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Chapter thirty-eight

W hen I got to my room I was surprised to see Airmathair sitting next to my trunk. I had no idea how long it had been there but at least he returned it. Unfortunately for me, it wasn’t something I could take with me on my punishment.

Ysabel was already in my bathroom, humming a familiar upbeat song, when I walked in. Her long hair cascaded down her back in waves of auburn, swaying with each dancing step as she rifled through a rack of new dresses. Completely lost in her own mind.

“Having fun?”

She jumped slightly, turning around to cast a look of irritation at me. “Do you have any manners?” she asked sarcastically.

I shrugged. “Depends on who you ask.”

She shook her head. “Get in the bath.”

“I’m guessing you’re already aware of the plans set out for the day,” I said as I undressed.

“Of course,” she answered, her voice cheerful.

I checked the temperature of the water with my toe before sinking into the steaming water. “And I suppose you won’t be able to join me, right?”

She let out a loud, quick laugh, “I hear enough stories of those women from the other lady’s maids. I think I will stick to just enduring them during the balls.”

Damn.

“And if you think you are going to get cancel on telling me what’s going on with you and the king, you’re mistaken. We may not have time for wine, but you best start spilling.” she said, shaking an empty hanger at me.

My cheeks heated. I knew this point was coming, I just wasn’t sure how best to put it. “We are—” I started, pausing to find the right word, “Dating?”

Ysabel scoffed, “You don’t ‘date’ a king; a king courts you.” She paused to fix another dress. “But when did having sex into the early hours of the morning start counting as dating?" she questioned, lifting an eyebrow at me from over her shoulder.

I began washing my hair using the soaps that were laid out for me. “It doesn’t, but . . .” I drawled, “taking me to the opera and bringing me back to a candlelit dinner does—Wouldn’t you think?”

She immediately stopped messing with the dresses to face me, shock written on her face.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at her reaction.

I knew that telling her what he did would make her freak.

“He did that?! The whole court and city was buzzing with the news about the king yesterday, but I didn’t figure out what. . . I can’t believe he did that!”

I paused my bath. My thoughts raced with the realization of the amount of talk that was currently going through the castle and the city, talk about me. My stomach flipped. “Did the gossip sound bad?” I asked weakly.

Her eyes bulged at my reaction, “Not in the slightest!” Coming over to the side of the bath, Ysabel began helping me wash my hair out. “Everyone was gushing over how beautiful you are!”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t lie.”

She splashed me in the face with the water. “I wouldn’t think of it. That’s really what they were saying.”

“I don’t want anyone saying anything about me.

” I admitted. Why did Nickolai have to be the king?

Of all that he could be, he was a fucking king!

I would have preferred it if he were a fisherman, or a blacksmith, or even a drunk who spent every night at a tavern.

At least then I wouldn’t have to deal with everyone's eyes on me at all times.

I finished my bath, climbing out to the awaiting towel that Ysabel held up for me. There was an awkwardness between us, one that told me she was unsure how to console me. I couldn’t blame her because I couldn’t even think of a way to console myself.

We walked over to the dresses and Ysabel finally broke the silence by asking, “So. . . Is the sex at least good?”

I sucked in a breath and looked at her sideways.

Her mouth tugged into a grin. “What? A girl can be curious, can’t she?”

Shaking my head in disbelief, I quipped, “You’re ridiculous.”

“Don’t tell me that if the roles were reversed, you wouldn’t be asking the same question.”

“Maybe, but I wouldn’t come out and ask it like that.”

She turned towards me, throwing her hands on her hips, “Well, how else am I supposed to ask? Does His Highness please you so?” she mocked.

The laugh that left me was so loud and felt as if it bubbled out of a whole other person. It was a sound that I wasn’t sure I would ever hear again. “If you must know. . . yes it’s good. Very good. And that’s all I’m going to say on the subject.”

She began searching through the dresses again. “Oh, come on, I need details!”

I giggled, “Not happening!”

