Page 5 of Fit for a Prince (Fit For A Crown #1)

Chapter five

T he bed was too soft compared to the prison floors.

The sheets were too dry and the room was too quiet.

My stomach had been filled, but it was cramping relentlessly because it had been so long since I’d eaten more than one bland food at a time.

The soup Mara had brought me sloshed uncomfortably in my gut every time I shifted.

I closed my eyes, but sleep evaded me at every turn until the sun scraped me off the mattress.

Mara spent the next hour repeating all the rules to me and ensuring I looked the best I could despite being half-starved and barely able to walk through the palace. I was about to change out of my nightgown when a staccato knock echoed from the servants’ door and Mara nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Oh,” she said with a relieved sigh as she turned to the door. “That must be Oren with your breakfast.” She rushed to unlock the servants’ door, and a short, frail old man with salt-and-pepper hair and leaf-green eyes stepped into the room with a breakfast tray.

He was dressed in the same maroon that the other Ivalonians wore, and his hands wobbled while carrying the heavy tray.

“Good morning, my lady.” Oren attempted a bow but only made it about halfway before deciding he couldn’t lean any further. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet the mysterious bride-to-be of our former prince.”

“Oren!” Mara shushed him and snatched the wobbling tray from his hands. “There is no former prince here.”

“Relax, child,” Oren said. “I said it, not you.”

“But you’re with us .” Mara looked around anxiously. “Risking your neck could endanger Lady Diaspro’s as well.”

“I think a touch of sympathy for the poor girl is well worth the risk.” Oren moved deeper into the room, approaching where I was seated at the round tea table.

He stopped a few feet away from me, then with a heartfelt nod, he braced himself on the table’s edge and lowered down onto a knee.

His legs shook the entire time, and I was terrified that he would fall.

I reached out to him, but the determined look he gave me was enough to make me pull back.

Without any assistance, he balanced steadily on his knee, then pressed one hand over his heart.

“Lady Diaspro of Ivalon .” He said the kingdom’s name so fearlessly it made my heart stutter.

“You have my deepest condolences for all the loss you’ve endured.

I am but your humble servant, but if there’s anything you ever need, these old hands can still hold a mighty sword. ”

He grabbed the edge of the table and pulled himself back up. My throat squeezed itself together, choking back the tears that threatened to fall. I couldn’t cry, not in front of someone who was so incredibly strong.

“Your words are dangerous here,” I said in a tight voice. “You know that, yet you still dared to risk your safety for me?”

I may have been beside Damon all that time, but the people didn’t know me. Nor did they know what I’d done to Damon.

“You would have been my princess all the same,” Oren said. “I may not have agreed with all of King Leopold’s choices, but I would follow Prince Damon to the ends of the earth. If he chose you, then I do too.”

His gaze fell on my ring, and I felt my eyes grow misty. I gave my arm a discreet pinch to prevent my emotions from flooding me. The sharp sting disrupted my thoughts just enough that I could rein them back in.

If he was going to treat me like his princess, then I needed to become one worthy of his loyalty .

“Thank you, Oren,” I said in a diplomatic tone that had been cleansed of all feelings. “I will strive to keep Damon’s memory alive, no matter whose princess I become.”

Mara placed the tray of food in front of me with an obnoxiously loud clatter, shifting the silverware into place and clanking together everything that she could while clearing her throat at least four times.

“Thank you for that Oren, truly,” Mara said as she tossed a linen into my lap. “But I think that’s enough dangerous conversation for now. Lady Diaspro needs to save up her strength for an even more treacherous chat this evening, I’m afraid.”

She pushed a bowl of porridge in front of me, and I was relieved to see something bland that wouldn’t destroy my gut before supper.

“Meeting the princes hardly sounds dangerous,” I said as I quickly studied the array of spoons. I reached for the one that I believed to be correct and was immediately interrupted by two gasps.

“Um, only the princes are allowed to choose that spoon,” Mara said with a nibble of her lip.

“The princes have a designated spoon?”

“Well, not exactly.” Mara reached across the table to hand me the tiniest spoon on the table. “But the ladies are expected to use this spoon. The men can use whichever they prefer, but the ladies are meant to take only small bites.”

“What if a lady is hungry?” I asked, accepting the spoon from Mara. “We didn’t have such rules in Ivalon.”

Or if we did, Damon never made me follow them. He had plenty of other rules for me.

“You’ll get used to being hungry around here.” Mara’s tone shifted and my stomach curdled as I looked at my bowl of porridge. “For more than just food.”

I ate in silence after that. Oren tended to the fire, then cleared away the meal tray.

He slipped back out through the servants’ door.

The rest of the day was filled with more lessons from Mara about how many braids I was allowed to wear in my hair, which soaps I was permitted to wash myself with, and how many sneezes in a row were considered impolite.

