My heart stuttered at the question and the implication. I looked familiar. “N-No, Your Highness. We’ve never met. I’ve never even been to Lagonia before.”
He still clung my chin, looking me over. I held my composure and tried not to think about how I must look—shorn hair stiff with mud from the bowels of the earth. I clutched the shredded edges of my tunic with a single hand, hugging my modesty close.
There were so many people watching, devouring me with their judging eyes. I heard their low murmurs, and the shifting of countless slippered feet. Here they wore kid slippers that never stepped from the sanctuary of this city. They had no need of sturdy boots like I wore.
“You’re familiar,” the king finally concluded. “It will be interesting to see you without this layer of filth.” He released my chin. “The rose suite it is.”
He left me, ascending the steps.
“The rose suite is beautiful, Luna. It’s in a corner tower. Excellent view,” Chasan remarked, his tone conversational and cordial, as though I were an invited guest and not some manner of peasant in their eyes. “Enjoy it.”
I nodded, my legs trembling as a servant arrived to lead me up the steps and into the palace.
TEN
Luna
EVEN WHEN I lived in comfort with Sivo and Perla, I had never known luxury like what waited for me in the rose suite.
Three women attended me, chattering amicably as they dunked me in a copper tub full of warm, scented water—this after they exclaimed in horror over my shorn hair and ruined garments.
They gossiped. Names of people I didn’t know bounced off me. It was just as well. It was hard to think as they lathered my aching muscles with sweet-smelling soap. One scrubbed at my nails, determined to rid them of their grime. My head drooped under their ministrations.
Any modesty I had in those early moments fled. They scrubbed every inch of my skin until it felt raw and new. Following that, they guided me out of the tub and wrapped me in a fluffy, stone-warmed towel. They led me over a plush rug to a thick cushioned bench positioned before a dressing table, where they proceeded to lather me with lotions that made my skin sigh in appreciation. I perked up at the mention of Chasan’s name.
“Did you hear about Prince Chasan and Susa?”
“The girl who works in the laundry?”
A knowing hmm responded to that. “That’s what you get for aiming above your station,” the servant woman added. “She always did think too highly of herself.”
The servant who was rubbing a silky mixture in my hair clucked her tongue. “What was she thinking? He would make her his queen? Ha! The fool.”
The three of them made sounds of agreement over this. I listened, fascinated despite myself.
“That Susa never did possess a peck of common sense. Everyone knows that Prince Chasan enjoys a pretty face. Only the very stupid think they can matter to him beyond the moment.”
“Well, Susa’s just like her mother. Fair of face, empty of head.” More laughter followed, but I was beginning to get a sense of who the prince of Lagonia was. I had heard the arrogance in his voice, but now I knew the full extent. He was handsome and powerful, preying on the girls of his kingdom.
Once I was clean and feeling like a new person, they dressed me in a gown that laced up at the front.
“We need to fatten you up,” one of the women said, offering me a tray of iced biscuits. I knew the pastries were before me instantly. I smelled the sticky-sweet icing as my fingertips sank into the goodness. I moaned as I bit into one, the warm biscuit giving way under my teeth the same moment the creamy icing hit my tongue. It was bliss.
“Careful not to get it on your gown,” one of the servants chided.
I nodded and reached for another one, practically shoveling it into my mouth.
“Gor, never did see such a little thing eat with such a fury.”
A heavy door creaked open. I didn’t stop inhaling the biscuit, assuming it was another servant; a female from the sound of her slight tread.
I plucked a third biscuit and proceeded to devour it as thoroughly as I did the first two.
A slight giggle penetrated my love affair with the delicious pastries.
“Careful there. You might eat your fingers.” This new arrival didn’t sound like the other servant women. Despite her giggling, her voice was youthful and she fairly bounced as she walked, the fine satin of her gown swishing as she advanced into the room.
I chewed fiercely, trying to swallow the last bit of biscuit. Holding fingers to my lips, I attempted an apology.
“Oh, I’m just teasing. Keep eating. You look as though you need it.”
I gulped down the last of my mouthful. “It’s very good,” I said as an attempt at an excuse.
“Cook is a wonder. He could make a stick of wood the most scrumptious thing to cross your lips. Not that I’ve ever eaten wood.”
I smiled at her exuberance and shook my head. “Who are you?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m prattling on.” She cleared her throat. “I’m Maris, princess of Lagonia.”