Ysabel held up a dress to me, and I shook my head.“Fine, if you are going to be a prude, then can you please just answer one more question?” I remained silent, preparing for her next words. “Are you happy?”

My hand paused on the silky sleeve of a soft yellow gown.

Taking a deep breath, I admitted, “I’m trying to be.

. . At some moments I almost feel like I can be.

” I moved to take a seat at the vanity, dropping my head into my hands—trying to dull the instant ache that formed from all of the thoughts running through my head.

“I love him, but I’m not sure how we are supposed to move on.

” I’d been trying to figure out in my head why, if we were meant to be together, it still seemed so hard to move past everything we’d been through.

The gods knew I was trying, hoping for some good to come out of everything that had happened.

Ysabel walked over, placing her hand on my back, “Take it one day at a time. There is no rulebook on how to handle what you two are going through, so just. . . follow your gut, Mira.”

I nodded and took a deep breath as I sat up, looking at her through the mirror.

Her eyes told me she wanted to say more but couldn’t.

I wanted to ask her what she was thinking, but as I opened my mouth to speak, she held up the pile of reddish fabric in her hand.

The dress was an off-the-shoulder, corset top with a large skirt and beautifully embroidered gold details.

It was perfect. My eyes lit up, granting her my answer to it before I could manage to nod my head.

She quickly did her magic on my hair—gathering the top half of it back in twists that were tied into a single braid, leaving the rest of it down to dry. By the time I was tied into the dress with my make-up and jewelry, it was.

Giving one last glance at myself in the mirror, I tried to pick out any mistakes that would no doubt be easily spotted by the other women.

When I felt like there was nothing more to do, I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves, but my lungs only reached about half full before the corset cut me off.

“Let's get this over with,” I monotoned.

“That’s the spirit!” Ysabel said enthusiastically from beside me.

She walked me down to the second floor and I got my hopes up for half a second as it appeared we were going to the library. At least there I could distract myself with some much needed reading , I thought. But my hope dwindled when I was shown to the room across from it.

“Good luck,” Ysabel sing-songed.

I cast her a glare over my shoulder as the guards opened the double doors.

Sound erupted, pulling my attention to table after table full of women of all varieties, chatting and giggling.

The noise rapidly quieted as they began to notice me, dulling down to hushed whispers that were joined by horrified looks. Kill me now .

I stepped into the room and scanned the tables for a place to sit, begging to any God that would listen to put me out of my misery.

There were too many eyes on me. Too many whispers were being passed from one ear to another.

My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest as the familiar numbness began spreading from my fingertips up into my hands. I can’t do this.

At last, one of the women at the back of the room jumped up and I nearly sighed in relief when I recognized Nessy, dressed in a ridiculously bejeweled dress that did not seem to be her style.

She waved a hand to me in a motion that told me to come to her.

Taking a step forward, I hoped that the women closest to me couldn't see my shaky legs through the dress.

Do not let them see you fall. Do not let them see you fall.

“You act like a baby who has yet to learn how to walk,” Khalia’s voice spoke in my head.

“You have the worst timing,” I retorted as I continued walking through the maze of tables.

“I resent that,” she grumbled.

I was halfway through the room when one of the whispers hit my ear, “What is she doing here?”

What was I doing here?

At the woman's comment, I felt my irritation growing, building within me like it was my only remaining emotion.

Before I knew what I was doing, I threw her a nasty glare.

She and the women around her gasped before leaning in to whisper even more.

I instantly felt my irritation dwindle, leaving just enough to grant me the courage to walk the rest of the way—like someone was controlling my emotions.

“Did you do that to me?” I asked internally as I finally sat down beside Nessy.

“I thought you could use a push.”

I didn’t respond, unsure of what to say. Thank you? That didn’t feel right in this situation when it might have just made things worse.

“They need to remember who you are,” Khalia chided.

“I’m no one,” I muttered, which in turn got a laugh.

