“Good evening, Pia,” Maray kept her expression pulled together in an appropriate royal look. Pia seemed to be a lot younger than the rest of the girls around, and for some reason, she seemed to be a lot less bothered by protocol than the rest, as well.
“Your Royal Highness,” a dark-haired girl stepped forward and held out a necklace made of some gemstone she had never seen. “This is for your attire for the ceremony.”
Maray found the necklace to be of poor taste, bulky, and not at all her style but inclined her head in an attempt to appear pleased. Behind the girl, Pia shook her head at the chain of oversized rocks.
“My family, the Goley, will be pleased to know Her Royal Highness liked the present.” The girl curtseyed.
“Tell your family I am honored to wear the jewels tonight.” Maray didn’t sound like herself as she spoke. She was drifting entirely into a role of pleasing others for the sake of keeping up the image of the Cornay family. But was that who she was? A ‘likable’ royal?
The girl stepped away, practically glowing with excitement about her statement, and Pia stepped to Maray’s side, armed with a hairbrush, and got to work. “Britta now thinks she will win this,” she informed Maray in a whisper, and Maray realized with horror that she hadn’t thought about what impact her statements would have on the girls’ expectations. Was the girl with the gown from breakfast also thinking she had been chosen? Had she indicated she was bribable?
“I know,” Pia commented on Maray’s expression. “Now you know why being a Yutu seems like less of a challenge?”
Maray nodded absently. “You grew up in court, Pia,” She turned to the ginger-haired girl, and a set of emerald eyes stared back with a disgruntled look.
Pia nodded. In the background the two other girls were roaming Maray’s closet, whispering about what impractical gown would fit the hideous necklace best.
“And you are so young.” Maray studied Pia’s smooth face. “Why would you want to become a handmaiden? You could do anything you want.”
“That’s exactly it,” Pia muttered. “Mom wants me to get engaged to some noble guy of higher station to ensure our family’s wealth. And I am too young, if you know what I mean.”
This sounded more like medieval Europe than Maray liked to hear. “Ouch.”
“Exactly.” Pia’s face changed from the brave little girl to a pleading child. “Please, Maray. If you let me become your handmaiden, I swear I’ll let you choose the clothes. I’ll even let you wear those strange pants you brought from the other world, and I’ll be more of a bodyguard than an annoying girl who is playing ‘dress up the princess’. Please. I won’t get on your nerves or interfere with your privacy. All I want is to be out of Mom’s reach so she can’t just sell me to some stranger for another estate and jewels.”
Maray didn’t know what to say. A thin layer of moisture had formed in Pia’s eyes. And before Maray was ready to give an answer, the other two girls returned with proud faces, having settled on an equally hideous gown in a brownish tint and lots of lace on the side. Pia wiped her eyes with a nonchalant gesture and hid her face behind her wild hair.
“This is an excellent choice, Britta,” Pia praised the girl with a subdued edge of mockery which, while Britta and the other girl didn’t notice, didn’t slip Maray’s attention.
“Yes, great choice,” Maray agreed and glanced up at Pia, who was now hiding a chuckle, face-all-brave-girl again.
For the rest of the dressing, Maray remained silent. She nodded politely when the girls asked if she was ready to undress, and let them unlace the dress she was wearing, then lifted her arms, a pro by now in the process of having clothes that one never could get in or out of without the aid of a handmaiden who knew what she was doing. Secretly she longed for her simple wardrobe from the Vienna of the other world, her sweaters, sneakers, and tank tops.
She ignored the itchy fabric as they slid the new dress over her head and took a deep breath as they laced it in the back so the corset wouldn’t be too tight. Pia noticed and winked. “I do that too,” she whispered.
When it was time to leave for the dumpling dinner, Maray’s neck was hurting from the heavy necklace. Pia opened the door for her, and outside, again, was Heck, suppressing a full-blown laugh as he took in her appearance.
“I know,” Maray mouthed, and started walking.
