Between the silken dress that was so different from her roughspun tunic and breeches and the thought of having to care for a child when she really knew nothing about caring for children, she felt as though she were drifting out on the dark sea, lost forever in those thrashing waves, with no hope of catching another breath.
"Here we are, Miss." The scrawny, flitty-winged valet had barely said two words to her for their entire walk from her rooms to the nursery, and yet here they were in what felt like seconds.
Rayne gulped, fearful of what she might find in the room beyond. She stood staring at the ornate carvings of mythical creatures chiseled into the wood, until the valet urged her inside. The guards standing on either side of the door seemed to take no notice of her as she stepped through the door they’d opened for her.
The sound of pure, innocent giggling hit Rayne's ears the moment she stepped inside, and if she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine she was back home in her own village, listening to the young ones playing outside her bedroom window.
"Miss Rayne? Are you well?"
The authoritative voice caused Rayne to almost jump out of her skin. She ripped her eyes open, astonished at the scene before her.
She was not standing at her bedroom window in the little shack in her home village, but instead found herself face to face with the King of the Mystic Isle, crouched beside the fireplace, a wooden unicorn in hand. The small, navy-haired girl who crouched before him didn't look up right away. She was too intent on her toys, playing some imaginary game of knights and horses and rescuing fair maidens, to look up at the woman who’d come to care for her.
In an instant, Rayne and Asher’s eyes met across the room. Her breath was instantly stolen from her lungs the moment she looked into those dark, brooding eyes, and she knew if she looked for too long, she might lose herself entirely.
Determined not to be that woman, not to be like her mother, she quickly averted her gaze and dropped into a curtsey.
"Forgive me, Your Grace, I wasn't aware that you would be here," she stated, hiding her hands in the folds of her skirt so he wouldn't be able to see them trembling. At least these uncomfortable dresses are good for one thing, she thought, relieved that the layers of fabric would hide the noise from her knees knocking together as her legs grew weak at the sight of him.
As if he noticed how uncomfortable he was making her, the king turned his attention to the girl still playing in front of him. "Elia, please come and meet your new governess."
He urged the toys from the little girl's hands, and for a moment, Rayne allowed herself to admire their relationship. Yesterday, the king had seemed hard as stone, authoritative and not willing to back down. Now, he was gentle and affectionate, gripping the little girl's hand to help her to her small feet. The scene caused Rayne's heart to swell for only a moment before she reminded herself, this man rejected me as his bride and now I’m nothing but a glorified babysitter.
She could not allow herself to let go of that. If she did, she might simply lose herself and whatever was left of her self-worth. Trying not to think of the king anymore, Rayne instead turned to the little girl, who waddled toward her on tiny three-year-old legs. Her wings appeared to still be developing, and they beat slightly out of rhythm, as though she hadn't quite learned to control them yet.
"Hello, Miss Rayne," Elia said politely with a dip of her head as she stood before her new governess, still gripping her father's hand.
"Didn't you have something you wanted to give Rayne?" Asher asked, surprising her. What could a princess possibly have to give her when they’d never met before?
Looking sheepish, Elia released her father's hand with a nod and moved closer to Rayne. As she did so, Rayne dropped down into a crouch, hoping to make the little girl feel less uncomfortable.
"What do you have for me, Princess Elia?" she asked, delicately holding out a hand. She watched as the little navy-haired princess reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out an ornately carved wooden figure of a woman. Every detail on the woman's dress and headdress suggested she was an important woman.
"Who’s this?" Rayne asked, turning the wooden figure over, marveling at how smooth it was in her hand. There wasn't a single splinter or notch in the wood.
"She's a princess, like me," Elia announced, sounding more confident now that she seemed to know something Rayne didn't.
"She certainly looks like one," Rayne observed. Whoever had made the little figure had certainly been a talented craftsman.
"After I told Elia of your arrival last night, she insisted that you be the first to play with the princess this morning," King Asher announced, and when Elia's eyes began to glisten with excitement, Rayne's heart began to swell.
"Well, who am I to deny a princess?"
She quickly tried to turn her full attention to caring for the princess. After all, that was why she was here.
Though their first day together was a grand success, much of which Rayne and Elia spent alone, the governess had never found anything more exhausting. She was more than a little relieved when Elia finally seemed to run out of gas and she was able to slip her into bed.
She’d just done so, standing at the door to the nursery to be sure the little girl wouldn't wake up, when she heard someone clear their throat behind her.
Jumping with fright, she just barely managed to stop herself from slamming the nursery door. When she turned, ready to scold whoever had made her jump, she was startled to see the king standing before her.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you," he said, his eyes filled with genuine remorse. Rayne curtseyed respectfully, using the moment to calm her racing heart before she responded.
"I wasn't expecting to see you here this evening after your visit this morning," she admitted, keeping her gaze averted from the king's. She had to remind herself repeatedly that this wasn't a man like the men she’d met before. He was not a released criminal or the son of a criminal. He wasn't even the father of a criminal or one of the off-duty prison guards who sometimes traveled through her village on their way to the docks to go and visit their own families on the other isles. This was a king, the King of the Mystic Isle, and she was uncertain how to act around him. Before, in the throne room, surrounded by her fellow commoners, she’d felt a brief spark of bravery, but now, facing him alone, she couldn't raise her head.
"I come every evening to say goodnight and tuck Elia into bed," the king announced, and guilt clawed at Rayne's stomach. For a moment she was fearful. How was the king going to react when she announced that his routine had been interrupted because she’d already put his daughter to bed? She didn't know much about kings, but one thing she did know. They always got what they wanted.
"Your...Your Grace, Princess Elia had such an exciting day today that she passed out even before she’d changed into her bed clothes," she explained, her voice trembling almost as much as the rest of her. "I'm sorry, but she’s already fast asleep in bed."