Page 12

Chapter

Twelve

F or the next couple of days after the training yard incident, Flora avoided private conversation with Prince Cassius. It wasn’t difficult, given the prince was clearly doing the same. She could see even from twenty feet away that Prince Cassius was getting nowhere with his father, meaning that the alliance—and their liberation—remained out of reach.

Prince Cassius spent a lot of time in his suite or in his study, both locations that allowed Flora to wait at leisure in an adjoining room. She wasn’t sorry for the rest. She’d downplayed it when the prince asked, but the pain of the sparring matches—particularly the setback to her injured shoulder—had been significant.

Of course she accompanied the prince to all meals, and during any meetings he had, she wasn’t far away. It was unnerving on these occasions to note how often Sir Keavling was watching her. He seemed very fixated on her presence.

He wasn’t the only one, and being an oddity was starting to wear on her. She’d thought her role conspicuous in Sindon. It seemed the idea of a female guard was even more shocking in Crandell. And she wasn’t behaving like a normal guard. She was always with the prince, never off duty except when sleeping, consulting with him alone in his rooms…none of it was normal.

The attention wasn’t all negative, which was a challenge in itself. The guard whom she’d bested in the training yard often hung around, starry-eyed, as if hoping to catch her when she came off duty. He was out of luck, because she never came off duty. Once she could have sworn the prince noticed him on the way to lunch, then lingered over his meal for an inordinately long time. Flora had to stay with him in the large dining hall rather than standing alone outside his study door, as she would have done had he followed his usual routine.

Not that she minded. She was very happy to avoid her admirer, and any other curious onlookers from the general castle guard. She couldn’t avoid the other members of the prince’s personal guard, but she was growing used to their snide remarks and cold shoulders. She barely noticed the pointed looks they exchanged anytime the prince took her into a room with him when his guards would normally stand outside the door. The speculation was exactly what she’d expected, and she’d decided from the start not to let it bother her.

If she’d wanted to avoid controversy and spend her life courting the respect of people she had no respect for, she would have stayed home, not run away to school and certainly not become a female guard to Siqual’s princess.

No, the guards she could handle. It was the ire of the domestic staff that threw her off balance. She quickly realized that she was deeply resented by most of the maids who tended to the prince’s suite. By her observation, Prince Cassius didn’t even notice them coming and going, but they certainly noticed him. None of them went so far as to make advances, but she could see at a glance that the serious, handsome heir to the throne was the object not so much of admiration as of obsession for most of the girls who worked in the castle.

She could understand why. She was no stranger to handsome princes, and she could say with authority that not all of them had Cassius’s air. He was confident without being cocky, masterful without being domineering. And she had reason to know that he felt more concern for those under his care than many royals would.

He had perhaps a touch too much pride—for example her life would be easier if he hadn’t felt the need to hide the tether from his father and the court. But she had sympathy for his position. He was clearly born to lead, and she could sense his frustration as his father increasingly treated him like an inconvenient interruption rather than a true heir. To admit to the tangle he’d fallen into would hardly gain him more respect. Flora guessed that he hadn’t been sidelined so much before Sir Keavling came along and started saying exactly what the king wanted to hear, thereby forcing Cassius to be the unpopular voice of reason. Even Lord Armand, who at first had seemed such a promising support, had been lying low, trying to avoid notice in a way that Flora was sure was uncharacteristic. She wasn’t sorry not to have to interact with him, but it meant that all the strain of trying to steer the king away from a bad course fell on the prince.

Cassius handled it with grace, but Flora had the luxury of much more insight into his private moments than anyone else in the castle. She could see the mortification he tried to hide when his father turned away from him at meals, or spoke over his very reasonable comments. She respected him for his restraint, even while she vicariously felt the awkward sting of his embarrassment. Sometimes it was almost as though she was literally feeling his emotions, so potently could she discern them.

Somehow, she doubted these complexities of Cassius’s personality featured in the assessment of the maids. They simply basked in how close their roles brought them to the prince. And they resented her for sailing in and inserting herself even closer. And given guards and servants were in a similar class, they felt free to express their displeasure to her face, albeit in subtle ways.

