Romana's Freedom (Soul Merge Saga Book 1)

by M. P. A. Hanson

She bowed her head in acknowledgement as lady after lady entered and curtseyed before the queen.

  “If I might ask, your majesty, is his highness afraid of a breach in the palace walls?”

  “No, I do not believe so.” The queen replied “Why do you ask?”

  “I believe it makes little sense for all of us to be under constant guard if there is no possibility of a breach of what has been called the most impenetrable palace on the mainland.”

  “It does.” The queen replied, ushering Arianne up onto her lap. “However, my step-son was rather insistent that we be protected against all eventualities.”

  “It resembles paranoia to my eyes.” She replied.

  “It does in part.” The queen replied, stroking down Arianne’s hair. “Although I suppose that’s the burden of running such a large country because your father refuses to step down as king even though he’s really incapable of the job nowadays. Maybe it would be better for him if he had someone with whom to share the onus. To be blunt, it would please me if you were intending to be that someone.”

  “To be blunt in turn, your majesty, I would never be so bold as to make the first move with someone like him, as much as I too would wish to be that someone.”

  The queen looked about to reply, but at that moment, a messenger runner, burst into the room, bowing low before the queen, before announcing to them all, “Prince Marten wishes to speak to the Lady Romana.”

  “By your leave, your Majesty?” She replied, turning to the queen.

  “Yes of course.” She replied.

  “Where is his highness?” She asked the runner.

  “In his office.” The runner replied, before leaving.

  She walked quickly towards his office, using elvenspeed in short bursts when nobody was around to see her. Doing it at night was one thing, in bright daylight she would be caught, no question about it.

  When she reached the prince’s office the first thing she noticed were the guards on either end of the hall.

  “What’s going on?” She demanded, as soon as the door was closed behind her.

  “I had another visit from Silver.” He replied “She threatened your life.”

  “I told you she’d get snarly when she found out there weren’t any centaur children left.” She replied.

  “That’s not exactly true.” He replied.

  “You lied to her?” She asked, incredulous

  “That was about when she threatened to hang you in front of me. The man today, he was left in the exact way she said she’d leave you.”

  “I do not appreciate being threatened as a way to leash a prince.” She replied.

  “I know, and I’m sorry, I didn’t exactly volunteer you for this, she saw us together and decided you would make good bait.”

  “She promised not to harm the child, correct? So what’s stopping you.”

  “The fact that I’d be sentencing a newborn to live with that woman,” He replied.

  “Marten, you have to choose between giving a child a home, where it will be cared for, and who knows, maybe even loved, and two lives? Wouldn’t be too difficult for me.”

  “When you put it like that.” He mumbled. “I’ll send Hana for the child now, but I still want to assign guards to you.”

  “No thank-you.” She replied. “If she comes after me I’ll run, but that’s all.”

  “You run straight to me.” He told her. “Straight to me, understand?”

  “Yes, sir.” She mocked; giving him a sassy two fingered salute even as his eyes blazed in promise of revenge for that statement.

  “You think you’re so smart don’t you?” He replied, darting up to her using elvenspeed.

  “Uh-huh.” She replied.

  “One day, I’m going to do something to wipe that smart look of your face.” His eyes hardened, like a decision had been made.

  “Like what?” She goaded. Then the idiot leaned forwards and kissed her, a sweet kiss that was all little licks and nibbles. “Do you know how many germs you just passed this way?” She asked, and it was a breathy question as she tried to think past his demanding kiss, but her thought processes were getting scrambled, even as he raised his hands to cup her face.

  His hand on her face, against her will memories surfaced.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll take them back.” He teased, even as he tugged her hair, forcing her lips down for another teasing pass. But it was too late, the memories had re-surfaced, fear was pouring cold water on what had been steamy passion just as he swooped in for another kiss. She froze becoming stone under the kiss, lost to the memories of her past.

  “You’re still high from the fight.” She replied robotically as he pulled away. “So I’ll forgive this. But do it again, and I might not be so lenient.” She yanked away from him in a fear that had been ingrained into her for the last two years. Affection from the Slave Master had always been used to hide the coming punishment. It had been a cruel punishment; he would hug her close and fool her into believing she was forgiven and then begin the beating.

  With that she exited the room, putting her fingers to her lips in memory, but then shook it off. When Prince Marten realised what he’d done, he would come and apologise to her, like the gentleman he was. He didn’t mean it, and she would never, could never, be with anyone like that.

  Chapter Twenty

  ADJUST

  She walked back to her rooms where she sat for almost an hour in confusion. But then the seamstresses arrived with her dress.

  “It’s only just gone three.” She told them “There’s four hours until the ball.”

  “Yes, but we have a lot of work to do till then.” They ushered her into her bedroom, where they laid three dress covers on the bed.

  “I don’t see how any work is going to take that long.”

  “Ball gowns are a lot more complex than normal dresses.” One of them told her. “Add that it has to be a masquerade dress. Which doesn’t exist in the elven lands and so they have no style for it and we’re flying blind.”

  “Masquerade?”

  “Oh, yes, it’s a masquerade ball, as is customary at the conference. The first is a masquerade ball, and the second is a Cotillion Waltz ball.”

