By the time she made it downstairs, lunch was finished and Fallin and Allison were nowhere to be seen. Thank the Gods. It wasn't exactly intentional to miss it, more like a happy accident.
It meant Gen had some time before dinner and instead of worrying and over analyzing each part of her test and wondering how exactly the prophet would be chosen, she decided to walk around and see the other parts of the palace. Councilor Ulysses had offered to give her a tour but one look at his face told her that he'd prefer it if she politely refused.
After an hour of wandering down random hallways and getting hopelessly lost, she decided food was a good idea. She did skip lunch.
She spotted the maid talking to Princess Cora before, dusting a porcelain vase. Gen decided she looked friendly enough with her blonde hair, a pale freckled face, and bright brown eyes. "Hi," she said. "I'm looking for the kitchens?"
The girl- Anna she remembered- smiled, "Yeah, that's down the stairs two floors and on your right. You can't miss it, just smell your way there."
"Right, thanks," she said, and added a slightly awkward smile. She walked away feeling kind of stupid. What was with that smile?
Why was talking to people so awkward?
Anna was right though. The kitchen was easy to find once she caught the whiff of freshly baked bread. There was a smaller dining room probably meant for the help and across the room was a curtain. She pushed through the entrance and gasped.
The kitchen was huge for one with wooden floors and tables. Cooks and servants of all ages worked diligently around, slicing, stirring, mixing, and tasting. There were machinery that Gen didn't even know existed being used to help prepare meals. There were racks of pots and spoons, shelves of pans and tins, and counters with sinks and cutting boards. Most importantly, there was so. much. food. Her mouth was watering and her stomach was rumbling. She needed something now.
She walked over to where a small, timid looking girl was slicing carrots and took a deep breath. One awkward encounter was worth food. "Hi," she said, maybe a little too loud because the girl jumped. "Um, sorry. I was just wondering, is there any food here that I can eat? I'm really hungry?"
She blinked, and said quietly, "I don't know if that's allowed. You should ask him." She pointed to where a tall, gangly boy that looked her age with chocolate brown skin and really curly hair was humming and sprinkling spices into a boiling pot of soup.
Okay.
Gen walked over to him, and tried again, "Hi, I was wondering-"
The boy saw her and jumped back. The spices in his hand flew into the air and into Gen's eyes until she was coughing, "Ach, um. Hi-"
"I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed, grabbing a rag and handing it to her. Gen took it gratefully and wiped her burning eyes.
"It's okay," she said. The boy looked really upset so she tried to reassure him. "Really, it's my fault for distracting the chef. I'm Genevieve." She stuck out her hand. Was that still a thing people did?
Before she could awkwardly pull it back, he took it and they shook. His grip was firm and he smiled. "I'm Dell. What can I do for you?"
"I'm really hungry," she said.
"Then you've come to the right place."
A few minutes later, Gen was sitting on a stool in the kitchen stuffing pieces of warm bread with smooth butter into her mouth, taking small breaks to drink the really good cider that Dell recommended. In between bites she introduced herself a bit more, "I'm one of the candidates for the Royal Prophet position, to replace Leonard Baz."
Dell looked intrigued, "Hey, do you think you can read my future?"
She shrugged, "Sure, maybe later." She was surprised that he was so immediately accepting to her ability. The few people back home that knew about her gift seemed disgusted by it. Having an uncommon power in the small town where 60% of the population had the gifts of growing was difficult sometimes.
"I have the gift of fire," he said, opening his palm. A small flame slowly kindled and grew from his skin.
"Wow," said Gen. She'd never seen a fire gift that close before. From what she could tell, his gift was definitely stable.
He shrugged, "It's pretty useful in the kitchen."
"It must be great to work in a place where there's so much food," she said.
He nodded. "Me and my friend Nina sneak pastries and bread all the time and the pay is decent. It's a nice job."
"How long have you worked here?"
"I was apprenticed to the head cook Matilda when I was 9 but I didn't start working as a chef until I was 15 so only two years of that," he said. "How about you, what did you do back home?"
"I helped my Mother with her palm reading shop," she said, hoping he wasn't one of those types who looked down upon her mother's type of business.