It was something she’d never faced in her previous role. The maids didn’t care if she was close to Princess Miriam. In fact, she and the princess’s chief maid had been very friendly.

Her solitary attempt to be friendly to a Carrackian maid was disastrous enough to bring down the ire of the castle’s housekeeper.

It was three days after the training yard incident, and it all began when Flora encountered a familiar maid cleaning her own room. The girl was using a feather duster on the mantel, and Flora paused to greet her.

“Stirring up quite a lot of Dust there,” she said, giving her friendliest grin. “Impressive. And handy.”

The girl stared—or rather, glared—back. The silence stretched on for an uncomfortably long time before the maid gathered her duster and moved into the next room.

“Mim’s maid loved that joke,” she murmured to no one in particular as she moved out into the corridor.

Flora had forgotten all about the encounter when, three hours later, she was standing outside the prince’s door while he endured another visit from his mother. Flora had been privy to some previous ones. At first, she’d been encouraged that Queen Horatia seemed supportive of the alliance, but she quickly realized the queen was mainly interested in the lavish betrothal ball she would be called upon to host. She’d been bitterly disappointed when her son had returned without a bride.

If Flora hadn’t known better, she would have thought the queen frivolous and foolish. But she was too familiar with the intricacies of castle life to be deceived by appearances. She quickly grasped that while Queen Horatia intentionally kept out of matters of state, she ran the social aspects of the royal family’s life with absolute control. Her frustration at the cancelation of the ball wasn’t about missing the chance for revelry. It was about the impact on various nuanced social situations tied to the ball. Perhaps she’d promised a hopeful matron that she would orchestrate her daughter opening the dancing with a wealthy, single duke, or perhaps she intended to use the highly public event to corner someone into agreeing to something they wouldn’t in private.

Flora had seen it all before, and although she had little interest in that world, she understood how a certain type of royal might live and die by these events.

Queen Horatia had adapted quickly to the change in circumstances and had somehow convinced the king that the safe return of their son was cause enough for a gala. The queen was fully occupied in its preparation, and Flora was soon as thoroughly bored of hearing about it as she could tell Cassius was. She was glad to wait out the current interview in the hallway, although she heard occasional catches. The queen hadn’t succeeded in pushing the door all the way closed behind her. Not that it mattered—the interview was tedious, not sensitive. She could almost feel Cassius’s impatience and frustration through the mostly closed door.

About an hour after Queen Horatia disappeared into her son’s suite, a formidable woman approached the door. Flora had only seen her once or twice before, but the castle’s housekeeper was an important enough person to be instantly recognizable. The middle-aged woman ignored the other guard, her sharp gaze focused on Flora.

“You are the prince’s new female guard, I assume?” The woman’s greeting wasn’t friendly.

“That’s right,” said Flora cautiously.

The housekeeper lifted her head and studied Flora down her nose. “And I understand that you have a complaint regarding the cleanliness of your rooms?”

“What?” Flora frowned in confusion. “No, not at all.”

“If your accommodations are not sufficiently grand for your needs, young lady, you can easily be moved elsewhere. There are many available rooms in the servants’ wing.” She cast a look at Flora’s companion. “Or with the guards—no place for a respectable young lady, but I daresay you would manage.”

Flora disregarded the insult, too bewildered by the housekeeper’s attack. Naturally the servants were resentful that a guard had been given a lavish guest suite. But for the housekeeper herself to come and make an issue of it, Flora must have really gotten under everyone’s skin.

“I can assure you, I never dreamed of complaining about my accommodations,” Flora said firmly.

The housekeeper narrowed her eyes, and continued as if Flora hadn’t spoken. “My staff work tirelessly to keep the royal suites in the highest state of cleanliness, and I won’t have them spoken ill of, especially not by a foreigner who doesn’t know her station. ”

Flora was about to defend herself when she suddenly remembered the earlier interaction. Was it possible the maid hadn’t understood her joke?

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” she said. “If you’re referring to my comment to the maid in my room earlier, I—”

“Yes, there has been a misunderstanding,” the housekeeper cut her off. “You seem to understand yourself to be above the restrictions and responsibilities that apply to the rest of the guards. But you’re mistaken. We don’t consider guards to be foreign dignitaries, lass, no matter who they work for. So I’ll thank you to keep a respectful tongue when—”

“Is there a problem here?”

