Tran suspects nothing of what happened in my room when he meets me at the door, nor when we walk down the hall. The only sounds are our feet tapping in and out of rhythm on the floor. The halls are devoid of any servant life, most likely everyone is helping out in the kitchens to prepare the food for the ball. Tran is silent for most of the way, his face creased in thought.
"Wish for a thought?" I ask, mostly just to break the silence that hung over us like a shroud.
"Whats that?" Tran turns to me, his brooding replaced by curiosity.
"I made it up with my Mom, before I served the Crawdoves." I answer quietly, "It was kind of a thing we said when either of us wanted to talk. You tell me whats on your mind, and as a gift in return I give you a wish."
"Sounds a bit sketchy. How do I know you will give me a wish at all? And how do I know you aren't tricking me?"
I glance at him, our eyes meeting quickly before we both look away. "Trust." I say simply. Our steps abruptly stop, and I look up to see the grand doors of the Ballroom in front of me. Like the doors to Tran's room, they are engraved with complex designs and scenes. Unlike his however, the carvings are beautiful in a more gruesome feature. These ones also seem not to have any sort of double carving on the other side.
I shiver, thinking of Tran's door. I still don't know what to make of that.
Both doors are a deep redwood, carved with scenes of battle. Men with swords bow before a King upon a large throne. Arising, they turn a march to the next door, crossing the invisible break and leaping to ensnare unsuspecting victims on the other side. The worst part is, most of the slain are laying with swords fallen from their hands, children hidden in the shadows.
The Fae wars.
I spake my head slightly as the doors begin to creak open, slicing the gruesome scene in half before splitting completely and opening to reveal the revelry inside.
Golden light filters down from crystal chandeliers, shining on dancers below who slow as the sound of trumpets signal our arrival. Men and women alike, each and everyone is dressed in elegant gowns with jewels and elegantly styled hair. I can't help but feel out of place with my gown that now seems simple compared to theirs. Windows line the side of the ballroom, leading to the balcony outside, where the moon shines down on the Queens private gardens below. The doors are open, and they let a cool breeze into the already hot and stuffy room.
Tran squeezes my hand reassuringly, or threateningly, I'm not sure which. If I am unable to keep up the charade here, I'm likely to end up in the dungeons. Mumbles and whispers alike dance around the room as the herald announces our arrival, and I nearly fall down the stairs when I am gently tugged forward by Tran. He waits, his hand tightening uncomfortably around my own as I compose myself.
Together we trek down the stairs, all under the watchful eye of the people. At the bottom, they part to make a path to the thrones. In which, the King and Queen sit, watching me like hawks. The Queen especially seems quite devious, her gown is a bright gold, a show of wealth. Especially in the pompous outdated style she prefers it in. The king sits upon his throne, sipping from a goblet, and by the way his head is tipping to the side, I can already assume it is not his first drink.
Together we ascend the steps to the small platform in front of them, and bow slightly. Tran steps to the side, releasing my hand and sitting upon a much less ornate throne beside his parents. A servant scrambles out with another chair, nothing more than a dining chair with a ribbon tied to the top.
My face flushes with embarrassment, since the ball was on such short notice, of course they didn't have a seat for me. I step forward all the same, giving the servant a grateful smile. At least I don't have to stand.
"Stop." The voice rings out, regal and commanding from the Queens mouth like a blade. The happy atmosphere seems to fade, replaced by a wary acceptance. As if everyone was expecting a horrible order to come next.
"I will not have my soon to be daughter in law sitting upon a dining chair while we lounge upon our thrones." The Queen says, and the audience visibly relaxes when they realize all is well.
But not quite.
"Instead she shall mingle with the attending nobles, learn a bit more about our kingdom. I'm sure this is no inconvenience to you?" The Queen continues, now looking directly at me. I nod timidly, not wanting to be executed on the spot. "Good. Be off with you then." She dismisses me, looking back to the people before her.
I turn, numbly walking down the stairs again. Everyone's eyes are on me, to be denied to sit upon a throne, even the dining chair I was given, is a very large dismissal to the authority I hold as the soon to be Queen.
At least now I know where she stand on the scale of whether or not I am accepted.
My steps echo loudly throughout the hall, and The crowd around me seems to separate, people backing off to a respectful distance, trying to ignore me and hope to avoid an execution.