The day passed quickly, and before I knew it, Mara was getting to work readying me for my evening with the royal brothers.

She started by giving me another bath, with the appropriate soap, taking extra care to ensure all the grime was scraped out from under my fingernails and my hair was properly washed and dried.

She didn’t let me out until I was wrinkled up like a prune, then spent another hour or so picking out the best scented oils to rub through my hair.

Apparently those had also been assigned to me .

“The guards haven’t left you with many options for cosmetics,” Mara said sadly as she looked through the vanity.

She stepped back so we could both look at my face in the mirror, her brows knit together as she studied me now that I was a blank slate.

“Although...you might not need any. I can understand why Prince Damon chose you to be his bride. You’re quite beautiful, my lady. ”

Beautiful?

She brushed my hair back behind my shoulder, letting it cascade halfway down my back.

It had gotten longer while I was in prison, and it certainly hadn’t been shiny like it was now.

I could still feel the itch of ashes in my scalp from my last night in Ivalon, but it was merely a phantom sensation.

The old me was finally burnt down and washed away.

The girl Prince Damon had protected that night was officially gone.

Beautiful…I think that’s the first time anyone has ever called me that.

“How do you usually style your hair, my lady?” Mara asked as she ran the soft brush through my smooth locks.

“I...I’m not sure,” I said with a nervous tug in my chest. That was another thing I’d never been asked before. “Prince Damon never cared much about how my hair looked, so I didn’t either. ”

“Not at all?” Mara lifted a brow. “I suppose he liked a more natural look from you. We can leave it down then. It frames your lovely face and brings out the blue—” Her voice snagged in her throat as her own light Ivalonian eyes widened. “On second thought, perhaps we should—”

“Leave it down,” I said firmly, watching a lump bob in Mara’s throat. Blue eyes were a rarity in Aemastia, so anyone who had them surely possessed Ivalonian blood. “I won’t marry a man who is offended by my eyes.”

“Yes, my lady.” Mara obeyed my request, leaving my soft waves down around my light skin.

She brought out my dress next and I scrunched up my nose when I saw the color.

It was blue, just like the gown I’d been stuffed into before meeting the king.

This one had a much fuller skirt than the last, and the fabric seemed to be a finer quality, but the color was the same shade as Aemastia’s crest.

“It would seem the king enjoys putting his pets in collars,” I remarked as Mara fastened my laces.

“You should be honored by his selection, my lady,” Mara said softly. “No other Ivalonian has been permitted to wear blue.”

“No Ivalonian has ever been seen alongside his sons,” I said, taking in a deep breath before Mara yanked the laces. “This isn’t a mark of favor, it’s a mark of ownership. I’m only welcome in this palace if I play the role that fits the costume he assigned me.”

“Yes, but it’s a role that could save your life,” Mara whispered, her timid voice tugging at my heart. “Besides, the color truly suits you.”

She was right. The light blue made my eyes pop and my hair glow. I hated it. No part of me wanted to look like I belonged here, but I knew that Mara was right. If I was going to get revenge, I needed to survive, and if I was going to survive, I needed to adapt.

“Thank you,” I said with a clenched jaw. “Let’s hope the princes agree.”

By the time the supper hour arrived, I was itching to get out of my suite. Being locked in a prison cell was hopeless enough that one never dreamed of venturing out, but being locked in a castle made one restless. I’d never been in a battle, but I knew what war felt like.

Today, it felt like a corset and a petticoat.

A harsh knock rattled the door, startling Mara and alerting all my senses. The lock clicked and the door flung open a second later, revealing the same set of guards I had met yesterday and the impish little steward.

“The princes will see you now,” the steward said tartly. He kept his nose turned up, but I could feel his eyes wandering over me .

Let’s hope they like what they see.

I could hear Mara’s nervous breathing behind me as I stepped out into the hall.

Even with the guards, it felt freeing to be let outside the room.

The guards didn’t grab my shoulders this time, but walked behind me as I followed the steward.

Resting and eating real food had improved my energy tenfold, but the weight of the dress still left me feeling weak.

To truly fit in here, I’d either need to get stronger or find a sturdy shield to call a husband.

The walk wasn’t far, and after a few short minutes I was standing in front of the dining room door.

“Wait here.” The steward slipped inside, leaving me with the guards and my pounding thoughts as I prepared for the greatest battle of my life.

There were no swords, helmets, or arrows, but if I didn’t walk out of the room victorious at the end of the evening, all hope of saving my people would forever be lost. And I wouldn’t lose. I had spent enough time with Damon to know how a prince thought and what one wanted.

Even if he was gone, Damon was still the greatest weapon at my disposal.

“They’re ready for you.” The steward poked his head through the door. “It’s time to meet Their Highnesses.”

I stepped inside.