The prince’s smooth voice caused both Flora and the housekeeper to start. Flora hadn’t even noticed the conversation ceasing inside the prince’s receiving room, and she was very confident the housekeeper hadn’t observed the prince’s approach. She would never be speaking so freely if she had.

“I beg your pardon, Your Highness.” The housekeeper sank into a curtsy. “I apologize for disrupting you.”

“How about you apologize for berating my guard?”

Prince Cassius’s tone was formidable, and Flora felt a flash of sympathy for the older woman. She felt more sympathy for herself, however, along with a healthy dose of irritation. Did the prince really think that humiliating the staff on her behalf would improve her situation among the servants?

“Your Highness, I was merely following up on a complaint made by this young woman regarding her rooms.” There was definite resentment in the housekeeper’ s voice.

“The guard complained about her rooms?” The queen had appeared behind her son, one thin, sculpted eyebrow raised. “Bold, given the extraordinary degree of distinction she’s been shown.”

Flora bent her upper body in a respectful bow. “I can assure Your Majesty that there has been a misunderstanding. I have made no complaints regarding my accommodations, and I am fully aware of the undeserved honor I have been shown.”

The queen didn’t look convinced, but Prince Cassius stepped in.

“I find it inconceivable that Flora would complain about her accommodations.”

“Flora?” The queen’s eyebrow seemed to be attempting to meet her hairline.

“Yes, Mother, guards have names,” Prince Cassius said impatiently. “This one’s name is Flora.”

Flora resisted the urge to wave a greeting. It wasn’t the time to be flippant.

“I didn’t complain, Your Highness,” she said instead. “I attempted to make a joke regarding Dust, and I think the maid didn’t understand.”

“It seems a strange matter to joke about,” the queen said coolly. “I am not surprised our housekeeper was offended.”

“I was referring not to literal Dust, Your Majesty,” Flora explained. “I meant power. Magic, you know,” she added, when everyone stared blankly at her.

“I fail to picture how you spoke to the maid about magic and she heard it as a complaint regarding the dust in your room.”

Flora looked helplessly to Cassius. “Well, because there’s dust and then there’s Dust…” she tried .

Understanding blazed into the prince’s eyes. “They refer to magic as Dust in Siqual, don’t they? I remember hearing as much, but I’d forgotten all about it.”

“Do…do you not call it Dust here?” Flora asked.

“Of course not.” The queen’s delicate features perfectly communicated disdain. “Dust? What a boorish term for something of great intricacy and power. Something which, as I understand it, is your only significant skill. Do I take it you are an expert in dust, then?”

Flora was suddenly struggling to keep a straight face as the humor of it all hit her. As titles went, dust expert didn’t carry much dignity.

“I never claimed to be an expert, Your Majesty.”

“This hardly seems a matter worthy of such fuss,” Prince Cassius said with a note of finality. “I have other matters to attend to, Mother, so I’ll take my leave of you.”

With a respectful incline of his head, he left his mother in the doorway of his suite and strode off down the corridor. Flora and the other guard followed. Out of the prince’s range of vision, the man kept shooting her sideways looks that told her the incident would be recounted to the rest of the guards at the earliest opportunity.

The next couple of hours consisted of a report regarding the investigation into the attacks in Siqual and Torrens—containing a frustrating lack of progress—and a meeting with disgruntled members of the Smiths Guild who wished to dispute a new tariff the king had applied. The other guard changed shifts with a fellow, casting a calculating look at Flora when she remained in place.

The new guard wasn’t an improvement. They spent an hour standing outside the prince’s study while he met with some influential earl. It wasn’t a busy corridor, and the other guard took every witness-free opportunity to proposition Flora’s attention in a way she found extremely unpleasant.

“Do you think you’re above me?” the man asked eventually, growing angry with her expressionless silence. “Don’t pretend innocence—we’ve all seen the way you’ve led Russell on.”