"Wha happened to tha music?" A voice bellows from behind me, I cringe and turn to see the King sitting upright in his throne, swinging a disoriented hand about and nearly spilling his wineglass upon his clothing. "Mosiciansss..." He slurs slightly, pointing to a now very frightened looking band of men standing with instruments in the corner of the room. "Play! Eat! DRINK! We are here to selebrate? Are we... Are we not?"
For a moment the King looks confused, and my gaze flicks to Tran, who sits with his eyes looking anywhere but his father and mother. His knee bounces up and down nervously. The Queen looks off into the distance, her face uncaring now that she has enacted her small revenge upon me.
With a few trembling and incorrect notes, the men begin to play again, filling the silence with music. When the King relaxes, the atmosphere of the room does as well, couples dancing to the music and other nobles simply talking among themselves.
The people around me still keep a small distance between us, and after standing awkwardly for a few minutes, I turn to the windows. Heading out into the moonlit night with a small flow of other people, most of which are giggling couples who go out to the edges of the balcony or even down the steps into the garden itself.
Gag.
I lean against the railing, looking to the sky and watching the moon. My cheeks still burn, even if I don't care for the Queen, her approval of me is necessary if I want to stay here un-hassled while I investigate. I wasn't wrong when I told those men Len sent after me that I was still on the mission, but I didn't say that I'm not so sure the Underground has the right idea.
As far as I'm concerned, anything that happens beyond this point is my decision. I can't let the kingdom fall, the Underground is ravaged through and through with both the victims of this, and then in the edges are the one who came for the promise of power.
Don't get me started on the one who are just plain stupid.
But I can't allow the current King and Queen to keep the throne, they have very obviously taken their position for granted for too long and the whole kingdom has fallen onto hard times. Anybody can see that, except for maybe the King and Queen who sit and feast for no reason while their people starve.
I roll my eyes, pulling away from the railing. You know what the perfect thing to do right now while everyone is preoccupied? Go get my revenge. My lamp warms slightly as I think of the mess I found it in. Oh yeah, I'm not letting this one go.
The only problem is the little spies. Of course Tran wouldn't trust me to not do something stupid, and reveal this whole thing to everyone. Trying to remain inconspicuous, I turn back around, away from anyone who might see me working magic in the ballroom.
The lovers in the garden would be less likely no notice anything, so I with slow controlled movements, my hand reaches up and cradles the lamp delicately. A soft glow emits from it and I clench my fingers, trying to hide it from prying eyes. Right on cue, there's a crash, then a scream behind me. I turn to see the Queen, standing from her throne looking outraged.
A broken wine glass is in one hand, and he looks down her front angrily, the contents of her glass all over the golden fabric. Everyone's eyes are on her. Good.
I turn, hurrying down the steps and into the garden, tripping over roots, and getting my immaculately cleaned shoes all dirty. When I can no longer hear anybody else, I collapse against the nearest hedge; catching my breath, then turning towards the wall next to me.
The walls are crawling with ivy, taking root in the rough stone of the old castle. Making it easy enough to climb up and haul myself through the window, after which I looked down to make sure nobody had noticed my little spectacle. In a snap, I'm clad in my maid clothing again, shaking my arms in a vain attempt to get the glow to fade quicker.
I opt not to change my hair color this time, instead just heaving it into a bun atop my head. Justine should be at the ball, or in the kitchens, or anywhere but the halls I would assume. Shes the only maid I need to worry much about, since pretty much nobody else was allowed in the see the castles new guest.
I walk down the hall, holding my head high. Like I belong here. Like I know what I'm doing, and where to go; even though I honestly don't. I've never been to this wing of the castle before. My eyes flick to the walls, looking for some sort of indicator of where I am. The only thing I see is the cold stone walls.
Turning corner after corner, I stop when I hear footsteps. Shoot, just what I need. Panicking slightly, I grip my necklace, and huddle against the wall. Praying for some sort of disguise.
Rounding the corner are two maids and a guard. I stand perfectly still, hoping my disguise doesn't fail miserably. I wince slightly when one of the maids stops abruptly, looking directly at me. She pulls the other two back, "Was this always here?" She asks, her face twisting in confusion.
"Uh, no. I don't believe it was. The King and Queens taste in, um, decorating is sure, uhh, unique." The other winces, looking at me with an equally confused expression. My hands begin to sweat in fear.
I look to the guard, who looks at me with neither an impressed nor unimpressed gaze. "Let's just go." He says boredly, "I bet around the next corner is something even weirder."
