Chapter 28
I had long since finished my dinner, which felt as though it had lasted an eternity, and still Nerissea had not returned. I even completed reading a small book though I could no longer recall a single thing it contained. My thoughts had wandered far too often.
At last, I rose and opened the door, peering out into the corridor where two maids stood.
"Pardon me, but may I inquire as to Nerissea's whereabouts?"
"She should be sleeping," came Princess Yseldra's voice from further down the hall, making her approach.
I turned sharply. "Your Highness!" I called with quiet delight. I longed to run to her, yet I dared not risk such folly in these heels. I could not bring myself to make a spectacle before her.
"It is 'Your Majesty' now," she gave me a playful smirk. "I ascended the throne today."
"Your Majesty," I corrected myself at once, flustered. My composure returned only enough for me to speak what pressed upon my heart. "I offer my deepest condolences for the loss of those you loved."
She stepped into the study and drew me inside with her. "Accidents happen," she said calmly.
"May I ask… how did they pass?" I asked cautiously as she led me to her desk.
"Let us speak of something else, shall we?"
It was plain that she wished not to linger upon her sorrow. I understood, yet my mind swelled with unspoken questions. How had the coronation passed? Why was I not invited? Where had it been held? If it had taken place within these very walls, why had no word reached me? And more.
Each question might weigh upon her already burdened mind, and I dared not add to her troubles.
"Does Nerissea truly require a separate supper prepared just for her?" I asked. It felt like a safe question. And I was most curious.
She chuckled. "Indeed."
"How is it different?"
"I shall tell you later."
Upon reaching her desk, she lifted the letter I had left and read it. Her lips curved into a smile, and for the smallest moment I fancied there was a glimmer of malice within her golden eyes.
I rubbed my eyes. I must be weary, for the long and jarring carriage ride has surely unsettled my mind.
She turned to me, folding the letter. "Well done. I shall see it delivered at once. No doubt your family will be greatly comforted upon receiving it."
I nodded quickly, my heart lightened. Her thoughts mirrored my own. "Thank you for your kindness, Your Majesty."
"Anything for you," she replied as she passed by me and made her way to the door.
"Your Majesty," I called, stepping after her. "Will you not stay?"
"I am expected at a meeting. I cannot say when it shall conclude."
"When it does… will you return to your study?"
"I shall."
She departed without another word.
Left alone, I made my way to the sofa and sat down, resolving quietly to wait for her return.
---
Morning light slipped through the tall windows and I found myself waking upon the very sofa where Nerissea had lain the day before. I must have fallen asleep before Queen Yseldra came back.
A chill slipped over my skin. The hearth had long gone cold, and the room had grown rather frigid. I stood quickly, for my heart ached to see my beloved.
Opening the door, I asked a maid station by, "Might I be shown to Her Majesty's bedchamber?"
"We beg your pardon, Lady Naevia," one of the maids said. "We have been instructed to escort you to your guest chamber and prepare you for the day."
"Ah… y-yes," I murmured, lowering my eyes as my shoulders curled inward with shame. How foolish of me to ask about Her Majesty at such an hour. She was Queen now. Her mornings must be claimed by matters far beyond my reach.
I followed the maids, though my heart wished to inquire about Nerissea. But having already made myself seem overbold, I thought it best to keep silent.
As before, the maids attended to me, fussing over every detail until I resembled a perfect lady. Then came breakfast. Once the dishes were cleared and they at last withdrew, I found myself unsure of what to do.
The tall windows drew my gaze. The sky had grown pale, and I could feel winter's breath upon the breeze. I moved awkwardly in my heeled shoes to take the white cloak left for me, draped over the back of a chair. As I secured it about my shoulders, a warmth bloomed in my chest. Everyone in the palace wore black cloaks bearing the Valebrinth crest, but Her Majesty had given me white. She had remembered my favorite color.
I stepped out into the corridor where the two maids posted outside bowed. I inclined my head in return.
"I should very much like to take a walk," I said. "Might I be directed to the imperial garden?"
The frost had not yet claimed the earth entirely, and since I had heard no word of Her Majesty or Nerissea, I thought to pass the morning in the garden. Her Majesty had told me I was safe here. That I was free to wander.
"Right this way," one of them said, extending her hand toward the left corridor. "We shall accompany you, Lady Naevia."
"Oh, there is no need, truly," I replied. It was most kind of them to offer their company, yet I felt a touch of guilt. The corridors within were warm and comfortable, but outside the chill crept in surely. No one ought to suffer discomfort on my behalf.
"We were assigned to your service for the duration of your stay, Lady Naevia," the other maid explained.
I could not help the smile that rose to my lips. Her Majesty's goodness knew no end. But still, I could not bear to drag them into the cold for such a small thing as a stroll.
"It is quite all right," I said. "Do stay indoors where it is warm."
They glanced at one another, then bowed. They gave me directions to the garden, and I set off alone. But I did not get far. After descending a few flights of grand staircases and navigating several turns, my feet began to ache most terribly. I dared not remove the heels in plain sight. I glanced around and, finding no one near, slipped quietly onto a bench nestled behind a screen of tall hedges. Concealed from view now, I removed the heels at last and pressed gently at my sore feet. Once the ache had dulled, I slipped the shoes back on.
There were whispers beyond the hedge.
"Good. She ought to be reminded of her station. How dare a mere slave be treated above the rest of us," came a woman's voice.
"What vexes me most is how she remains so perfectly composed through it all," murmured another.
"We ought to stop now. She may not report us to Her Majesty, but what if she tells Lady Naevia?" said a third.
"She has not spoken a word for years. Why should that change now?"
"I often wonder why she never reports what we do to her."
"I cannot abide her. Those gowns she wears should have been ours."
"Worry not," came a cruel laugh. "Last evening, I added soil to her soup."
My heart turned to ice.