This extremely unjust accusation regarding the guard whom Flora had beaten in the training yard almost broke her resolve to just ignore the man’s words.

“Or are you hoping to land a bigger prize?” the man taunted. “You may be some kind of favorite with the prince, but it won’t gain you anything. You’re more likely to be thrown off the guard than—”

The faint sound of a chair scraping within the study met Flora’s ears, and the guard broke off. By the time the door opened, he was standing at attention, no trace in his manner that he’d been speaking a moment earlier.

“Well, Your Highness, I trust you will consider the matter further, because I am not satisfied.”

“I will, My Lord.”

Prince Cassius’s manner strongly suggested he’d been the one to cut the conversation short. Flora could only be grateful. She knew a moment of discomfort as the nobleman strode away, and the prince studied her face for several seconds too long. His searching expression had her concerned that he might have overheard through the thick study door. But it was surely impossible—the other guard had spoken quietly. After another moment, the prince turned away, releasing her from his scrutiny.

They crossed an internal courtyard and emerged near the guards’ area.

“You may return to your captain,” Cassius told the other guard. “I have obligations to Her Majesty for the next hour, and your services won’t be required.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” The guard bowed to the prince, who’d already turned away. After a dark glance at Flora, he marched toward a clump of guards near the entrance to the training yard.

“Why did he look at you like that?”

Cassius’s voice had Flora looking up in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“The look that guard gave you as he walked away. It was venomous.”

She shuffled uncomfortably. He noticed much more than anyone would guess. “That seems an exaggeration, Your Highness,” she said.

Cassius was studying the departed guard as he spoke animatedly to the group of his fellows. A moment later, they all looked over at Flora. When they realized the prince was watching them, they withdrew their gaze, moving quickly into the training yard and out of sight.

“Exaggerating, am I?” Cassius asked her dryly.

Flora shrugged. “I don’t think he likes me much, Your Highness. I wouldn’t let it bother you.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t?”

She wasn’t fooled by the mild response.

“Did he seem overly interested in you?”

“I…” Flora shifted her weight from one foot to the other, very reluctant to discuss the matter with him. “He showed…some interest.”

Cassius frowned. “I should discover whom he was speaking with. I have some reason to think that Sir Keavling’s been speaking directly to some of my guards, which is well beyond his authority. If I discover that my own guards are spying on me to report to a nobleman, I’ll have them all dishonorably dismissed.” His eyes were narrowed in the direction the guards had disappeared. “I’d best find out the identity of each of those men.”

“It was nothing like that, Your Highness,” Flora said quickly, as the prince took a step in the direction of the training yard. “Truly.”

Cassius paused, eyeing her. “Then why could I feel your discomfort from my study? That’s why I cut the meeting short.”

“What do you mean you could feel my discomfort?” Flora asked, astonished.

“I don’t know,” said Cassius. “I can’t explain it. It’s not the first time I’ve suspected the tether connects us in other ways than we initially realized. I could tell he wasn’t having a friendly chat. I’d better find out more from the source—if he’s been asked to learn information about you, it could be important.”

Cassius’s expression was menacing as he turned toward the training yard again, and Flora reached out to grab his arm. His muscles tightened under her grip, and she released him quickly.

“Don’t ask him about it,” she said. “Please don’t. It will only make things worse for everyone involved.”

He turned to face her, giving her his full attention. “What do you mean? What was he saying?” When she didn’t reply, a warning note entered his voice. “Flora, tell me.”

“He’s just angry because I didn’t respond how he wanted to his…offers,” she blurted out. “That’s all. Nothing to do with Sir Keavling or anyone else.”

“His offers?” The prince’s voice was ominous. “What kind of offers? ”

She didn’t answer, and his brow darkened. Clearly he understood what she wasn’t saying.

“Is that supposed to reassure me?” he asked, the quiet menace in his voice sending a strange thrill down her spine. “I’ll have him thrown from my guard within the hour.”

“That would be an overreaction,” she assured him. “He wasn’t the first, and he won’t be the last.”

“I’ll have every one of them thrown out.” He still spoke with the calm of submerged anger.