"That sounds cool," he said thoughtfully. She was relieved and excited. No one had ever been this friendly to her so quickly. Could this be her first friend?
-
By the time dinner arrived, Gen had spent hours in the kitchen with Dell and the others. She met Nina, a spunky girl with bright auburn hair and sparkling blue eyes. It was clear after watching their interactions that there was something between Dell and her but when Gen hinted at her suspicion he scoffed.
They roped her and some of the other kitchen hands into a game of tabletop Nacck where you couldn't touch the floor or hold the ball for more than ten seconds. Gen left the kitchens feeling light for the first time since she left home. Dell and Nina had wished her luck on becoming prophet and said they would be glad to have another friend in the palace.
She was glad too.
She made it to the common room where Councilor Ulysses had told the three candidates to meet so they could discuss behavior and etiquette while dining with the royal family. Ulysses, Fallin, and Allison were already present when she entered the room with a grin on her face.
A grin that faded when she saw Councilor Ulysses' appalled face. "I do hope you plan on changing before dinner Miss Genevieve."
She looked down. Her navy dress was covered with flour which must have gotten on her somehow in the kitchens. She blushed, "Yes, of course."
Allison and Fallin shared a look. Both of them had changed since the morning into even more fancy clothing if that was even possible. Fallin wore a cobalt blue tunic which was tailored sharply to his features and Allison wore another dress, this time a periwinkle.
"Now, dinner begins in twenty minutes so I must tell you all proper etiquette," he said. "I'm sure Fallin is used to the kind of standards we expect here in the Royal Palace and it seems Allison is well prepared on that front too." Genevieve wished she could sink through the floor and disappear. The two other candidates looked smug. "You are very lucky. Today is only a test run. His royal highness, King Alastair and Prince Liam are on their annual hunting trip in the Hinter Valley and they won't be returning for another few days. The Royal Prophet, though not actually royalty, must act as if they were when dining with royalty..."
Genevieve spent the next fifteen minutes trying to cram as much information into her head and also wishing she had prepared in advance. She hadn't thought about what the Royal Prophet would be expected to act. She hadn't thought at all.
After he was done explaining, Gen rushed back to her room and changed into her dark purple dress. She brushed her hair and even pinned it back, wishing she had enough time to shower even though she showered the previous morning. She wished she brought make up or better clothes, or..
Stop Gen, she told herself.
You can't control what's already happened.
So she went to dinner.
-
Ten minutes in and she was already overwhelmed. Councilor Ulysses had unfortunately sat her in between Fallin and Allison. Across from her was where he sat with Princess Cora on his right, who was currently talking to Anna the maid, and shooting them unreadable glances. Next to her was Queen Valeria who was every bit as beautiful and bland as the gossips had said. But she didn't seem haughty or arrogant per say.
She seemed forlorn and tired. There were eye bags beneath her eyes which were visible despite the concealer. When the dinner was served (some sort of meat with roasted vegetables and that delicious bread that the chefs were baking earlier), she took a few small bites then resorted to pushing it around her plate.
The seat next to her was the head of the table- the King's seat. The empty seat beside Fallin and on the other side of the king's seat was the prince's seat. Fallin seemed smug about occupying the former Royal Prophet's seat. Gen didn't know if it was random or if Councilor Ulysses sat him there because he believed Fallin would be chosen.
He probably would be.
No one spoke except for Councilor Ulysses and Allison and Fallin. The latter two seemed to be doing their best to make themselves appealing to the princess and queen but both seemed disinterested.
"I really love that color on you Princess Cora," said Allison, lightly. "Is that Fenrin or Meronni?"
Princess Cora blinked. "Fenrin," she replied smoothly, not taking her eyes from her plate. Gen resisted rolling her eyes. She probably didn't give eye contact to those beneath her.
The dinner itself was delicious. Gen had to compose herself and force tiny bites into her salivating mouth because it was the proper thing to do. She nearly panicked and forgot which utensils she was supposed to use but after a few deep breaths, she remembered. Little fork for salad. Medium fork for vegetables and pasta. Big fork for meat. Small spoon for dessert (some sort of berry cake). She reached for a bowl in front of her. For the soup-
She froze.
