Romana's Freedom (Soul Merge Saga Book 1)
Page 17
“Katelyn, it’s me.” She told her.
“Romana doesn’t have shiny skin.” Katelyn whispered.
“Katelyn Amice Marshall, if you don’t stop staring and come over here this instant I’m not cooking you any more ratatouille for the next month.” She insisted, using the girl’s full name.
But Katelyn was rooted in place, until Hana gave her a helpful shove, when she ran over and hugged her.
“You look so pretty Romy.” Katelyn informed her, slipping back to using the childish nickname that had once been her favourite thing to call her before Romana had talked her out of it. “Can I dress up like that sometimes too?”
“Well, I do have a surprise for you.” Romana told her “But not until after the conference, okay?”
Katelyn nodded, and hugged her again careful not to squish the dress.
“Spin!” Katelyn ordered, stepping back.
Romana obliged and was rewarded with a happy giggle as Katelyn tried to catch the skirts as they spun past.
“I have to go now,” Romana told her. “Are you being good for Hana and Rebecca?”
“She’s an angel incarnate.” Hana replied “Puts herself to bed and tidies her room before I go to check on her every night. How do you get children like that? I want one.” Romana smoothed down Katelyn’s angel blonde hair, and tucked flyaway strands behind her ears before straightening, and gesturing for her to go with Hana. “Remember,” Hana told the girl “No talking about Romana’s dress to his highness either, even if he gives you sweets.”
Then Katelyn was gone, and the maids were re-arranging the skirts. “Ready just in time.” One of them told her. “The prince wants you to have an announced entrance seeing as you planned it all, so you’re not to go in until a messenger is sent for you.”
“I can hear them.” Romana whispered. “So many of them, and I have to walk down those steps without tripping over? Do you know just how hard that’s going to be?”
“Nothing we haven’t already practiced.” Hana assured her “I made you walk up and down them in shoes higher than these.”
“In dresses no way near as long, or as heavy as this one.” Romana replied.
“Go slow.” Hana advised “Smile on the way down and look like you know what you’re doing, Remember, you’re wearing a mask, literally.”
She set her shoulders back and took as deep a breath as possible, and walked out of the room, to wait by the door and, more importantly, away from the mirrors.
Then she heard the king and queen being announced, followed by the envious gasps of other women as they saw their queen in what was sure to be the most expensive finery there. Then the two princes entered, and she was sure she heard Beatrice give a wishful little sigh.
“It’s time.” She told the others. “The king, queen and both prince’s have been announced.”
“Oh, they have to make a speech about you first.” Hana replied, “But we may as well get going anyway.”
Chapter Twenty-One
THE CHARADE BALL
They got to the door, just in time, as trumpets began to blare around the ballroom, the maids fussed over her quickly before the double doors opened, and Romana was left to walk over to the top of the large staircase leading down into the ballroom. The queen began a toast in her honour, and as she waited there, she saw that her skin was indeed painted gold in thick powder, but her dress was a midnight blue and her mask a piece of art. Princess Arianne stood next to her, a miniature version of the queen, with a tiara of gold and sapphires rather than her mother’s gold and diamond circlet.
She began descending the steps as they all drank deeply from the glasses, going relatively slowly so she didn’t trip over her own train. Prince Marten met her at the bottom of the stairs, dressed in a tuxedo with a white mask and black tie, he looked identical to every other man in the room, but when she looked at his eyes there was no mistaking the intoxicating blue there.
It was around then that everyone restarted their conversations, and the prince whispered in her ear.
“You need to stop doing this to my mother’s ego. Constantly upstaging her can’t be good for her mental state.”
“Why didn’t you just choose a hag to accompany you through this ball, since you seem to have a problem with me doing it?” She replied.
“Because I don’t have any hags to hand.” He replied. “And admit it, you like it really.”
“Yes. Parading around in a dress this heavy is really fun.” She replied so quietly that for a moment she thought that not even he would be able to hear it, except she felt him chuckle against her.
“Does your dress prevent you from dancing?” He asked sarcastically.
“It depends.” She replied “Was that an invitation?”
“Yes.” He replied “As long as you’re up for it of course.”
That just made her mad. “Of course I’m up for it, but being such an old man, I was more concerned about you.” Ok, it was a long shot; he was only three years older than her.
“I’d be more worried about the heartbreak most men in here will suffer as soon as you leave.” He replied, leading her out to where several couples were already waltzing around, and spinning her into a gentle hold.
Dancing, as she’d learned under Hana, was really quite logical when you thought about it, it was a mirror of whatever your partner was doing, and maybe there were a few little spins involved here and there.
“Do you want to see how many tunes we get through before we’re interrupted by another unmarried man?” Marten asked, and she thought she saw jealousy on his face.
“Seriously,” She said exasperated “You begin to act all possessive the moment I get dressed up.” She was still waiting for an apology from him about the kisses he’d given her earlier. She waited then continued when she saw no answer forthcoming. “Am I only worth caring about if I’m buried under this many yards of fabric?”