“What will that achieve?” Flora asked him. She hoped the exasperation in her voice hid the foolish satisfaction she took from his eagerness to defend her. “I won’t pretend to enjoy that kind of attention, but your guards don’t know how to react to me. And why would they? Our circumstances are so absurd, they’re a farce.”

She held his gaze in a silent challenge. His eyes remained stormy for a long moment, until suddenly he deflated. With a groan so soft she barely heard it, he ran a hand over his face.

“It’s certainly a mess,” he acknowledged.

“Which is news to neither of us,” she reminded him. “Now, don’t you have an appointment with Her Majesty?”

“Not precisely,” he said, although he turned away from the training yard at last. “I have an appointment for my mother.” Taking in her confused expression, he sighed. “A fitting with the tailor. For tomorrow night’s ball.”

They rounded a corner, and Cassius glanced at her.

“You’ve had a busy morning, haven’t you? You’ve managed to antagonize both the servants and the guards.”

Flora chuckled, the sound a little pained. “I don’t think the courtiers are too fond of me either. I don’t have much success at making friends, do I? ”

“No one knows where you fit,” Cassius said. “You’re not a servant, not a guest, not anyone’s idea of a guard…”

“My position is awkward,” Flora conceded. “But I manage.”

“You manage very well,” Cassius agreed. “But that doesn’t make me feel better about the position you’ve been placed in.”

Flora disregarded this. “Do you really not refer to magic as Dust in Carrack?” she asked.

“No, we don’t,” he said. “I’m not sure I understand the logic of doing so.”

“Oh, you know, it’s because of…” Flora made a sweeping motion with her arm. Cassius just raised an eyebrow, so she added, “Movement stirs up Dust the way a puff of breeze might stir up literal dust. Just then, for example, I could sense the tiny cloud generated by the movement of my arm.”

“I suppose I can see that,” Cassius said doubtfully.

“It’s not just Siqual,” Flora told him. “Torrens and Dernan both use the term as well. I don’t know about Pulau, I suppose.” She named the island kingdom to the west of Torrens.

“Well, we don’t use it in Carrack. We just say power.”

“Hm.” She gave him a look. “Maybe your kingdom isn’t naturally grouped by customs with the rest of the Peninsula after all. Maybe your father and Sir Keavling are right that it should be considered part of the continent.”

Cassius made a disgruntled noise in his throat. “Not you, too.”

Flora grinned at him as they reached their destination. To her surprise, he waved her into the tailor’s room with him.

“Your Highness.” The tailor bowed, his eyes drifting to Flora then brightening. “Ah. This is the young lady in question, I take it?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Cassius confirmed.

Flora looked warily between them.

“Allow me to check your garment first, Your Highness,” the tailor said.

“Certainly.”

Flora tried to melt into the background, averting her eyes as the tailor assisted the prince out of his brocaded jacket and into the most lavishly embellished tunic she’d ever seen. It was a muted yellow color, and small suns were embroidered all over it. Tightly fitted long sleeves showed from underneath, but the tunic itself puffed out over the upper arm. The skirt of it flared out slightly over his leggings, and a thick chain of gold sat around his hips.

It was an excellent effect, and she had a feeling he knew it. He certainly didn’t show any sign of discomfort at her presence.

“That’s almost perfect, Your Highness,” the tailor said, satisfied. “I’ll fix that sleeve and have it delivered to your rooms.”

“Thank you,” said Cassius, shrugging carelessly out of the garment. He turned to Flora, perfectly at ease with his chest clad only in his tightly fitting undershirt. “Your turn.”

“I don’t think it will suit me as well, Your Highness,” said Flora lightly.

He gave her a look. “Very funny. I’ve ordered a garment for you as well.”

“What for?” she asked, startled.

Cassius was impatient. “For the ball, of course.”

“I’ll fetch it now,” the tailor said brightly, bustling from the room .

Flora spoke quickly into the privacy. “A new garment is unnecessary. I’ll wear my uniform.”

“No, you won’t.” Cassius shook his head. “You haven’t seen the grand ballroom yet, have you? It’s enormous. It would be near impossible for you to stay within the tether and still maintain the role of a guard. If you’re dressed more appropriately for a guest, you can try to blend in with the crowd.”