  “A what?”

  “Please tell me you know what a Cotillion Waltz is.” Hana asked. “Even Farmers have them in great big barns, although, public ones are a lot less fancy than private ones.”

  “Hana, I lived in a Slave Shop for eighteen years, we didn’t go dancing every other week, and we never did a Cotillion Waltz, whatever that is.”

  “It’s a dance in a set formation, usually in four pairs, although this one is to be done in twelve, which makes it all the more complex to learn. You elves don’t need sleep do you?”

  “Once a week is considered good for us, although I am used to a regular sleep cycle every day.”

  “Well, you’re not sleeping tonight.” Hana told her. “After the ball, you must return here, I will loan you a dress, and then we will have to practice; you can’t not know how to do this dance!”

  “How hard can it be?” She asked.

  “Imagine twenty-four people spinning in an intricate pattern to music where every footstep is examined by the onlookers. If you fail in this, you’re guaranteed to be found out. It’s the queen’s favourite dance as well!”

  “Only one night to teach it to her in,” one of the seamstresses grumbled. “It took me three balls to learn the basic steps.”

  “I’m an elf; I only need to see something once to be able to remember it perfectly.”

  “And thank Ancients for that.” Hana told her, as the maids began to polish every surface of her body with various powders. “At least the dresses for the Cotillion are all the same.”

  “Human style, you mean?” She asked.

  “Oh yes.” Hana told her. “Be afraid, be very afraid.”

  She laughed “Those dresses may weigh a ton to any human, but I can carry something three times heavier than a full grown human if I need to
.”

  “Believe me, compared to those dresses, human men are like insects.” Hana told her. “Add that to the fact that you can only take shallow breaths.”

  “At least it’s a fairly slow dance.” One told her. “But the masquerade dress is human style as well.”

  “And those dances will be fairly fast.” Hana told her. “You remember how to do the dances I showed you, I suppose?”

  “Yes.” She replied “Why didn’t you teach me the Cotillion dance with the other dances?”

  “I presumed you knew it.” Hana told her “Didn’t even think to ask.”

  “Close your eyes,” She was ordered “No talking till I’ve finished your face.”

  She obeyed gladly, even as powders were dusted onto her face in large enough quantities to make her want to sneeze.

  When her skin had been perfected around an hour later, her jewellery was fetched from a nearby case. As it caught the light she drew in a breath.

  “Are those?”

  “Real diamonds and moonstones.” One of them replied in an awed whisper. “No expense was to be spared, and we were under orders to get them in somewhere.”

  “From who?” She asked, even as the silver and diamond fringe necklace was fastened at the back of her neck, and someone started rolling her hair into curlers.

  “His highness of course.” She was told, even as matching drop earrings were added. “He cringed at the price of all the tulle needed for the two dresses though.” The last was added on a giggle “Eighty yards of gathered tulle per dress, although, even that’s less than the amount in the queen’s dresses.”

  Someone pulled out a pair of long white gloves and slid them up her arms, even as another walked over to the first dress cover and unzipped it.

  There was a knock on the door.

  “I’ll get it.” Hana told them, disappearing from the room and opening the door.

  Everyone in the room went silent, listening.

  “She’s not receiving.” Hana told whoever was at the door before they’d even drawn in a breath.

  “But I have a message to her from Prince Endis.”

  “Give it here.” Hana replied, and there was a snatching sound before the door slammed. The head maid strode back into the bedroom a minute later, a white paper envelope in her hand. “You’re not to open this until you’re in the dress.” Hana told her. “It’ll take too long to read it.”

  She didn’t object, knowing the argument would be pointless. Instead she stepped into the first layer of skirting held out by the maids, then sucked in a breath as they started strapping up the very human corset.

  “How do humans wear these?” She asked. “I feel close to passing out already.”

  “It takes practice, that’s why you’re being dressed early, this way you can get used to it.”

  “I don’t think I want to.” She replied. “Are you sure I have to do this?”

  “Yes, definitely.” Hana replied.

  She sucked in a second gasp as the ribbons were tied together at the back. “No sleeves?” It was all she could gasp through the stranglehold of rigid material.

  “No, and not on the dress either.” Hana replied, knowing that she was talking about the corset, even as another layer of skirting was lowered over her head. It was about then that she realised that her skin was glittering in a subtle pearl shade. She raised her arm in question. “It’s the latest style for human women at private balls. It’s only another type of powder. Word is that the queen’s will be gold.”

  “If I can’t read the letter.” Romana began “Could you read it to me?”

  “Sure.” Hana told her “But are you certain you want me to?”

  “It can’t be anything that important.” She replied.

  Hana snatched up the envelope and opened it with a swipe of one fingernail. “To Romana, concerning your upcoming ducal and ambassadorial responsibilities.” Hana gaped at the piece of paper. “What is this talking about?” She asked.