Heck fell into step beside her, leaving the girls trailing them to the dining hall.
“How do you fit even one dumpling into this?” He asked and gestured at her dress.
Maray shrugged. “I suppose I am not going to be eating at all tonight—not if I want to be able to breathe.”
Heck chuckled. He was still rebellious Heck, but a shade of noble Heck had lingered from the breakfast with her parents. There was more of him in every gesture and less of the kid who was running from what his parents had in store for him. In a way, she admired how effortlessly he defied his family’s wishes. On the other hand, it must cost him a lot. His relationship with his family wasn’t exactly the best.
“Where is Jemin?” Maray asked, surprised that Heck had been allowed to do shifts twice today while Jemin had remained absent all day.
Heck’s face darkened, and he glanced over his shoulder, checking whether the distance between them and the girls was wide enough so they wouldn’t be overheard—except for Pia. Her Yutu-senses would let her hear even the lowest of whispers.
“He found a track that could be connected to the crimson-eyed guy.”
Maray’s stomach plunged into her knees. “He is out there alone?”
“Of course not.” Heck shook his head, but something in his eyes told Maray he was more concerned than he let on. “Neelis is with him. The only thing that can track a Yutu better than Jemin is a Yutu.”
Maray glanced back at the girls and found Pia discretely nodding at her.
“We shouldn’t be talking about this with all the people around,” Heck added. “You need to put on your pretty Princess-face, and I need to make sure you are never unprotected—not even for a second.” He winked, more the Heck she knew again. “At least, that’s what your Mom told me to do.”
“Yeah, what was up with breakfast this morning?” Maray wanted to know and sounded a lot like the other world Maray she used to be.
They passed more guards as they made it to the dining hall, and a small crowd of people were waiting, beginning along a U-shaped table, some of whose faces Maray had seen before at lunch, the council meetings, or even at the forsaken emergency meeting before Rhia had shown up. On one side of the room, there were round tables occupied by the rest of the girls who were hoping to be chosen as a handmaiden. Maray swallowed at their expectant gazes but soon found their stares were nothing compared to the ones of the people at the main table. She realized those must be the parents of the girls’ noble families waiting to gain direct access to the royal family by having their daughters care for the Princess.
Maray inclined her head and turned around to dismiss the girls, who all curtseyed and retreated to their tables before she marched to the empty chair next to her mother.
Heck followed her like a lapdog until he finally stood behind her with a foot or two between them, hand on his sword, face tense.
“Let the feast begin,” Laura said almost immediately, not giving Maray much time to become nervous.
Instantly, the doors bounced open, and a group of servants entered with silver platers, which they set down in front of the hungry audience, starting with Laura, Gerwin, and Maray.
“Thank you,” Maray whispered and earned a sideways look from her mother, which probably was a warning not to talk to the servants. Maray smoothened a grin. It was in her nature to appreciate people’s efforts, and not let others tend to her needs. She had done the cooking and washing up in their old household after Laura had left, and she knew what it meant to get things done, cooked, and ready. If they were tasty, it was a bonus.
All eyes were on Laura, and as she reached for the first steaming dumpli
ng, the rest of the people picked up their cutlery and helped themselves to their food as it was custom. Maray hesitated. Her eyes screened the room for anything out of the ordinary. It wasn’t necessarily that she was scared, but knowing that Feris was still out there wasn’t exactly making her feel cozy and Jemin’s news about the Shalleyn wasn’t something she could digest as easily as the dumplings in front of her.
Sara and Emir Brendal were seated right next to her father, along with a woman with bright red hair who could be Pia’s and Wil’s mother, judging by the color. At the round tables, the white-haired girl was talking animatedly to one of the girls who had helped with Maray’s dinner attire.
As the group of people ate, conversations became noisier, and expectant glances became fewer. Maray sat, her corset making it hard to relax, and reached for a dumpling. She balanced it on her plate and cut it open with a silver knife. Secretly she wondered if Yutu-shifters were sensitive to silver the way werewolves supposedly were and involuntarily smiled.
