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Their heavy boots followed me down the hall as I turned in the direction we had come from. “Or not,” I said to no one in particular, as they trailed too closely. The moment I reached my room, I stepped inside and closed the door, leaning against it for a moment to hear them shuffle back into their original spots. It seemed King Windre wanted to keep a close eye on me, but it didn’t feel likeIwas the one trying to fool the other.
A soft caw came from outside the ledge of my window. Light tapping followed the noise as the bird outside pecked at the glass. I blinked with each hit of the thin panel that separated us. Was I confused or was Princess Maggie's bird a day early? I thought for a moment, frowning as I remembered that our arrival here had been delayed. So I guess that meant that the bird was right on time.
Crossing the clean, colorfully decorated space, I reached the window. It creaked as I opened it; the hinges were not often used or managed, I supposed. “Come on in, I guess. You’ll have to wait for me to write the damn letter.”
Another soft caw and the bird dipped its head as if it could actually understand what I was saying. Its wire-looking feet tapped against the stone before it flew to the small desk and cawed again. Its eyes were pure black and reflected my emotionless face more distinctly the closer I came. Feathers ruffled as it made itself at home and tilted its head. Those bottomless eyes watched me.
“Okay, then.” I stretched out my arms and cuffed my sleeves. My fingers brushed over the knobs of the drawers as I pulled them out. Many were empty, but eventually I found stationary and a pen to use.
“See?” I held the paper up for the bird to see. If birds could scowl, then this one definitely was. Clearing my throat like I was about to begin a speech, I set the pen to the paper and began.
Dearest Princess,
My arrival at the Acture Court was not met with much welcome. The King and his court give the appearance of business, though I find this castle to be not as I thought it would. It may be perfectly normal, or it may be as off as I perceive it to be. Only the excessively rich keep Nymphs as servants. Shouldn’t there be more than enough to go around, as there are in your court? As King Windre is the self-proclaimed breaker of Nymphs, I’ve found his dungeons to be rather empty, with the exception of the servant I brought along. I have yet to explore the castle further; maybe I’ll find more Nymphs hiding elsewhere. In two days I will write to your father. I’ll share the news of my arrival and the King's appearance of business, but perhaps I’ll keep my speculations to myself until I have physical proof to provide.
Truly,
Milo
“Are you happy now?” I sighed. I waved the letter in the air, letting the ink dry before I rolled the crinkled parchment up and secured it to the marker on the bird's foot.
He gave one last caw before he scuttled off my desk, claws tapping loudly, and took flight out the window. I watched as he blended in with a small flock of birds that flew away at his startling outcry.
Pulling the window shut, I stared at the back of my closed door. Maybe I should be more direct. This uneasy feeling in my gut had to be telling me something. There was a dirty lie in this court. I just had to sniff it out.
King Henrick’s touch had been light as a feather. His power was so strong that he needed only the barest contact to pull me, and my belongings, into the snap of travel manipulation. My neck ached as I’d been thrown forward through space. My stomach rolled from the momentum. Vomit burned like acid at the bottom of my throat, begging to be spewed out the moment I blinked into what I assumed was the Twinity Court castle.A bedroom as I deduced from the far too large bed.
His icy blue eyes were glazed with an emotion I couldn’t make out upon his face as he gazed over me then left without a word, allowing an entire band of servants to rush in soon after. Calloused hands began picking and pruning every inch of my body. Coarse brushes and wet rags washed away any grime. Hot wax was applied to my arms, legs, and other places that burned my cheeks to think about, to rip away any and all hair. They ran brushes through my hair and with a hot iron replaced my natural curls with larger, more elegant ones. They scraped the dirt out from under my fingernails before shining pink paint was applied.
The washing, the primping, the stuffing into the gown, and smoothing the sharp edges of my typically too-casual look took the entire day. I’d watched the sun fall toward the horizon through the large windows of my room wondering where Dace was and what he was doing.
The servants, Nymphs like me, gossiped in a familiar way. They didn’t appear as underfed as I had been under King Ganglin’s rule. They even smiled as they made me beautiful. King Windre was right, they treated their Nymphs with more respect than the other courts.
“You're going to look so beautiful,” they whispered to me.
“We’ve heard about you, Ryker Avery,” another one said, wide eyed. “I can’t believe everything you’ve done. Maybe after tonight, you’ll make us freer than we’ve ever been.” The girl had nodded encouragingly.
When someone else said it, it felt less real. I hadn’t done much, not more than being angry and loud. But she was referring to making an alliance, I assumed. That was the entire reason I had come. Dace was in alliance with me, with the Nymphs, so as his crown was placed upon his head, the bonds that would lead us to victory would be strengthened.
“What,” I cleared my throat, “what should I expect tonight?”
“Oh, don’t worry, Miss Avery. You are going to do wonders. I heard the queen already had a dream about it. She’s very confident in what will happen tonight,” one responded while applying the subtlest pink color to my naturally pale lips.
“You’ll wait to be announced with the other guests. There are women here from all over the Twinity Court who wish to take Prince Dace’s hand in marriage. As they say your name you’ll walk—”
“With straight posture and your head held high,” the third girl interrupted, pulling my shoulders back.
“Yes,” the other continued with an annoyed glance at her friend. “You’ll walk down the flight of stairs. Prince Dace will be waiting. He will give you a nod in acknowledgment and you’ll be pretty much dismissed to go and enjoy the party.”
“That’s only if he is still waiting at the stairs though. He could be off dancing with a guest that arrived before you, if he favors her.”
“Rumor has it LaBelle—” the first said.
“That snotty rich brat,” the third interrupted again with a scowl.
“She’s annoyingly beautiful,” the second sighed.
“Rumor has it LaBelle is favored for his bride with backings from the king and queen themselves,” the first finally finished with a huff.
