Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

T he chambers I was assigned were spacious and well-decorated, but not nearly as lavishly as Odette’s had been back in Ebora. The balcony opened onto a majestic view of the waves in the distance, with vividly green palm trees waving in the wind between the castle and the beach. Ship masts broke up the flat line of the reflective ocean meeting the sky.

An ornate bed frame filled the majority of the sleeping chamber, with depictions of oceanic creatures carved into the four posters, and pink lilies overflowed the delicate crystal vase sitting on the bedside table. Their fragrant scent mingled with the salty tang of the breeze that made the thin blue curtains sway and dance about, looking just as much a part of the ocean as the view beyond the castle’s grounds.

“Your things, my lady.” One of the handmaidens waved in several footmen, all laden down with Odette’s trunks, which were deposited in the antechamber. “We’re here to help you settle in. There is a bath already prepared.”

“My deepest gratitude,” I gushed with a gracious smile, determined to win favors and influence rather than replicate Odette’s personality. “I sincerely appreciate your efforts to make me feel at home here, especially since my own handmaiden was unable to make the voyage.”

The handmaiden beamed as she dropped a curtsy and busied herself with unpacking the trunks, hanging gowns, and organizing Odette’s—no my —belongings. I allowed myself a brief moment to imagine Odette’s arrival at whatever servants’ quarters she was to be assigned. How I hoped her bedding would be filled with mice or mold. Her shrill, squealing voice echoed inside my head, panicked over what commoners regularly endured, and I didn’t think I would ever hear a better sound than the one I dreamed up.

The bath that followed my arrival was the longest and most luxurious I’d ever taken in my life. Gone was the frigid water, harsh soap, and stiff-bristled wash brushes of the servants’ communal bathing area back home, replaced by warm water scented with oils and flower petals. By the time I emerged from the bath, I had not only scrubbed away the salt from my voyage and any residual dirt that had settled on me from the last hour of traveling, but also my lowly status and any possible reservations about the mission ahead of me.

No such luxuries should ever be afforded to royalty while commoners starved and were abused; we were all human and deserved equal treatment. This royal family was no different than Raquel and Odette, profiting off the backs of servants and the working class while doing nothing but taking long bubble baths as I’d just done.

I stared at the reflection in my mirror as a handmaiden dried and styled my hair. Odette’s gowns fit as if they’d been made for me, but the silk felt odd against my skin. Perhaps it was the combination of the fine fabric against my freshly washed body, but it felt so foreign to me that I couldn’t get used to the slippery sensation.

“Odette?” Tess poked her head into my chambers then let her jaw drop comically. “You look so pretty!” She bounced over and sat next to me on a stool. “Gerta, you did a good job on her hair.”

“You’re always a shameless flatterer, Your Highness,” Gerta said, failing to hide her pleased smile. I observed their interaction with interest, wondering if Odette had ever offered any servant a compliment.

“Korth says that the truth must never be hidden,” Tess stated brightly. “Oh, that reminds me. Korth wanted to take you on a walk and ask you about the lodging preferences of some of the attendants who came with you.” She fiddled with the various powders and creams set on the vanity, occasionally lifting one to examine or pat on her cheeks. “He’s waiting to take you on a stroll around the lake before dinner.”

I tilted my chin up as Gerta applied stain to my lips. Once she was done, I turned to Tess. “When you say he’s waiting…”

“He’s outside your door right now,” Tess informed me, closing one eye while she held my empty water glass up to her opened eye. “If you do this, you’ll feel like a pirate. Did you see any pirates on your trip here? I was going to meet one last year but Mama said I wasn’t allowed.”

“I can’t keep him waiting.” I began to rise to meet Korth, but Tess blinked at me, lowering the glass.

“You don’t need to hurry. Korth said he doesn’t mind waiting for you as long as you need.”

“That doesn’t mean I should make him wait longer than is necessary.”

Tess’s eyes were wide and dark as she stared at me. “My brother never says anything he doesn’t mean. If he says he doesn’t mind waiting, then he doesn’t mind waiting.”

Gerta finished making me presentable in no time at all. Tess bounded ahead of me and pulled the door open herself. “Korth!” she chirruped. “Odette is ready and she looks preeeetty.” She stretched out the last word in a singsong manner.

Korth’s eyes widened when I emerged, and he hastened to offer me his elbow. Beneath my fingers, his arm was just as stiff as his posture. It rather felt like holding on to a statue instead of a living, breathing man.

“Goodbye!” Tess trilled, and skipped away down the hall, leaving us nearly alone. Thirty paces back, a manservant followed us, discreetly keeping his distance so he was out of earshot, but still able to see us clearly.

