fright, but…oh, there’s just something so romantic about a haunted castle, isn’t there?”
Cora couldn’t agree. She’d seen wraiths, souls of the dead reanimated to fight living men. There was nothing romantic about watching men get cut down by spectral blades.
“You must have been to the tower yourself. This was your childhood home! Tell me, is there really a ghost? Perhaps the spirit of the dead queen—”
“Lurel.” Cora whirled in her chair to face the girl, pinning her with a stern look.
Lurel took a step back, cradling the brush against her chest. “I’m being insensitive, aren’t I? I’m so sorry, Your Highness. Mareleau was always saying as much, so I suspect it must be true. I was always either annoying, insensitive, or too weak-minded, according to her. I beg your forgiveness, Highness. I seem to forget myself around you.”
Cora clenched her jaw at being compared to Mareleau. She gentled her tone. “You’re just getting a little carried away. The North Tower Library is not haunted.”
“Then why are we forbidden from entering it?”
Cora imagined it was because Morkai’s belongings were still there. She remembered what the room had looked like when the duke had brought her there for a tense chat. He’d turned the library into his personal study and filled it with an array of ominous-looking books and vials of strange liquids. With Master Arther so focused on preparing the living quarters in the castle, it stood to reason that other parts of the castle had yet to be touched. She couldn’t blame anyone for wanting to avoid the library for as long as possible.
“The library is dirty, that’s all,” Cora said. “Until the room has been cleaned, it poses a hazard.”
Lurel’s expression fell as if the answer disappointed her. Cora turned back around to face the mirror and let Lurel resume brushing. The girl’s moves were slower this time, distracted.
Finally, Lurel spoke, her voice small. “Can I stay in your room again tonight? I know I only stayed last night because I didn’t have a room of my own yet, but all this talk about ghosts has me frightened.”
Cora assessed the girl in the mirror with a quirked brow. “Your room has been furnished now. Besides, I thought haunted castles were romantic.”
“Yes, but in a morbid sort of way, and…well, if I’m being honest, Father told me to stay with you again.”
