Memories of the night before came to her in a gentle wave, and she recalled drifting to sleep in Isael's arms. The high lord was nowhere to be seen, only the chirping of morning songbirds breaking the silence of her large chamber.
She unfurled her palm to find that she was still holding the flower that he'd given her. The one she'd made bloom with life magic. She got up and went to the vanity, setting the small flower down next to the diamond that had come loose from the diadem. She'd forgotten to tell Isael about it and wondered what it meant.
The diamond was still a diamond, which meant that it must have been illusory magic. Unless life magic could somehow allow her to turn a stone into a flower, and then back to stone. If it was illusory magic, then that meant she might have the ability to project her illusions, though she still didn't understand how she could have done it.
As she pondered the two flowers, it occurred to her that this was only the second time she'd been alone in well over a week. The first had been the night that Isael had given her his blood. Any peace she might have felt then had been abruptly shattered when she'd begun her transformation.
Now mostly settled in her new skin and untroubled by intrusive images, at least for the moment, she could appreciate the comfort that came with solitude. Her present life was so different than in Atera, where she'd been largely left alone in her room when she was not on display for guests. Rather than feel lonely, she'd relished her time to herself. Visitors to her room had seldom come bearing good news.
A sudden rhythmic rapping noise drew her attention to her chamber door. Cera walked to the door as the rapping continued but was hesitant to open it. As she debated reaching for the handle, the door swung open.
Maewyn entered in a rush of perfumed air. She was wearing crimson and green robes, her fiery hair pulled up in a tight bun. Her eyes swept over Cera as she passed, her red lips pursing.
"Why did you not answer?" Maewyn asked, stalking in the direction of Cera's closet. "And why are you still wearing your gown from last night? Are you not capable of changing into your own night gown? Or dressing yourself in the morning? Did our lord bring you directly to your room last night?"
Cera gently closed the door and started after Maewyn.
"Which of those questions would you prefer I answer first?" She liked that she could now be cheeky without getting smacked, although the look Maewyn shot her did give Cera pause.
"Come and get dressed. You should have already been composed, now we will be late."
She followed Maewyn through the door, realizing it was her first time setting foot in her closet. It was obscenely large, big enough that she could have fit her old room in it with space to spare. The queen mother, who owned exactly four dresses—all black—and three pairs of shoes would have clicked her tongue and deemed the closet "profanely extravagant."
The closet was almost entirely empty, but with a spark of pleasure she noticed that her trunk had been unpacked and the contents had been carefully arrayed on one of the shelves. All of her favorite books were there, lined up beside her small keepsake box and her journal of pressed flowers.
Her Ateran dresses were there as well, though she wasn't particularly attached to any of them. She was surprised they'd been hung, rather than discreetly burned. They were well-made. Plain, but adequate for a woman of her station. Still, she could hardly imagine wearing the puffy gowns in Viranhildr, and the fabrics may as well have been burlap next to her elven robes.
There were three sets of robes, none of which she'd seen before. All of them were white, but were embroidered with cerulean and bronze, the colors of Atera.
Maewyn yanked one from the rack and wagged her hand at Cera. "Undress. Quickly now."
Cera started working at the ties of her gown.
"Are we going to breakfast with Lord Isael?" Just saying his name made her skin prickle.
"The high lord is in the council chamber and there is no time for breakfast, you slept too late. We must begin your training. The moon will wax full next week and I will see that you are prepared."
"Prepared for what?" Cera asked as she pulled the gown from her head. It snagged on something in her hair.
The diadem.
Grunting, Maewyn helped her get untangled. She took particular care in removing the diadem, which she placed on a nearby shelf.
"I told you last night," Maewyn said. "You will need to learn how to fulfill your duty and give our high lord a child. That is why you are here, unless you've forgotten."
Cera turned away, hiding a smile as she removed her slip. She couldn't help but remember how she'd said something similar to Isael, and how it had made him laugh. She wondered how long it would be until she saw him again, and wished she could skip ahead to that time, past whatever Maewyn had in store for her.
"I haven't forgotten," Cera assured her.
Behind her, Maewyn said, "You spoke to him last night. What was it about?"
Cera tensed, recalling the rest of the conversation, much of which had been decidedly un-humorous. Isael had made it clear that her life magic would make her a target.
"I beg your pardon?" Cera asked, stalling.
"At dinner," Maewyn said. "You spent half the night talking to him."
Cera let out a breath. "Hardly. We only spoke for a few moments, and only about trivial things. I don't recall much, what with the wine."