“Your sister is a little ball of sunshine.”

“She’s very animated,” Korth agreed as he held a door open for me. His face remained rigid, but his tone softened. “Are your lodgings satisfactory?”

“They’re perfect. Just right for after a long voyage.”

“Your attendants have been given accommodations in the barracks or the servants’ quarters, but one father and his adult children requested special living quarters so they could stay together. Did you have anything in particular in mind for them?”

“Oh yes, one of my guards has his son and daughter with him. I had intended to ask you if there were any open positions for families. Maybe something with livestock, though the girl has a fear of horses. It’s tragic, really. Their mother was taken by the sirens and the daughter began having hallucinations and hearing voices. Either her brother or her father has to stay with her all the time to help her distinguish reality from fantasy.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Korth said, and I was pleased to hear a note of real regret in his voice. At least he had some sort of emotions after all.

“She sometimes thinks she is someone she’s not or doesn’t remember who her family members are. Her father was hoping that a change of scenery would help her regain her real memories.”

Korth remained quiet as he mused over the problem while we made our way through the gardens toward the lake. “They don’t have experience beekeeping, do they?”

“I don’t believe so.” The moment I said it, I regretted it. I could have had Odette stung by bees over and over and had missed the opportunity, though I supposed that would have meant Garrik and Curdy would endure the torture as well.

He nodded. “We have enough gardeners, but I suppose we could find something. Our head housekeeper, Merida, would know better than I would.”

“They aren’t afraid of hard work,” I hinted. “The girl’s mind wanders most when she doesn’t have enough to do.”

“It is difficult to have a family member who suffers memory loss,” Korth murmured, so quietly that I could barely hear him and wasn’t even sure if he intended me to.

Soon, we reached the lake. Weeping willows grew on the far side from the castle, slender branches dipping into the water and entwining with the reeds and cattails lining the shore. Occasionally, a ripple would appear in the lake when a fish broke the surface, but the lake was fairly still other than a gaggle of geese gliding across the water’s surface. Their white feathers provided a stark contrast to the lake’s deep blue while they honked at the afternoon sun, their slender necks stretched out as they called.

“Would they be interested in tending the geese?” Korth asked. “I believe Merida mentioned we were in need. There is a small cottage there, but it isn’t in very good repair right now.” He gestured at the small, dilapidated house set so far back that I could barely see it between the shaded trees.

The idea of Odette being confined to a tiny shack on the outskirts of the grounds and tending smelly geese who likely would chase her was the most glorious thing I could have imagined, even better than being stung repeatedly by bees. “I think that would be perfect for them.”

“I’m glad to hear it; I’ll let Merida know as soon as we return.” Korth’s eyes were still fixed forward, staring at the distant lake.

Determined to not let conversation lag, I noted, “Tess told me you never say anything you don’t mean.”

“That’s true,” he said simply. “No one should.”

“If only everyone shared your integrity,” I said, giving his bicep a light squeeze. I hadn’t thought his arm could get any more tense, but it did.

Silence swelled between us, and I felt torn on how to address it. I was doing my utmost to coax conversation out of him, but Korth seemed determined to give as few words as possible. How was I supposed to convince this man to fall in love with me when I could barely get him to say a few words at a time? I’d assumed that the prince I was going to marry would be outgoing and confident. Was he simply shy, or was it something more? Was he perhaps unhappy with the arranged marriage? Odette certainly had been, and Korth had every right to share her feelings.

My stomach churned as the knowledge that the falsified letter would be arriving in two weeks suddenly felt like a looming deadline. Declan would be setting sail with it soon.

“You’ve been very quiet since my arrival,” I told Korth.

His eyes flicked over to me, but he didn’t respond.

“I understand if my coming here interfered with another relationship you might have developed during my absence.”

Korth’s face reddened and he spluttered, “No! I never would have; we’ve been betrothed since childhood. I wouldn’t betray your trust.” Then the coloring in his face drained away just as rapidly as it had reddened. “You said you would understand…have…have you, you know…” All of his princely dignity had evaporated and he barely managed to whisper, “seen other people?”

“Of course not; we’re engaged. I just wondered why you aren’t talking to me.”

Finally, finally, a measure of tension left his body. After walking a few more paces, Korth once again snuck the slip of paper out of his pocket.

As his eyes dropped down to examine it, I spoke up. “Why do you carry that?”

Korth jumped and shoved the paper out of sight. “I…it’s just notes.”