Which spoon was it for the soup?
Medium or medium-large spoon? Panic rose in her throat. Just pretend you weren't reaching for the soup, but Fallin had already seen and so had Princess Cora who was giving her an odd look. She was frozen with her hand out and now her face felt warm. She heard a snicker from her right- Allison.
"Is everything okay?" asked Councilor Ulysses, gesturing to her hand.
"It seems Genevieve hasn't been paying attention to your lessons Councilor," said Fallin, smirking.
Councilor Ulysses raised an eyebrow.
Genevieve felt like dying. She was mortified. She slowly brought her hand back and looked down into her lap.
And then a miracle happened- "Oh please, I always forget which spoon to use, especially that the medium spoon is used for soup," said Princess Cora, rolling her eyes. "Who ever came up with the idea for so many spoons is ridiculous."
"Your majesty-" started Councilor Ulysses as Genevieve stared at the princess with a mix of amazement, gratefulness, and relief. Fallin looked shocked and Allison was already glaring at her.
"Councilor Ulysses, I heard that you're overseeing the arrival of the Serapis and Captain Fiona in the coming weeks," Princess Cora said, fixing him with a stare.
"Yes, your highness, I am." Genevieve would have guessed from the way he paled at her tone, that Councilor Ulysses is terrified of the princess.
"Well I do hope you're up to the task. The crew of the Serapis are esteemed royal guests and deserve only the finest arrival. I'm surprised you're not putting more effort into the planning Councilor," she said, sawing at a piece of meat. "I do believe that would reflect poorly on your capabilities."
"Your highness, I assure you I am doing everything I can to ensure a wonderful visit for the royal privateers," he said, slightly nervous now. Genevieve wanted to laugh, but she restrained herself.
"I hope so for your own sake," she remarked. "Right mother?"
Queen Valeria blinked. She looked a little dazed. "Yes love, I agree completely."
Princess Cora smiled at her mother and patted her hand. Genevieve could see that there was a love between the two as strong as the love between her and her own mother. Her mother who she already missed dreadfully.
By the time they reached dessert, Councilor Ulysses had excused himself, probably off to prepare for the Serapis some more since being confronted. Fallin and Allison continued to attempt to make conversation with Princess Cora who obliged rather reluctantly Gen could tell. Gen would have never expected Princess Cora to be so.. nice? Human?
The royals always felt like characters in some sort of story. She knew they were real but she never really thought of them with real emotions, expressions, and even words (the ones not drafted by advisors to make them seem like the nicest, best rulers anyone could ask for of course).
She finished her berry cake and gathered the courage to excuse herself. It couldn't be too bad. She just had to speak up for the first time since the dinner started. In front of the Queen and Princess of Olumia. No big deal. "Uh-"
"Genevieve Delora." Startled, she looked up to see a butler.
"Yes?" she said, quietly. "Yes?" again, louder this time.
"Councilor Ulysses has summoned you to his office," he said. "I shall escort you."
"Oh," she said, standing up. A dread was growing in her stomach. Was she in trouble?
"Good riddance," muttered Fallin next to her. "I'd say it was a pleasure to meet you, but lying is looked down upon by the Gods."
"It was a miracle you were even chosen in the first place," whispered Allison.
She didn't have the strength to remark back. What if she was being sent home?
Somewhere between the train ride and the dinner, she actually began to care about whether she was chosen or not. She realized she desperately didn't want to be sent home.
She followed the butler down the main hallway and left, then right through the maze of the palace until they reached a room with a plague dictating Councilor Ulysses on it. The butler knocked for her and then left her alone. Breath Genevieve, she told herself.
The door was opened by... Doctor Lona. "Ah Genevieve," she said. "We have your results."
Her results. Her body relaxed. They just wanted to tell her her results. She tugged at her Lusiav bracelet.
Inside, Councilor Ulysses was sitting in a large armchair. He looked uncomfortable. Doctor Lona took her spot standing beside him.
"Genevieve Delora," he said. "It seems you have tested very highly earlier this morning."
Highly? A little flicker of hope rose in her chest, "You meant stable or..."
