The door to the dining room opened, and Lucia stepped in. Her long blonde hair had been pinned up in intricate curls, and it glittered with gems and jewels. She wore a tight dress that revealed her narrow waist with a neckline so low, it left very little to the imagination. Her skin shimmered when she moved, and she reminded me of a goddess.
I watched King Rainier close off andfelta door slamming shut when she walked in.
“I thought you were meeting me on the terrace,” Lucia said in a bright voice.
“I had business to take care of.”
Lucia looked at me down her nose like I was a bug that needed to be squashed, and she pursed her lips together.
“Well, don’t take too long,” she said, looking at the King again, and she smiled coyly. She fluttered her eyelashes at him, leaned in, and kissed him.
I cringed and turned away. I couldn’t stand the sight of her with him. I couldn’t put my finger on what bothered me. I didn’t like Lucia. Beautiful on the outside, but grotesque on the inside.
When she left the dining room, King Rainier sighed.
“Do you have questions?” he asked.
I wanted to know what he saw in her and if he was happy about the match. He seemed so sad. How could he be happy with someone they’d forced him to marry?
But then, he’d recently lost his father. His pain was going to last for a while, still.
I shook my head.
“Good,” King Rainier said. “If you do, plenty of Fae are around who will be happy to help you.”
The door opened yet again, and the servant girl returned. She had a bowl of soup on a tray and a plate of freshly baked bread with butter that melted from the heat.
My stomach rumbled again.
“I’ll leave you to it,” King Rainier said. “Enjoy your meal.”
He left the dining room, and the servant girl followed. He left me alone in this grand room, with the chandelier over the dining room table, the glittering walls, and the large French windows that showed only darkness outside now.
I sat on one chair, picked up a slice of bread, and bit into it.
I groaned with delight and scarfed down the rest of the food.
8
Incessant beeping ripped me out of a deep sleep. It took me a moment of panic to realize the beeping came from a holographic clock displayed on my nightstand.
I sat up and rubbed my eyes. It was still dark outside.
The door opened, and Bessie walked in.
“Good morning, my lady,” she said with a smile. “I trust you slept well.”
“I could have done with an hour or two more,” I grumbled.
She didn’t answer. She walked to my closet and chose an outfit for me to wear.
“You must hurry. They will serve breakfast in half an hour. If you miss it, you won’t eat until lunch.” She peeled back my bedding when I didn’t get up. “Come,” she urged.
I got up and stretched. My body ached after the fight yesterday.
I changed into the clothes Bessie had laid out—black leather pants and a matching top with no sleeves. Silver thread embellished the chest and the hem of my pants. Despite the material, the outfit was comfortable, and when I tested my movement, I found it was unrestricted.
Bessie urged me to sit down at the dressing table, and she braided my hair again, tying it back so it would stay out of the way when I trained.