“Quite a day,” Gerwin said to her behind Laura’s shoulders. “Have you made a choice?”
Maray glanced to each side, to double-check no one had heard him, and raised her eyebrows, knowing that there truly was only one choice that made sense. She nodded and looked for Pia’s red mane.
Both Gerwin and Laura seemed pleased that Maray had come to a conclusion. They had given her the freedom of choice—“It’s you who needs to have them around on a daily basis”—and she hoped that they would agree with her pick.
Maray took a bite of the vegetable-stuffed dumpling and hoped all of this would be over soon so she could return to her hoodie and her bed—and to worrying about Jemin.
When Laura was done eating, the servants picked up the dishes and remaining dumplings as quickly as they had brought them, and a murmur of excitement filled the room. It was time, and Laura got to her feet and raised her voice above the chatter.
“As the protocol demands, my daughter has chosen a handmaiden. It is a tradition in Allinan that the Princesses have someone who takes care of them. Someone who will braid their hair and sew their seams, someone who will wrap them in their wedding dress one day. Someone trusted and appreciated, someone of noble birth. A friend more than a servant.”
Maray shrank next to her mother at the words that addressed another dreadful part of her new life—finding a suitor. She was only sixteen. Marriage should, for her, be as far away as current age. She consoled herself by thinking of the many years before that would even become an issue. But somehow, her gut told her that her mother had other plans. Especially if she thought of young Pia, not even thirteen and already thrown onto the market for an alliance. Even if the marriage wouldn’t take place until she was older, it was still a golden cage her mother was pushing her into.
“Maray Elise Cornay, Princess of Allinan, has chosen one, out of your wonderful and beautiful daughters, to spend her days in service to the crown. It is the highest honor for a girl of noble birth, and only one can take the position at court. The crown thanks all of you for your day in service. Your efforts will not be forgotten.”
At her words, a new group of servants came in and placed bowls of small jewels on the tables which made most of the girls’ eyes sparkle—not Pia’s or the white-haired one’s, though—there was new murmuring, and the people at the girls’ parents’ main table seemed pleased with the gesture.
“There will be one chair added next to the Princess,” Laura explained. “It will be the place where the new handmaiden will have her dessert before she helps the Princess with her needs as she retires to her chambers.”
Goran and Pete entered the room, both looking a little out of place as servants with their bulky soldier frames, but it showed Maray how well Scott had thought out the security measures during his absence. No moment would reveal a lack of protection for Maray and her family. Maray gave them a smile, and Pete winked at her, almost unnoticeably.
“The uniform suits me,” he whispered as he put the chair down beside her, and Maray smothered a grin.
The tension in the room grew, and most parents seemed to try to read Maray’s decision from her eyes. She glanced down and waited for her mother to finish her speech.
“Hundreds of years of tradition, and a new Princess deserves a new noble handmaiden.” Laura turned to Maray, who knew it was time to get to her feet and announce her choice.
With a deep breath, she pushed herself up, feeling not even remotely as graceful as she knew she was supposed to be and was expected of her. All of the girls were standing up with her, including Britta and the dark-haired girl who had given her presents, looking content they’d win. It went against Maray’s nature to make a selection such as this one. But there was a clear, unique selling point for Pia that none of the others could cover, and with another deep breath, she found the strength to disappoint the majority of the people present in the room.
While Pia beamed at Maray, there were sobs audible in the background. Maray didn’t exactly want to find out if they belonged to the other girls or upset parents or if they were Pia’s mother’s tears of joy. It had been hard enough to speak that one single name: Pia Pordin.
“If Wil were here to see this,” Pia said to Maray as she sat, having waited for Maray to sit down first.
“He’d ask if I am crazy,” Maray joked, but she knew that she wasn’t completely wrong. Wil was protective of his little sister, and having her closer to Maray meant having her closer to danger. Not that being a Yutu-shifter out in the wilderness was a life less daring, but at least there she wasn’t attached to a target.