“No.” He replied, “It’s just when you have to act charming you’re kind of nice.”
“So I’m not nice normally?” She asked, pretending shock.
“I didn’t mean it like that!” He replied.
“Maybe you should just stop talking before I get too insulted to dance with you anymore.” She suggested. “The Baron of Thistlewight appears to be rather interested in dancing with me.” He jerked her around rather fast at that comment, turning to growl at the baron she’d pointed out. This alarmed her enough to stop her teasing and pull his head back around towards her. “Stop it.” She told him. “Acting like I’m yours will only bring you pain in the end.”
“You wanted to stay.” He replied.
“For Katelyn’s sake only,” She replied. “I will accept your friendship, but I will not accept this possessiveness that comes with it.”
“All part of the package.” He replied “Just like I accept when you use your words like blades. I have to deal and you have to deal as well.”
At that moment the music changed from the calming lull of the waltz to a more energetic piece, and before she could give him a reply that really would flay the skin from his bones, he was tapped on the shoulder by Prince Endis.
“May I have a dance with my newfound cousin?” He asked.
“Of course.” Marten replied, if a little stiffly. The two men bowed to each other, before Endis spun her into a hold, just as, if not more smoothly than Marten had.
“I thought I’d save him from whatever it was you were planning to say to ruin his ego.” Endis informed her quietly and in elventongue. “Plus, I wanted to see how you were getting on.”
“Does everyone know by now?” She asked in the same language.
“Only us with advanced hearing: the dwarves, the dragons and us. As far as I’m aware everyone else is blissfully ignorant.” He paused to pull her into a particularly spirited twirl. “What did you think of the plans for your manse?”
“It isn’t a manse, it’s a castle, and it has over fifty bedrooms.” She replied, “And a separate building for t
he servants. What am I going to be using all of those rooms for? Although I like the name, who thought of it?”
“If you host anything.” He replied “I realise it would never be something of this magnitude, but nobles often hold birthday celebrations that span days in duration. And the name is the also the name of the march, unimaginative I know but you can rename it if you want.”
“I like the sound of Castle D’Arville.” She replied.
“Then keep the name.” He replied “Although if you’re this worried about the relatively small castle that you’ll have as a marchioness, then I have to tell you that it’ll be far smaller than the huge place you’ll have as a grand duchess.”
“And since I’m a higher rank in the Human Realms, I’ll have an even bigger ‘mansion’.”
“No, you’ll probably have a palace once they can get round to it.”
She went pale at that. “You’re joking me.”
“No,”
“But there’s already a palace in Morendor.” She informed him.
“Romana, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but Morendor is a very large city, it is unusual that it only has one palace in it.”
“Well, how large is D’Arville?” She asked.
“The main city is called Izon, has around one hundred thousand people living there, so it’s only a sixtieth of the population of Morendor.”
“Oh.” She replied, unable to process the numbers for a moment, and by the time she had the song had changed and a human in a white mask wanted the honour of the next dance.
By the end of the ball, Romana had barely had time to rest between dances, although she’d politely declined some offers to dance when she needed her breath back.
When people began to leave at around one o’clock the next morning, she felt so relieved at the prospect of getting out of the dress that it took her a while to remember that Hana was putting her straight back into another dress to teach her to dance again.
As she was hosting she was the last to leave; even Prince Marten had gone from the ball room by the time the dwarves, who were so drunk that they’d literally swayed from the room, finally left.
As it was, the moment Hana saw her in the corridors she was pounced upon by yawning maids, who quickly and efficiently removed her from the dress, only to put her into another, albeit less tight and lighter, ball gown, which was a deep blue, although greatly faded in places.
“I had it in my teens.” Hana told her proudly. “Saw me through over a dozen balls that dress did.”
The dress was, admittedly, far too short for Romana. Although she could still admire the beading on the bodice, or at least she could in the three seconds between being dressed and being ushered into a small room used for entertainment that was just down the corridor. The maids left when she was inside, leaving her alone with Hana.
“Now,” Hana told her. “We have twenty three other volunteers who will be arriving shortly to help out, but before that I want to know how you’re coping. I must assure you that nothing you tell me will reach anyone else’s ears, so just tell me the truth.”
And then the older woman did something totally unexpected, she walked up and hugged Romana carefully. Stiffening instantly, Romana waited for the attack, recalling the days in the Slave Shop when the Slave Master had pretended to forgive her and then grabbed her ear to drag her back to her rooms the moment she lowered her guard. Only Katelyn could hug her without triggering fear in her gut. But no attack came.
This was Hana, she reasoned, softening slightly. There was no reason for her to hurt her, she would be fine, or at least, she hoped she would. So, very slowly, she allowed herself to soften, and about two minutes later, she was hugging the woman back.
“It’s still not sunk in yet.” She told Hana “But it was a little disconcerting when I found out I’d be ruling a castle and a palace. I honestly thought I’d only be living in a little mansion with ten or so rooms, so a castle with fifty-seven bedrooms, a ballroom, two dining rooms and a huge kitchen, not to mention the adjoining servants building was worrying.”
