What is Hidden

by Skidmore, Lauren

  “And let’s keep it that way,” he said, grinning. “Hopefully the next time you see me, you’ll be in a better position. I can’t promise the people will be any nicer, though.”

  “I’ll take my chances. Truly, thank you.”

  “It is truly my pleasure, my lady.”

  Smiling at his formality that had always felt more like a term of endearment, I wrapped my arms around him again and bid him farewell. He returned the gesture with both arms this time, then stooped to pick up his light, smiled at me one last time, and disappeared down the dark hallway.

  Shedding my clothes and mask for the second time, I crawled into bed, truly exhausted. Naturally, with my body so tired, my mind decided to race, asking unanswered question after unanswered question. I was determined to get some real information out of Aiden the next time I saw him, no matter what it took.

  I also needed to work on my cover story. He wasn’t one to just let something go; I knew that much about him. I knew he’d drill me about the attack on my house, and any encounter I had with the thief. And if I knew him at all, I’d wager that he’d take it upon himself to help find the scoundrel.

  I sat up in bed, my heart beating hard. If I wanted to find someone, the most obvious way was through Aiden. And he’d be more than willing to help me. If anything, I’d have to work to keep him from putting himself in any danger or taking unnecessary risks. He was a little hard-headed that way. He always thought he knew what was best, and I pitied any man that dared to disagree with him. My job then was to enlist his help while still keeping myself hidden. I could do it, somehow. I knew I could.

  Filled with a renewed hope, I lay back down and drifted to sleep, dreaming of what my life would be when it was all put back together.

  =

  NINE

  +

  A harsh bell startled me out of my bed. I fell onto the cold stone floor as I floundered around in confusion. I glanced out the window as I reached for my mask; it wasn’t even light out yet. I could see the slightest hints of dawn approaching, but it was still far too early for my liking. I was used to getting up early but not before the sun was up. This was unnatural, especially after a late night. I wagered I’d only gotten about five hours of sleep.

  When I was properly awake, I wasn’t sure if I had been dreaming the night before when Aiden came to my room. His promise to get me into the Masking Workroom sounded too good to be true, so I got ready to work in the kitchens. Mentally and physically, I would be ready to work but hoped that I wouldn’t be there for long.

  I groaned as I pulled my clothes on and shivered in the chill of the not-quite-morning air. My arms and back ached from the workout they’d gotten yesterday. I’d always thought I was fairly strong, but this duty worked a completely different set of muscles. It was exhausting.

  As I wandered into the kitchen, I was taken aback by the flurry of action and commotion. I thought and hoped things would be more low key in the morning, but the kitchen was just as hectic as it was for dinner, if not even more so because I still felt half asleep. I fell in line to collect my own breakfast—a simple but delicious-smelling warm cinnamon-spiced porridge—and sat at the table to eat. Again, I was left on my own, which was much more desirable than having someone like Jeza accost me.

  As if my thoughts summoned her, I heard Jeza’s shrill laughter as she walked into the room.

  “You know just looking at her she’s going to be a disaster,” she was saying, “I doubt she’ll be here more than a week.”

  I clenched my teeth. She was clearly talking about me, and it sounded like she didn’t like me any more than I liked her. I watched her and the two girls beside her out of the corner of my eye.

  “She’s not very bright,” Jeza continued as she filed through the serving line to pick up her breakfast. “It’s a wonder she got in here at all.”

  I closed my eyes, foolishly hoping that would help me escape her notice.

  That didn’t quite work out the way I’d hoped as suddenly my hair was drenching in hot cinnamon porridge.

  Shrieking, I leapt up and spun around to see Jeza, empty bowl in hand and a smug look on her face.

  “Oops,” she said, propping the bowl against her hip. “I didn’t see you there.”

  I glared at her and opened my mouth, but before I could say anything, she cut me off. “I wouldn’t say anything if I were you.” She glanced meaningfully above my left shoulder. Vera had arrived just behind me and was speaking to one of the cooks. “You don’t want to draw any more attention to yourself, now do you?”

  I hoped she tripped and fell into the canal the next time she left the palace. Or that I would have the chance to push her.

  “Sit,” she commanded as if I were a dog. When I didn’t obey right away, she heaved an exaggerated sigh and gestured toward Vera again. “She’s about to give the morning announcements. You can’t leave now, and you can’t just stand there.”

  I’d like to tell her what I could or couldn’t do, but, unfortunately, she was right.

  I sat and combed through my hair with my handkerchief, dumping the clumps of porridge into my abandoned bowl, dreaming of all the ways I’d like to get back at Jeza as Vera made her way to the front of the room.

  For some reason, Jeza and her cronies decided to sit next to me, whispering as the kitchen mistress checked on the morning preparations. I tried to ignore them, but it was like trying to ignore a fly constantly buzzing in my ear.

  “Have you seen some of the dresses the maids upstairs have turned up?” she asked in that annoying whisper. “They’re all in a tizzy getting ready for the ball and some of those creations are just ghastly.”

  “I heard one lady hated her dress so much she refused to wear it and dared her maid to wear it herself! At the masquerade! Can you imagine?” They all laughed, although I didn’t see what was so funny.

