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“Good morning, Lady Lily,” she chirped with a slight bow of her head. Her eyes were soft and kind, making it easier for me to relax despite the uncomfortable situation.
“Morning,” I mumbled, tugging at my hem. “Where’s the Marshal?”
“Out scouting. He asked me to keep you company today.” She beamed at me. My frustration grew as I realized Theron had plans for me that did not involve sneaking around the castle and reconnoitering as I’d planned on doing the moment he left me alone. I gritted my teeth and tried to hide my annoyance.
“Come, let’s get you dressed,” Mirijana said, gesturing to several dresses and gowns laid out on the bed. The fabrics were luxurious and finely crafted. I had worn nothing like them before and some part of me wanted to feel their softness against my skin, even though it felt like a betrayal to my fellow rebels.
“I don’t need to dress up,” I barked, trying to cover up my embarrassment with anger. “He’s not even here to see me.”
But Mirijana just smiled again, her expression gentle but firm. “Humor me,” she said with a wink. After bathing and grumbling about the amount of wasted water, she helped me into a gown; an emerald green dress with a delicate lace bodice that clung to my curves. She pulled an ivory comb through my hair as well, styling it in an intricate braid that cascaded down my spine like a waterfall.
Finally, she stepped back and examined her handiwork with satisfaction before turning to face me again. “There,” she breathed, her eyes glowing with admiration as adjusted a strand of my hair.
She hadn’t dressed me as a concubine, but as a lady of a high house, similar to what the other women had worn the night before. It made me uneasy, like a bird trapped in a gilded cage. I was used to desert sand scraping my skin, not the luxury of this palace.
“Are you sure this is for me?” I asked, fingering the delicate sleeve. Outlines of lilies and skulls in the same green thread formed a subtle pattern that I ran my fingers over.
“Of course. Kadir sent them for you.”
My suspicion vanished. I was pretty certain the tailor was a rebel as well and must have designed these for me, knowing I’d blend in more if I wasn’t half-naked all the time. Maybe I’d have a chance of losing Mirijana and skulking about the castle after all.
She grinned at me, her skin barely moving on the scarred part of her face. I grimaced, my lips contorting into a scowl despite her sunny disposition. What had they done to the poor girl?
“You seem chipper for a servant,” I drawled. “But if you’re not happy here, I’ve heard there are ways to get people out of here if they need help.”
Mirijana’s smile faltered for a moment, but then she shrugged, undeterred. “Oh, I’ve heard of them,” she said, twirling a strand of her curly hair around her finger. “But things are so much better now that I work here. I used to be in the mines...” Her fingers went to her unseeing eye, drifting over the shiny knots of scars. “But that’s over. And the Marshal takes care of his servants.”
I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Lucky you,” I muttered under my breath.
Mirijana’s smile faltered, and a hint of sadness touched her gaze. “It’s not luck, Lady Lily. It’s—“ She cut herself off, glancing away. “Anyway, let’s not talk about that.”
I eyed her before backing off. “Well, I’m sure it’s lovely to work here. Would you mind giving me a tour so I can get a lay of the land?”
Mirijana smiled brightly again and nodded. “Of course,” she said. Taking my hand and tucking into her elbow, as if I was a fine lady, she started leading me down the corridor.
“Lead the way.”
She grinned again, her eyes brightening with excitement. “You’re going to love it,” she promised, and I couldn’t help but wonder what Theron had saved her from to merit this kind of loyalty.
“This is The Castle of the Three Suns,” she began, gesturing to the intricate stone walls, which were carved with figures of wyrms and five-pointed stars. “It holds a long history within its halls. It was built by three of the oldest Salfár houses, though only our records of the Daelors remain.”
I snorted. That wasn’t surprising. Everyone knew the Scourge of the Gods, Eiran Daelor. The elf that had convinced Atar to craft Endbringer, the sword capable of killing a god, after Kearis insulted him. Not that he’d lived to see his dream realized. During the Godsfall, Tiordan Carxidor had come to power and Daelor had vanished. In Haechall, the fae said that Daelor was still alive and kept prisoner, but I didn’t believe it. What usurper would keep the rightful king alive? I hadn’t been aware that he had been a Salfár though, and I still was uncertain what the differences were.
“Interesting,” I responded, trying to keep my tone friendly, even if I wasn’t sure how well I was succeeding. She led me down a wide hall, lined with portraits of generations of governors and their families, before leading us to the Martial Gallery. It was an immense room filled with all manner of weapons and armor from days gone by.
A large tiara caught my eye - shining like white gold with intricate carvings of leaves that sparkled in the light. As I drew closer, I could almost feel an eerie power emanating from the tiara. It seemed… alive—as if it were calling out to me. I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out and brushing my fingertips against its smooth surface. It was smooth as silk beneath my skin, and a strange warmth seeped into my veins. It was beautiful—too beautiful for words—and it seemed to draw me in like a moth to a flame. Mirijana noticed me staring at it.
“It was once worn by Eiran Daelor’s queen consort. She was said to be exquisite.” I imagined a stone-faced elf adorned with this tiara as she helped decimate entire populations with her genocidal husband.
“Sure.”
It was clear that Mirijana felt indebted to the Elves after they pulled her from the mines, but her hero-worship was making me want to slap her. I needed to lose her, and fast.
Placing my hands on my middle, I made a face. “My stomach is growling. I forgot to have breakfast.”
“A thousand apologies, my lady,” Mirijana said, her eyes flying open. “I shouldn’t have rushed you out the door.”
I waved it off. “Could you bring me something from the kitchens? It doesn’t have to be large.”