"Weirder than a bright pink tapestry of the Queen stuffing her face with roast meat?" The first maid says, still hovering. I wince, the Queen would never permit something like this, I know that at least. I'm lucky they don't ask more questions, otherwise they might just try to take it down. My feelings towards her obviously influenced this particular choice in disguise; although not directly.
"I'm not sure anything could be weirder than that." Says the second. "Lets just keep going. We have to get to the kitchens before midnight or Henry will cook us for tomorrow nights stew."
My eyes widen, and my face splits into a grin, despite the ache in my trembling arms. The path to the kitchen goes right past Trans room, I should be able to find my way back into a more recognizable part of the castle by just following them.
Together, the two now reluctant maids follow the still impassive guard away to the other side of the corner. Immediately, the facade falls, and I collapse to the ground, exhausted. Slowly, I drag myself to my feet and creep around the corner in an attempt to catch up with the maids and the guard. I can see them at the end of the next hall, and begin to follow at a distance.
"Hows your mother Dehlia?" The first maid asks, breaking the silence we have traveled in for the past few minutes.
"Shes, fine. Thank you." Says Dehlia quietly. We walk in silence for a few minutes longer, before she replies. "Hows your father doing with that cold?"
"Hes fine, I hope. With all the guards around the castle these days, you can hardly get a letter in or out. Last I heard from him, a family friend was tending to him. But that was before I got to the castle. I haven't heard anything since." I frown, more false cover stories. They lie even to each other. Or were they brainwashed into thinking it's true?
"Well, that's good. I do hope he gets better." The group had begun to walk slower, and the guard increased his pace impatiently.
"I thought you said Henry requested you at the kitchens immediately ladies?" He said with an irritated scowl.
"I suppose your right then. Come along Felecia." Dehlia picked up the pace, and so did Felecia, nearly running to keep up with the guard. Together they begin to discuss the kitchens stock of food, and how the ball will affect it, wondering when the next deliveries will come.
"I think with the size of the feast they were preparing in the kitchen today, we might just need a delivery tomorrow, the day after at the very latest." Dehlia said.
"Of course, with how much those royals eat, it's not a wonder why half the kingdom is starving." Felecia bobs her head bitterly. "And now the Prince is getting married, lets just hope his reign is at least less greedy than his parents."
"Please." Dehlia laughs.
"Quiet. You know what you are speaking of is considered treason?" Says the guard, momentarily frowning before his face becomes impassive again.
"How so? I'm just voicing my opinion about the future ruler."
"Any more open and you would be thrown in the dungeons with the other traitors. Why are you so against the royals anyways? They were generous enough to let you work here. Be grateful."
"I- I don't suppose I have a reason to dislike them. I just have a really strong feeling of, I don't know, anger whenever I see them. " Dehlia ponders, tapping her chin in thought.
"Why do you have to walk everywhere with us anyways?" Felecia asks, looking at the guard with suspicious eyes. "At first it was nice, but now it's just creepy. Are you going to report our 'traitorous' actions to your high and mighty King?"
The guard replies, his voice irritated to hear her suggest such a thing when I stop, I knew where to go from here, the Trans door should be just around the corner. I watch the group proceed, listening to their voices and footsteps to fade before rounding the corner myself to the empty hall.
Sure enough, I can the intricate patterns all over the door. I step up to it, and study it again. The contrast of his door and the door in the hall surprises me. His radiates... Life, happiness, but with an underlying feeling of deception. The one leading to the ballrooms is just terrifyingly brutal. I wonder who was skilled enough to carve them and breathe such emotions into the wood.
No matter, I need to leave before someone catches me. With a quick look around, I check to make sure nobody is there, looking up and down the empty halls. Then reach one hand to the door and the other to my lamp. My skin begins to glow, more in anticipation than anything else. I haven't done a spell this big in years, the only spells I was ever allowed to cast were the small petty ones I limited myself to so that Cynthia wouldn't know how much power she had with me in her control.
The pull I had tying me to Cynthia has noticeably weakened, giving me hope that maybe, just maybe, with distance from her comes freedom.
A foolish thing to hope for, but still.
My hand glows against the door as the magic bends to my will. In my minds eye, I can see the water slowly flooding the room. The wooden furniture begins to float up to the ceiling, and as a consequence I can feel sweat beginning to bead on my brow. When the room is about half full, I lean against the door, sliding to the bottom as I listen to the water slosh about inside. My hand still glows, radiating the excess power.
I lean my head against the door for a few minutes, catching my breath.
That's when I hear the gasp.