“Questions to ask me in case you run out of things to say?” I asked slyly, unable to restrain myself from a tiny bit of teasing.

He flushed and slowly withdrew the paper. “You can look if you want.”

Curious, I took it and smoothed it out the best I could. There, in the neatest handwriting I’d ever seen, was a list of questions. From simple queries about favorite foods and hobbies at the top of the list right down to more serious ones like my comfort level in participating in drafting laws and how many children I wanted.

“This is a very thorough list,” I told him, genuinely impressed at his attention to detail. It must have been comprised of nearly fifty questions. “But I must ask, why the need for it? We’re engaged to be married; you can ask me anything at any time.”

A thick vein in Korth’s neck throbbed. “I wanted to be prepared in case I got nervous. I’ve never been in a relationship like this before.”

“What sort of relationship do you mean?” I blinked, feigning ignorance just to see him squirm.

“You know, a…a romantic one.” Korth mumbled the words, his face looking hot enough to fry an egg.

“Ah, yes. I’m very much looking forward to that aspect of our relationship.” I shot a glance behind us at the manservant, who still shadowed us like some dog from the streets after someone gave him a morsel of food. The middle-aged man even looked somewhat like an old hunting dog, with a broad and bulbous nose and ears that seemed to hang halfway to his shoulders. He walked with a slight limp, but each step was purposeful, again reminding me of a faithful hound who would tail his master to the very end. “Will he always follow us?”

“Um—yes. Until we’re married, we can’t be alone together; we need a chaperone. His name is Godfrey.”

“I see. Is it because you’re worried that I might make advances, or should I be worried about such things from you?” I inclined my head and whispered, “Are you a dangerous man to be alone with?”

Korth’s ears darkened to maroon, and he began spluttering again. He really was cute when he was flustered. “No, I’m not. It’s just that…the rules! And…to protect your reputation.”

“Ah, yes, we can’t have you sullying my reputation. That would be quite the scandal.”

Korth’s eyes darted around and his movement became so stiff it was as though he had become a nutcracker. I tilted my head curiously. Had he never been flirted with before? If he didn’t know how to respond, it could either make my task much easier or much more difficult.

“To answer some of your questions,” I began, delicately waving his paper as I elected to ease his discomfort, “my favorite childhood memory is swimming in the oceans before the sirens came. I would be delighted to participate in drafting any laws or legal proceedings that require my input. As your wife, I anticipate contributing politically and will honor my commitments with as much dedication as I can. I sing alto and play the harp, though I prefer to listen rather than perform. And I’d like three children.” I folded the paper and handed it back to him. “You can surprise me with which ones you ask next, and I will welcome them all. Also, it wasn’t one of your questions, but I prefer natural conversation.”

Some of the redness had faded from Korth’s neck and ears, and his arm relaxed beneath my fingers as I looped my arm into the crook of his elbow again.

“I can’t think of any other questions right now,” he admitted.

The geese waddled onto land, stretching their necks out and flapping their wings as they honked. Korth adjusted us so that he was between the birds and me. “They aren’t always the friendliest,” he explained apologetically. “We can’t seem to keep a good gooseherd; they always quit and say that it’s too smelly and messy. I hope the family is prepared.”

“Servants are allowed to quit?” I asked in astonishment. If only the castle servants in Ebora had such freedom.

“Of course. Employment is voluntary, not mandatory.”

I chewed on my tongue, digesting his use of the word employment . “You pay all of your servants?”

Korth’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Naturally. Do…do you not?”

“Not always,” I noted, surprised by the look of shock on Korth’s face. “Many work in exchange for housing and food and nothing more.”

His arm tightened under my arm once more. “I must voice my strongest objection to such laws. That will never be allowed here and I cannot condone such behavior. If you expect such treatment of the servants here, I would hesitate to move forward with?—”

“I’m working to get that changed,” I told him quickly. It was more truthful than Korth could ever know. “My father has a few reservations, but I feel like it would be best for the people.”

Korth’s chin stayed perfectly parallel to the ground, a model of rigidity once more. His brows stayed knotted. Panic fluttered in my stomach. If Odette had come as planned, it very well may have been that Korth would have broken their betrothal and sent her packing. But I couldn’t allow that to happen, not now. We needed his army.

“You know,” I said with a winning smile, “this was one of the reasons I was so eager for our union; I wish to adopt more of your practices in our kingdom.”

“Oh.” Korth cleared his throat and fell silent. I couldn’t tell if he was struggling to find words or was done with the topic. “I see.”

“My turn to ask you a question.”

For the rest of the walk, I did my best to get Korth to open up to me, but with little success.