“Blend in?” Flora stared at him in disbelief. “Weren’t we speaking just before about how I’ve managed to antagonize half the castle? You think they won’t notice that I’m masquerading as a guest?”

“Better than you trailing between the dancers as a guard,” Cassius said.

“Can’t you just stay near the edges of the room?”

“I cannot.” The prince sounded genuinely regretful. “This event is being hosted by my mother, which means it will be beyond my power to avoid dancing with a string of hopeful young daughters of the court.”

The tailor re-entered the room, a young female assistant in tow, and their conversation ceased.

“It’s still very rough,” the man said to Cassius. “Without her exact measurements, I could only do so much. But it will be my top priority to get it done in time.”

“I appreciate it,” the prince said. “I know it’s outside your usual role.”

“It’s my pleasure.” The tailor cast an eye over Flora. “You are lovely, my dear, and very conveniently proportioned.”

“Thank…you?” It was perhaps the most unusual compliment Flora had ever received, and she could see Cassius grinning in the corner of her eye.

The man clicked his fingers, and the woman beside him unfurled a bundle of bright blue fabric she was holding in her hand.

“Come along, miss,” she said. “I’ll help you try it on.” She chivvied Flora into a small adjoining room and gestured for her to remove her garments.

Feeling incredibly vulnerable, Flora did so, eager to receive the dress when the alternative was being uncovered with this stranger. The girl helped slide the gown over Flora’s head and settle it around her, pulling the skirts into position.

“The sleeves are too loose,” she said. “But that can easily be fixed. The bodice isn’t too far off. Come on, then.” She made another chivvying motion.

“Back out there?” Flora asked nervously.

“Of course, miss,” said the assistant with a touch of impatience. “We can’t work in this cramped space.”

More self-conscious than she’d ever been in her life, Flora lifted the skirts and walked back into the tailor’s main room. Cassius’s eyes roved over her new attire before landing on her face. She caught the sparkle in his eyes and had no doubt he could sense her disapproval of the whole exercise.

“It’s a very nice color on you,” he said in mild tones.

Flora sent him as close to a glare as she dared, and saw his lips twitch appreciatively. She responded by flicking the voluminous skirt with unnecessary violence, swiftly harnessing the resulting Dust and using it to cause the prince’s hair to aggressively flatten into his eyes.

His chuckle suggested he was undaunted, although her actions earned Flora a scolding from the assistant who was trying to put pins in the gown.

“Yes, the coloring is excellent,” agreed the tailor blithely. “Let me see these sleeves. They’re not quite right. ”

He seized her shoulders and positioned her in front of a tall looking glass, giving her a clear view of the gown. Its neck formed a V, the edge surrounded by a thick band of embroidery. The bodice was very fitted, with sleeves that puffed out over the top half of her upper arms, then sat close against her skin the rest of the way down. The skirt, however, was fuller than anything she’d worn in years. It spread out around her like…well, like a tent, but that was because the hemming wasn’t done.

“Beautiful.”

The declaration brought her eyes flying to Cassius’s. He held her gaze for a moment before clearing his throat and transferring his attention to the tailor.

“Beautiful workmanship. It will do perfectly.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” The tailor beamed at the praise. “We will have it ready, never fear.”

The assistant hustled Flora back into the adjoining room and allowed her to change back into her normal clothes. Flora felt only marginally less exposed when she and the prince finally left.

“No good will come of this,” she predicted as they made their way down the corridor.

“Of what?” Cassius asked.

“Of dressing me up like a guest of the royal family and setting me loose to mingle with the real courtiers.”

Cassius didn’t seem daunted. “Setting you loose? You make it sound like you’re a pantherine we’ve managed to cage, that might eat all the guests if you get free.”

“Only if they provoke me,” Flora said solemnly.

Cassius laughed. “I might actually enjoy the ball if you were to let yourself loose in response to being provoked.”

“You don’t expect to enjoy it?” Flora asked curiously .

His eyes were unreadable as he considered her for an unusually long moment before responding.

“I don’t usually.” Something in his deep voice made her heart sputter strangely. “But I have a feeling tomorrow night might be the first time I do.”