“Have you realised how big your palace in Morendor will be?” Hana asked. “I hope you also realise that you’ll have a country mansion as well. The prince has ordered designs for both drawn up, but you’re to have the ultimate say over anything that goes in them.” She paused “But also, you can afford the best education available for Katelyn. She can learn anything she would ever want to; even teach her wytchery if you wanted.” The last was a mere whisper, for wytches were greatly feared by the general populace.
“Do you fear wytches then?” Romana asked.
“Who doesn’t?”
“I don’t.” She replied.
“Well, I’m damn near petrified of them.” Hana told her “This Silver Eyed Wytch person, I’m betting she has a hand in the magical arts, hence the name. If I ever met her I’d probably fall back in a faint.”
“To think that the prince has spoken with her, he’s actually ridden behind her on a horse.” Romana replied, “I imagine that is not something you’d want to do.”
“Absolutely not,” Hana replied “But you best be careful, people like that will probably kill for money, and you’ll be a very big target as a grand duchess.”
“I refused to allow the prince to assign me a guard.” She replied “Does that make me stupid?”
“No.” Hana replied “It sends out a message, that you won’t be intimidated.”
“I don’t want him to assign me a guard as a duchess either.” She replied “I’ll allow some guards around the boarders of my palace grounds for Katelyn’s sake, but I can’t have as many as there are here. I refuse to.” There was no freedom if she was being followed all the time.
“If he respects that then I hardly know him at all.” Hana replied “He’s becoming incredibly protective over you.”
“Protectiveness isn’t compatible with what I want and need.” Romana replied “He will have to learn to deal with that fact.”
“And what do you need?” Hana replied.
“Absolute freedom.” She replied “No cages, no boundaries, no-one else tying me down.”
Hana chuckled. “The longing in that voice; I’ve never heard the like. The longing for something you know that you can never have.”
“Of course I can have it.” She replied.
“No, you can’t. You can never be truly free of everything, you will love people and places and become tied to them, you will have family in your future and you will love them for your entire life. There is no true freedom.”
“I suppose that is one point of view, but I still wish for it more than anything else.” She replied “I suppose that my chances of getting it now are far slimmer than they ever were before.”
“As if!” Hana replied “You have so much power and influence that you could go on holiday for three years and no-one would blink an eyelid against it.”
“I don’t think three years is very long given the scheme of things.” Romana informed her “I should live to over a thousand if I’m lucky.”
“And here I thought I was doing well to get to sixty.” Hana muttered. “Why could I not have been born an elf?” She snapped out of the wishful longing soon enough however. “We need to get moving.” She informed her, walking over to the door, opening it, and beckoning for the others to enter.
At around five o’clock in the morning, Hana finally let her leave the room, assigning maids to help Romana out of her dress once she got back to her rooms. The moment they left, she strode over to the fireplace, and opened it.
The five men standing there looked shocked.
“Would you please inform his highness that I have just had the longest night in recorded history? I do not appreciate being kept awake by his spies in the next room.”
“We have orders.” One of them told her in a hesitant voice.
“Oh for Ancients sake!” She practically yelled, then stormed across the hallway in her night robe and banged on the prince’s door.
“Get those idiots out of my rooms.” She replied “I have just spent the last four hours in a corset learning to prance around properly for you; the least I deserve is privacy.”
It was around then that she noticed he was half naked; his trousers hanging precariously on his hips, probably where he’d yanked them on as he got out of bed. What was revealed however, was golden skin over muscle, something that inspired nothing but feminine appreciation.
“Didn’t your mother ever tell you that it’s rude to yell at someone and then stand there staring at them?” He asked, running a hand through his sleep tussled hair.
“No.” She replied “She taught me to respect peoples’ privacy. And to allow your friends the quiet they need to get to sleep. Especially after that friend was just deafened by a ball you put her through.”
“Alright, alright.” He replied, walking over to her rooms and poking his head into the open fireplace door and started talking with the men there. Two minutes later they’d left, and he walked back over to where she was waiting. “Better?”
“That was surprisingly easy.” She replied.
“I get all compliant when I just want to get back to sleep.” He replied, yawning.
She laughed slightly, her anger abating with his yawn. “Sorry I woke you.”
“And you obviously get all nice when I’m only half awake to appreciate it.” He replied, “Are you happy now? Can I get back to sleep?”
“Go on.” She replied, mock pushing him towards his door.
He obliged looking more than happy to do so. And she retreated back into her room and lay down on the bed, allowing Silver to take over as she did so. It was easier, she’d learned, if she didn’t fight the transition.
Chapter Twenty-Two
THREATS
Silver ran through the passageways, having already changed at the caves half an hour ago. She opened the door of the fireplace in the soundproofed rooms Romana had been in when she’d woken, and walked over to the window. Above her was a ledge that would be easily reachable from the windowsill. Satisfied with her plan, she swung upwards, landing perfectly on her feet.