  “Some people think that just because the prince will be picking his bride there, and just because he has his pick of the women of the kingdom, that anyone has a chance. As if the prince doesn’t have better taste than to choose some nobody.”

  They continued to gossip as I fought to make my hair presentable. Then they suddenly fell silent, save for the sounds of their spoons.

  “Really, Miss Evelina,” Vera chided me, amusement ringing in every word. “Even simpletons know how to bathe. I thought you said you were more intelligent than that.”

  I bristled at her words but bit my tongue.

  She waited, plainly expecting some kind of retort, but I refused to give Jeza the satisfaction. When it become clear I wasn’t going to say anything, Vera sighed. “Well, if you have nothing to say for yourself, you best get to your station. And thank your lucky stars that we did not have fish this morning.” She wrinkled her nose at the thought and whisked herself off to torment some other poor soul, Jeza and friends in tow.

  I scrambled to find something to cover my wet hair, eventually settling for a napkin that looked only crumpled and not actually used. I quickly braided my hair and tucked it under the gold-colored material, all the while marveling they used such fine fabric for napkins here.

  The rest of breakfast passed much like dinner the night before. It was a little more low key: the dress wasn’t so elaborate, the tables weren’t as full of guests, and there was no after-meal entertainment. Despite all of this, it was still clearly a formal affair.

  The complete royal family was in attendance again, although there was no repeat of last night’s uncomfortable attention from the prince, thank goodness, nor did he vanish partway through the meal. They were again dressed elaborately, with different masks, though the same style.

  Maybe that was something I could learn from working in the masking room. Assuming Aiden followed through.

  After breakfast was over and cleaned up, we were free to do as we wished. Most of the younger girls went to lessons provided by the palace, which I could attend as well, but it was only basic reading and writing, which I already knew. It seemed the older girls us
ually went into town to see family or run errands or stayed to do other chores in the palace.

  Luckily, I was free to go, but I didn’t really have anything I wished to do. I certainly didn’t want to go into town; I was too tired from yesterday but not so bored to look for more work.

  I decided to familiarize myself with the palace a little more. I knew my room, the kitchens, and the main hall, but that was about it. I’d spied some gardens from the dining hall windows that I’d been itching to explore.

  However, I didn’t make it much further than the hall-way I hoped led to the servants’ entrance when I heard a high voice calling.

  “Evelina!”

  I turned at the sound of my name and saw Carese jogging toward me. “Is something wrong?” I asked, alarmed at her pink face and somewhat disheveled hair.

  “No, not at all. I’m just glad I found you.” She put a hand to her chest as she caught her breath. “I’ve been running all over trying to find girls. His highness has called an emergency council meeting, and I need servers, but everyone’s already busy with other duties or in town. You’re the only other one I’ve found, but the two of us should be able to make do, I think.”

  “Of course,” I said. “What do you need me to do?”

  Carese explained quickly as we walked back to the kitchens. “You’ll just need to follow me to the council rooms. During the meeting itself, the two of us will fill drinks in the same manner as dinner, though there are only twelve council members plus the king and prince.”

  “Both will be there?” I asked, surprised. I didn’t think the prince would attend, since he wouldn’t speak.

  “Yes, along with lords from different parts of the island and some ambassadors, I believe.”

  “Anyone I need to worry about?”

  She winced. “I’m sorry about the other night. You should have had more preparation than you did before going to the floor. I’m not sure how you were missed.”

  “Probably because Mistress Vera didn’t exactly take a liking to me,” I said glumly. That was just what I needed. I didn’t know what was worse: knowing I should have been more prepared and wasn’t, or wondering if there was more I was supposed to know and didn’t.

  “Mistress Vera is rather . . . singular with those she takes a liking to,” she said delicately.

  I dropped it, feeling sorry for the girl who couldn’t have been much older than me, though it was clear she’d been in the palace a long time. “Just assume I don’t know anything when it comes to things like this, all right? Most of the time, you’ll probably be correct.”

  She smiled. “I’ll help you when I can.”

  Carese led the way to the cellar, a surprisingly large room below the kitchens, and showed me how to draw from the barrels. “Not that you’ll ever need to do this part,” she pointed out. “This is for select kitchen staff . . . too much of a problem with missing bottles in the past. But still, it might be good to know.” She shrugged and together we filled two large jugs to take to the council room.

  “We need to be in place before anyone else arrives,” she instructed, balancing the jug on her hip and handing me a silver tray with empty glasses on it to carry. I tried to copy the way she used her hips to balance. I wobbled a little but didn’t drop anything. “And we need to blend into the curtains. Keep your head and eyes down at all times. Only refill glasses during recesses or if addressed directly.”

  “Why do we need to be in there the whole time?”

  “Some of the ambassadors like to take advantage of our hospitality,” she said wryly, “and will ask for frequent refills. But we don’t want to interfere, so it’s best to just stay out of sight until summoned. And it takes too much time to forever be coming and going. You’ll see. Recesses are frequent.”

  I followed her up a narrow staircase that she told me was only for servants; guests came through the main ballroom and the hall with paintings of past rulers. “To remind them of who they are indebted to for their current position,” Carese said.