  “Well…” Romana replied trying to figure out how to say it. “Prince Endis figured out what was going on and told Prince Marten that it was illegal for me to stay in the human realms. He also went ahead and told me that my eye colour is something that is only common in the royal bloodline and therefore I’m related to him in some way, which means I have to have a title in the elven lands. Then Prince Marten decided that I should be an Elven ambassador to Morendor, and then somehow that turned into me becoming the grand duchess of Morendor, a position they’re making just for me. And all this is really so that I can stay here with Katelyn.” Hana just stared at her. The other maids stopped working as well. Then they all did the stupid curtsey thing. “Your Grand Ducal Highness.” A few murmured in respect.

  “Technically I’m not a duchess yet.” She replied “And if you all keep doing the curtsey thing I will kill you myself.”

  “Grand duchess.” Hana corrected.

  “What difference does it make?” She asked, as someone slipped her feet into silver dancing shoes with gems sewn onto the straps.

  “You’re one step down from the heir apparent himself.” Hana told her. “Your grand duchy will probably be huge. Romana dear, you’ve agreed to be someone who is only two honorifics down from the King and queen. Add to this a title in the elven lands, and you’d be in the single digits when it comes to a list of the most powerful women in those two countries.”

  “’Ancients’ suddenly doesn’t seem like a strong enough exclamation.” Romana replied, “I didn’t realise it would be that big. I only just reluctantly accepted the position with what little knowledge I had. Now, I think I might go and resign.”

  “No.” Hana told her. “If you do that you’ll be separated from Katelyn. That isn’t what you want.”

  “I know that.” She replied “But maybe I should ask him to put me down a rank?”

  “That would be ruder than not accepting the post.” Hana replied “Best sit tight through it. If you want I can help you adjust. And I doubt his highness would just throw you to the wolves without helping you either. Now, should I finish reading?”

  “Yes please.” Romana replied, as the maids resumed playing with the skirting.

  “‘To Romana, concerning your upcoming ducal and ambassadorial responsibilities. After a brief communication with my mother-queen this morning, we have decided that given the colour of your eyes you must be a close relative, due to most of our extended family having lost the colour. We are in accord that you are to be named a cousin to the royal family and a marchioness of the Elven Kingdom. Enclosed are details, including a map, of your march, which borders the human realms. We believe it should be suitable for your needs, and plans for an estate are also included. It may be diplomatic, for you to arrange a set time of year to reside in this mansion, or perhaps seasons. We would suggest that at least quarter of the year be spent in your estate to be tactful. Please send your reply as soon as you are able. Until the ball then, cousin.’ It finishes with the million-and-one titles he has, and two pages later we get to his name.” Hana finished sarcastically.

  “I’ve never heard of a marchioness before.” Romana replied, still slightly shocked.

  “Oh, it’s a title that’s only used in the Elven and Dwarven kingdoms.” Hana replied “It’s usually restricted to the direct royal family. It ranks somewhere between countess and duchess in the grand scheme of things. And your land is called a ‘March’”

  “When are you planning on telling Katelyn?” One of the maids asked.

  “When I’m able to breathe enough to form a full sentence, without passing out.” She replied as another layer of netting was lowered over her head. “How much of this stuff is there?”

  “This is the last layer.” A maid replied, strapping the two halves together at the back. “Close your eyes. It’s to be a surprise.”

  “Why?” She asked, worried.

  “Don’t panic.” Hana replied “They just want the two finest dresses of their careers to be perfect.”

&n
bsp; She nodded acquiescence, and closed her eyes, raising her arms as ordered. She felt a brush of expensive fabric. Then she felt skilled fingertips working at her back, tying something? She guessed so, especially if this was a sleeveless dress.

  She began to open her eyes when someone began to pull the curlers from her hair, only to have a hand covering them. “Not yet.” Someone replied, even as she felt a curious weight settle in her hair.

  “Is that a tiara?” She asked, wondering if they’d put it on backwards.

  “No.” Was the blunt reply, as the hand was removed, and replaced by something cold and metallic. Her mask, she realised, it was odd that it didn’t seem to have feathers and she couldn’t feel sequins.

  They sprayed her hair with that spray again, and she held her breath.

  “This way.” Someone grabbed her hand and led her through into another room. When they stopped the same person spoke again. “You can look now.”

  She slowly opened her eyes, half afraid of what she might see. Then even she gasped in wonder as the stranger in the mirror stared straight back at her.

  All the skin that was visible was dusted pearl white that glowed under the light, and her jewellery gave off small rainbows. The sleeveless silver dress gathered at the waist where moonstones and diamonds had been hand sewn, and then fell in ruffles that gathered slightly at one side. Her eyes were lined in a smoky effect created with kohl and then framed by the filigree silver mask that was discreetly tied under her hair. She turned around, only to see more moonstones and diamonds set in a silver clip that held her hair from her face.

  “I don’t even recognise myself,” She said for the second time that week, knowing that it wouldn’t be the last.

  “Let Katelyn in, but for goodness sake keep his highness out.” Hana ordered.

  “His highness?” She asked.

  “Prince Marten,” Hana replied “He’s been trying to sneak a peek at that dress since it was finished. We’ve changed the combination of one of the royal safes so he can’t see beforehand.”

  At that moment a vivacious Katelyn ran in, stopping short of Romana, and looking at her confused.