The moment both of them sat, the remaining girls stood in line to congratulate Pia. As Maray faced them again, she noticed that all of them couldn’t be much older than herself. And most of them made a curtsey before they disappeared back to their table, but the one who had given her the dress and the one who had presented her the necklace gave her a poisonous look, thanks to Pia’s earlier explanations, she knew how to interpret.
“I am grateful for your day in service,” Maray said to both of them. “And I am sorry that I could choose only one out of all the wonderful young women. Your destinies lie elsewhere, and I would love to hear from you when you have found them.”
One seat away, Gerwin nodded with pride. Maray knew that he saw his parenting in her words, and when the girls’ expressions changed, she realized that she didn’t need to fake as much as she’d thought. Her father’s diplomatic approach might navigate her through court even better than her mother’s facade.
“Thank you, Your Royal Highness.” Britta blushed from the attention and curtseyed once more before she turned around and returned to her place at the round tables.
“That was nice,” Pia commented so low that only Maray could hear her. “I am sure the way you have been treating the candidates will buy you some sympathizers among the nobles.”
Maray followed Pia’s gaze and found some of the girls admiring her from a distance, but even some of the parents who had looked deeply upset had now changed their expressions into respectful glances, which were balancing out their initial disappointment.
“I am working for the best Princess ever.” Pia cheered silently before she turned her attention to the freshly-served dumplings—sweet dessert dumplings this time. Maray had tried those and loved them. Soft dough enclosing a melting nougat core… what’s not to love?
The tray with two plates of dumplings was sitting right in front of Maray. Everyone else had gotten their own dishes, but it was a tradition that the princess served the new handmaiden as a gesture of respect and acknowledgement of their hard work to come. So Maray picked up the plate closest to her and placed it in front of Pia, the rest of the room watching her closely. She ignored her quickened heartbeat and her flat breathing in the corset. The smell of hot nougat and butter and spices was overwhelming all nervousness.
“Thank you,” Pia beamed up at her, eyes wide with admiration and a sort of affection she had so far only seen when people
had looked at Rhia’s portrait. She inclined her head and sat back in her chair, reaching for her own plate, and started eating.
As she pushed her fork into the dumpling and was anxiously waiting for the nougat to pour onto the dish, a soft scream rose beside her. She spun to the side and found Pia staring down on her plate in horror.
“What is it?” Heck had joined them, triggered by the scream. The rest of the room began to break into a curious murmur again as they cocked their heads, trying to see what was going on.
Pia had opened the dumpling on her plate, but instead of sweet, melted nougat, a little piece of paper had fallen out. It lay open on the painted china, revealing one sentence, which made Maray’s heart almost stop: ‘Take a last look at your father.’
“This can’t be for me. My father has been dead for years,” Pia whispered.
Heck was the first to understand and react. “This is for you, Maray.” He threw himself across the table and hit Gerwin’s fork out of his grasp while he snatched his plate away with his other hand. The room froze.
“What are you doing?” It was Emir Brendal who was openly scolding his son, but he didn’t get far, for Gerwin was coughing, his lips turning purple.
Laura was on her feet, trying to help her husband, but all she could do was watch as he slowly choked. Maray eyed the scene with increasing panic. Her mother was gripping Gerwin’s arm, helpless despite her power as a Princess, unable to do a thing about his condition. Her eyes showed just how devastated she was, searching the room for anything that would point toward what was causing Gerwin’s seizure. When Laura’s gaze met Maray’s, it was clear that her mother wasn’t actually believing this would end well. She seemed to be already mourning.
This couldn’t be happening. Was it an attack? Had he just inhaled a piece of dumpling? Maray screened the room once then glanced at Pia. “Where is Corey?” Maray asked, and Pia was on her feet in an instant, bolting from the room. “Getting her.”
“Isn’t his bracelet working?” someone asked in the background.
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