  The council room itself was not so intimidating but not entirely welcoming either. Lush curtains hung around the entire room, to muffle the sound, according to Carese.

  “Or to hide guards,” I ventured a guess.

  She looked unamused. “Perhaps.” I was quickly learning that she liked to keep things simple and factual, and not waste time on gossip or fantasies.

  A horseshoe-shaped table sat in the middle of the room, the open end facing the door, and the top in front of a raised dais similar to the one from the dining hall. I assumed the prince would sit there, while the king would sit at a particularly plush chair that was also slightly raised above the others.

  “You’ll stand on this side, here,” Carese directed, placing me where she wanted me to stand. “I’ll take the other side, where most of the ambassadors should sit. You shouldn’t have much to do but stand there. Now, help me fill the cups.”

  We worked quickly and silently, and before long the voices of the council members announced their imminent arrival.

  “Quickly now!” Carese whispered. “Stand there. Don’t meet anyone’s eyes. Don’t make any noise. You’ll be fine.”

  I obeyed, wiping my sweaty palms on my skirt once more while I could still move freely.

  The members trickled in more slowly than I would expect for an emergency meeting, talking among themselves. Their masks were a mix of all the main colors, though all were pale—high-ranking, as to be expected. There were more purple of the nobles than I expected, but the fishermen blues, artisan greens, and intellectual reds were also well represented.

  After my first glance, though, I looked down at my skirt hem, afraid to repeat my mistake from the night before. Instead, I relied on my ears to teach me.

  The members seemed to be predominantly men; I could pick out only two female voices. The others conversed freely about people I didn’t know and matters I didn’t understand.

  A hush fell over the group, and the scraping of chairs being pushed back sounded as the members rose for the king and prince to enter, or so I assumed.

  There was a general rustle as everyone situated themselves, and then one of the women spoke. Instantly, I recognized her as the Speaker, the same regal woman from the Square.

  “The situation is thus,” she began with no prelude. “A red tide has washed up on our western shores.”

  I heard a general murmur before she spoke again. Red tides were rare, but not unheard of; algae congealed in the water and poisoned the sea life. Dead fish washed up on shore, and any shellfish collected would paralyze or kill anyone who ingested it. The tide usually washed back out to sea within a few weeks or even days, but it could also last months. “As you know, the red tide presents several problems, and there’s no telling how long it will last,” the Speaker continued.

  “What is the king asking of us?” a deep baritone asked.

  “The king asks for assistance for the fishermen in that area.” I nearly dropped my jug at the sound of an authoritative male voice instead of the Speaker’s and couldn’t resist raising my eyes to see the king stand and address the council himself. Expecting some sort of reaction from the members, I scanned the room but found no one in as much shock as I was. A few shifted in their seats, but this was clearly not the first time the king had spoken to them.

  He continued, and I dropped my eyes to the floor, listening to his voice. It was smooth and solid, even as he laid out the problems before the council. “The fishermen cannot sell the contaminated shellfish, and if the tide lasts for very long, the men cannot feed their families.”

  A raspy voice added, “They also have no income for other goods. And they will need to clear the washed-up fish from the shore and dispose of them somehow.”

  “Yes,” the king agreed. “Our immediate concern is the wash-up. We don’t want any work animals eating it and falling ill.”

  “Lord Luca, your villa is on that side of the island, correct? Is there any particular assistance you require or might sugg
est?”

  I couldn’t help it—my head shot straight up again. I knew that voice.

  As the man I presumed to be Lord Luca listed what needed to be done, I stared at the young man who had posed the question.

  Aiden. What on earth was he doing here?

  There was no mistake. He was dressed more formally than I was used to seeing, but his mask was the same purple one I knew almost as well as my own green. I couldn’t help but meet his eyes, determined to confirm my suspicion, and the spark of recognition was all I needed. He sat on the opposite side of the room, closer to the top of the horseshoe than I would expect, and he looked comfortable there. Comfortable, and not ten feet from the prince and king! It was not an unusual thing for him to be here.

  My mind was spinning. Clearly Aiden was from a much more important family than I had assumed. I knew he was noble, but not this noble. Did he always attend these meetings, or was he filling in for his father? Who was his father? I should know something like that. I should know so much more about him than I did.

  He didn’t look at me again, or at least as far as I could tell. Carese caught me and frowned, reminding me I was supposed to keep my head down.

  The council broke for recess often, usually whenever there were signs of an argument brewing, but of course I couldn’t talk to Aiden during those times. I held my tongue and acted the perfect serving girl, my impatience building inside. During the first recess, I couldn’t help but ask Carese about the king’s speaking as we prepared small bowls of nuts in the hallway from a cart another servant brought up from the kitchens.

  “It’s not the first time,” she confirmed. “And he doesn’t speak often. But he has been using the Speaker less and less. It makes the members uncomfortable. The first time he spoke he sent the servants out, probably so we wouldn’t know how the members reacted.” She made a face. “There are rumors that some of the members nearly called for a new king right there and then.”

  “Just because the current one spoke?”