Blocking out her laugh, I did my best to put on a kind face, smiling at each of the girls at the table.

Nessy leaned towards me—the blonde highlights of her hair glistening in the light streaming through the wall of large windows.

“Thank the gods you are here. My mother dragged me to this,” she said, pointing to a nearby table where the former queen and four older women sat.

Each one had mature but still young-looking features, that somehow still couldn't hide the fact that they were all entirely like Katryn.

Obsessed with their appearance and gossip.

Nessy sat back up to take a sip of her tea when I leaned towards her, stating, “This is Nickolai’s punishment for me.”

Tea came spraying out of her mouth, and she coughed, covering the lower half of her face with a gloved hand to hide her smile.

Nessy’s mother threw a disapproving look in our direction.

Clearing her throat, Nessy apologized to the table, “Sorry ladies, the tea must’ve gone down the wrong way.

” She mopped up herself and the space before her with a napkin, eventually waving a hand in my direction, “By the way, have any of you met Mira?” They each shook their heads and offered me a greeting.

“Mira, this is Rose, Edith, and Zephora. The only ladies of the court worth knowing.”

Rose had delicate features with a dimpled chin that only added to her youthful look.

Then there was Edith, who had sharp eyes and narrow brows beneath her thin black bangs—she seemed like she saw through everything.

Zephora, however, was more in the middle, with her rich skin and dark brown eyes that were almost black and exuded kindness despite the questionable way they settled over me.

“Nice to meet you,” I replied.

Rose didn’t hold back, immediately leaning in to whisper, “Is it true that you broke into Katryn’s room and held her hands into a fire?”

I could see Nessy roll her eyes out of my peripheral, “Who told you that?”

“Lydia,” Rose answered before looking back at me eagerly.

I took a sip of my tea, slowly setting the cup back down, as I said, “No, I didn’t.”

“What did you do?” Zephora asked.

“I, uhh, held up a promise."

Each of them smirked at each other before Zephora added, “I hope she suffered.”

“Not fans of Katryn, I take it?”

Edith snickered before taking a sip of her own cup. “Let’s just say half of this room now fears you, while the other half envies you.”

I stayed silent. It wasn’t my intention to make anyone fear me, besides Katryn.

But for them to envy me. It didn’t seem right.

When I set out to kill Katryn, I never imagined that it would be something that anyone other than me knew about.

But now I was being judged for what people think I’ve done before they ever get the chance to actually know me.

“And is it ture that the king is courting you? I saw you two the other day,” Rose said, once again way too eager to gossip. I blushed, which apparently was the reaction they were looking for because it led each of them to start bombarding me with more questions.

“What’s he like?” Zephora asked.

At the same moment, Edith said, “How did you two meet?”

Followed by Rose saying, “Is it true you and the king had a son?”

“Rose!” Nessy scolded before looking at me with concern. “Mira, I'm sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I murmured, moving to take a drink. My hand trembled slightly as I lifted the cup, which luckily only Nessy seemed to notice while the other women at the table began arguing with one another.

“Are you okay?” Nessy whispered.

I nodded, “Let’s talk about something else, please.”

Nessy nodded her head and threw me a wink in determination before looking back at the women. “Tell us about the man you’re seeing, Rose.”

Turns out Nessy knew exactly what to say because the next thing I knew, the luncheon was over, having learned way too much about Rose and the soldier who was courting her. I owed Nessy big time.

As we neared the doors, Zephora came up beside me, giving me a large smile before offering, “The ladies meet every week in this room if you would like to join us again.”

I tried to feign eagerness. “Thank you, I would love that.”

“Liar,” Khalia muttered with a slight hint of a chuckle.

I finished my goodbyes as fast as possible, impatient to get back to my room where I knew peace and quiet awaited me.

While it wasn’t the worst punishment I could have gotten, considering the fact that I thought I would be executed, there were a million other things I would have rather done than sit in a room with a bunch of chatty women. And that includes cleaning toilets.