Chapter Twenty-Six
The healer smeared a thick, chunky paste on Allyssa’s arm. The cool substance soothed her skin, making the wound numb. An involuntary sigh escaped her mouth.
“You’re quite lucky the infection is on the mend,” the healer said. “When you first arrived, I thought I’d have to remove your arm. Now look at you—the coloring is back to normal, and the wound isn’t pussing any longer.” After wiping her hands off on a towel, she wrapped a white cloth around Allyssa’s arm, covering the wound.
Allyssa kept her head turned, unable to even look at it. Her skin had been stitched together, making a section of her arm look like misshapen fabric sewn by a two-year-old. Not that she was particularly vain, but she would have a nasty scar, making it necessary to keep her upper arms concealed in order to avoid gossip.
“The string keeping your skin together can be removed next week.” The healer rolled Allyssa’s sleeve down and took a step away from the bed.
“What about my ribs?” They ached as if kicked by a horse. She just wanted to feel normal again—if that was even possible after what she’d been through.
The elderly woman kindly smiled. “I’m afraid they’ll take a bit longer to heal. Nothing can be done for bruised ribs except keeping your torso wrapped. Same with your leg.”
“Can I travel?” Being stuck in bed was making her edgy. Knowing what her kingdom had been through and that her parents still believed her to be dead was chipping away at her bit by bit. She couldn’t remain in Fren much longer.
“You are free to resume normal activity so long as you don’t overdo it.” She patted Allyssa’s good leg, oblivious that she was a princess. “Anything else, dear?”
“No, that will be all. Thank you for your kindness.”
“Here are some herbs in case the pain becomes a bit too much for you. However, I suspect you won’t need them. You’re a strong one.” She set a jar on the table and left.
Carefully climbing out of bed, Allyssa stretched her sore leg and wandered over to the armoire. She ran her fingers over the delicate fabric of the dresses that had been delivered earlier in the day. It had been at least a season since she’d worn something so fine.
“You shouldn’t be standing, miss,” Becka said as she entered the room, carrying a tray of food.
“The healer said I could resume normal activity.”
She set the tray down. “That’s wonderful news.”
It was time to play the part of the princess, meet the king and queen of Fren, and return home to Emperion. As much as Odar might want to keep her hidden at Fren’s palace, it wasn’t the right thing to do. And she had no intention living her life locked away in some room just because it was safe. Taking a deep breath, she stood tall, her back straight and her chin raised. “I want you to assist me while I dress.” Her voice turned firm and authoritative. She was done taking orders from other people.
“What about your food? It’s going to get cold.”
“You will address me by my given name, Crown Princess Allyssa of Emperion.”
The servant’s eyes grew wide and she curtseyed, bowing her head. “Yes, Your Highness. I…I’m sorry I didn’t know sooner. Please forgive me.”
While Allyssa hated to put on airs, it had to be done. If she learned anything during her time in Russek, it was that she was not only honored to be the heir of Emperion, but she also wanted to lead her kingdom. Before, she’d resented the formalities that came with the title and position. Now, she understood and welcomed the role she needed to play.
“I am without my ladies-in-waiting and need someone to attend me.”
“I would be honored to help, Your Highness.” Becka rushed over to the dresses and lifted the yellow silk one off its hooks.
Although Allyssa could stand and walk about the room with minimal pain, she had difficulty stepping into the dress. The servant loosely cinched it around her torso, taking care not to hurt her. Allyssa stared at herself in the mirror, barely recognizing the image before her. A sallow face, sunken eyes, and her usually tan skin had a sickly yellow hue to it. She quickly averted her eyes.
“If you’d like, I can apply some dusting powder,” Becka suggested, “and braid your hair in the latest Fren fashion.” A smile spread across her face.
“That would be lovely. Thank you.” While Becka fussed over her, she wondered what the Fren court would be like. Odar had said it was similar to Emperion’s. Would the king and queen be kind? She couldn’t recall Odar talking that much about his parents, just little tidbits here and there. Suddenly nervous, she began fidgeting with her fingers.
“Did you bring your crown, Your Highness?”
“No.” She had never attended court without it. The crown used to feel heavy—like a cage tying her to her destiny. Now, without it, she felt naked and yearned for the one thing she’d fought so hard to break free from.
“There,” Becka said proudly. “Now you’re presentable.”
“Please inform the king and queen that I wish to speak with them.
“Of course, Your Highness. Please wait here while I fetch a messenger.” She curtseyed and left.
Where was Odar? She hadn’t seen him since yesterday when he poked his head in her room for a brief moment. It would be nice to have him by her side when she met his parents. However, sitting in this room, waiting for him to arrange the meeting, wasn’t an option. Her parents needed her, and she would not be caged any longer. Pacing before the fireplace, she not so patiently waited for Becka to return. After what seemed like much longer than necessary, the door swung open.
The servant stood in the hallway, accompanied by a dozen soldiers. “Your Highness,” she said. “This is Officer Allek.” She motioned to the man standing on her right.
He had black hair, brown eyes, and a short, clipped beard. “I will escort you to the Throne Room,” he said with a bow. “These men and I have been assigned for your protection.” The men in this particular squad appeared to be roughly in their mid-to-late twenties, Allek the oldest among them.
“Thank you, Officer.” She strode into the hallway, Allek immediately at her side. “Since this is my first time in Fren, I would appreciate any advice on etiquette and customs that you can provide about your kingdom.” They started walking, the rest of the soldiers taking up formation behind the two of them.
“I would be honored, Your Highness. Are you from Emperion?”
“I am.” Walking along the hallway, she was struck by the bright openness of the palace. Polished white marble floors and pale stone walls gave the entire place an airy feeling. The rounded ceilings were covered with intricate paintings—the sky dotted with stars, horses racing across fields, and even people farming the land.