The festival still had activities dispersed throughout the streets. Some dancers flittered from here to there in their colorful, ruffled skirts; a man who breathed fire entertained a passing crowd. A drama re-enacted Queen Sephil’s execution for adultery, the pig’s blood almost hitting me from a good distance. It was
when I was shying away from the spray, that my shoulder collided with a woman’s.
I turned around to quickly apologize but then froze, a chill crawling into my heart, growing, icing over. It was then I realized that I hadn’t frozen—the world had.
The woman had turned around to look at me, the tragedy of my name, my inescapable future staring me in the eyes in the form of one potion shop woman. A haunting fear filled my lungs, cutting off my breath.
Her dark hair spilled down her back, her lips in a genuine apologetic smile, but it was the darkened gleam in her eyes that saw me, saw what I could—would—do, that filled my throat with dread. A young girl held purple and yellow streamers behind her, and they were frozen in a state of disarray in the air, her waving arms moving at a snail’s pace.
The woman was frozen mid-turn, but her smile wasn’t immobile; it still brightened on her face, before falling into a thoughtful pout. She blinked in black and white, back and forth, before fading into color.
With a rush, sounds returned to my ears, the world resuming. My head had already snapped forward as if the world went on without us, my feet taking a few steps before I could stop them.
I whipped my head behind me, only to see the back of the woman’s dark hair disappearing completely into the crowd.
And so, I took a breath, willed my heartbeat to slow down, and then I walked away like nothing had happened as well.
My hands shook, nerves somersaulting in my stomach as I walked slowly to the palace. The church bell reverberated through the air, ringing in my ears. Tall palm trees waved in the wind, only a small breeze making its way through the streets. I could almost see the heat of the sun, the temperature having peaked mid-afternoon to an almost suffocating level. Not the best day to try and seduce someone, but I couldn’t wait; because one, he was leaving, and two, I needed to do it before I lost the guts.
After my mother’s, I’d lazed in the baths for a while, some of the girls coming with me to prepare for the last gathering tonight. The potion shop woman had been prevalent in the back of my mind, but I pushed her away. Because as Weston had told me that the seal would come to me, I knew with a certainty she was a part of it. And I wouldn’t sit and worry about something that I couldn’t control—at least not while my mind was spinning with how to ask a man to take my virginity.
The sun reflecting off the golden top of the palace came into view, and I let out a little breath, forcing the nervousness away. I can do this. I can just ask him to sleep with me for closure’s sake. He’ll understand. Right . . .? I worried my lip.
Untouchables filled the large bailey, their keen eyes on the city folk rushing in and out with deliveries. It felt like they all looked at me as if they knew I was about to ask someone to deflower me, their heavy gazes following me to the palace entrance. And then I realized I wore the dress my mother bought me—the one she bought for herself by the way—and it was far left of the scale towards ‘not modest’ but not quite at ‘barmaid.’ I wondered how Grandmother had even raised my mother. It was the biggest mystery of life.
The hall was usually open during the day for deliveries, announcements, and villager complaints at the magistrate’s office. It was always surrounded by king’s guards, the rest of the palace unavailable to the public.
I had to compel two guards to get past them, and no, it wasn’t Darren and Gregory, unfortunately. I was sure if it had been them, they’d have given me a free pass right on through. I let out an amused breath to myself at that one.
After stopping a servant girl to find out where Weston’s room was, I stood in front of his door. Just stood there for a moment, not even knowing if he was inside, but not able to knock just yet. I was debating about just forgetting this whole thing; nerves were crawling up my back, but then, the door opened, and the object of my thoughts stood on the other side.
No shirt. He wore no shirt, but I didn’t let myself look down from his face because I wouldn’t look up again if I did.
“Oh, hi,” I said, swallowing audibly.
A small smile pulled at the corner of his lips. “What are you doing?”
I bit my lip. “I was debating whether or not I should knock.” I was way too honest, and I’d never hated myself for it until lately.
He crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. So, so shirtless. “Are you going to tell me why you’re here?”
I shook my head slightly. “I don’t think so.”
He let out an amused breath and then walked away from the door, leaving it open and me standing on the other side. I stood there for a moment, only ogling his muscled back and the wolf brand between his shoulder blades.
He sat in a wooden chair that rested cockeyed from the desk, picking up one of his blades and running limestone across the edges, resuming what he must have been doing before I’d interrupted.
“What? No women in here fanning you? I thought that’s what princes did in this kind of heat.”
He glanced up from his work with a sly smile. “You offering, Princess?”
Heat rushed to my cheeks, my heartbeat stuttering, but thankfully he’d already averted his gaze, running his hand along the edge of his blade, testing the sharpness. I made myself busy by shutting the door and leaning against it, then eyeing the room like I’d never seen one before in my life.
Sheer curtains blew back from the open balcony in the lazy breeze, the bed was prince-sized with a cream-colored duvet; pink accents and flowers covered the light wooden desk and end tables. A laugh escaped me. “Maxim gave you a lady’s room.”
“Yea,” he said after a moment, “he’s a bastard.”
“Well, at least you made it your own,” I said, hinting at the arsenal of knives he had laid out on the desk.