"Excellent," said Doctor Lona. She was beaming. "Not only that, but that test you took this morning? You tested farther and more successfully than any other candidate I or any other tester has ever had". There was pause in which Gen felt her heartbeat increase and her hands get sweaty. "Genevieve, you scored the highest level for reading the future then we've ever seen."
"I- I did?"
"Yes," she said. "20 years into the future! That's amazing!" said Doctor Lona. "And without training. The highest any prophet without training has scored is 5 years into the future. The highest a trained prophet your age has scored is 12 years!"
The words were echoing into her brain. Highest. Highest. Highest. She scored the highest they've ever seen!
"Imagine what you could do with training!" she said, eyes bright.
Councilor Ulysses was rubbing his temples. He gave her a thin smile, "Yes, as it would seem Genevieve, there is no need for any further competition and testing. You are the new Royal Prophet."
She blinked. Wait.
She was the new royal prophet.
For the king of Olumia.
"We shall discuss your duties and new living arrangements tomorrow once the two other candidates are notified at breakfast," said Councilor Ulysses. "We'll have to do something about the training, but for now Doctor Lona is happy to take you on."
"Lessons begin tomorrow afternoon," she said. She looked happy.
"Good night Genevieve," said the councilor. "Welcome to the palace."
-
When Genevieve woke up the next morning, she couldn't see. Terror spiked through her and she stumbled to her feet. Her eyes were open but everything was dark. It was morning, it couldn't be that dark at this time.
After a few minutes of stumbling around blindly and hitting her hand on the bedpost, her vision returned, though slightly blurry. She felt woozy, disoriented, and her head hurt.
Then she remembered she took the sleeping pill for the first time last night. She frowned, and found the bottle in her dresser.
Side effects: Can cause dizziness, sickness, headaches, nausea, and temporary blindness for those just experiencing it.
She rolled her eyes. She should have known. All potions and solvents come with a price as Celeste says. At least it wasn't that bad compared to others.
She looked around her giant room.
Then she remembered, she was Royal Prophet.
She was chosen.
She thought of Fallin and Allison and felt a cruel satisfaction that there were being rejected without even a chance at competition. They'd be notified this morning. After further consideration, she decided she'd take her breakfast in her room this morning. She'd rather not be there to witness the shock and denial from her fellow contenders.
On a spontaneous urge, she danced around the room, feeling blissful.
She was in the palace! She was the Royal Prophet of the entire kingdom! Happiness swelled in her heart. Wait until Mother, Father, and Mira found out. They'd be overjoyed. She made a mental note to write her sister later today. After her first lesson of course.
She'd be getting lessons about reading the future!!
After a butler delivered her food and she had devoured the dainty pastries and berries, she showered and changed into a light blue dress. She felt compelled to dress in slightly brighter colors now. A knock came at her door as she was brushing through her thick hair.
It was Councilor Ulysses. "Genevieve, we missed you at breakfast."
She looked sheepish, "I always eat breakfast alone, it's a tradition." One she came up with five seconds ago but the opportunity for some alone time in the coming months seemed appealing enough to her.
"Sure," he said, looking at her strangely. "I'm here to escort you to your new room."
"My new room?" she said.
"Yes, the Royal Prophet has a room on the fifth floor along with the rest of the royal family and the privateers when they visit."
"Oh, of course," she said. "I'll just pack up my stuff."
He looked amused, "Oh Genevieve, the maids will take care of that. Speaking of which, you will have your own personal maid as well. She's already cleaned your room."
Her own maid. That didn't sound as pleasant as Councilor Ulysses probably thought it would be. She didn't need a maid to do stuff for her. The whole concept was foreign.
"That really won't be necessary," she told him.
"What won't?"
"The maid," she said. "I don't need one and I'm sure she'd be-"
"Miss Genevieve," he interrupted. "Or should I say Lady Genevieve- your title has been elevated with your position. It would be in your best interest to agree to and be grateful for any generosities that the king, his royal majesty King Alastair, allows you. He granted you a maid, so you should take it." His tone was filled with contempt but also severe warning.
She nodded, stupefied.
-
When she stepped into her new room, she gasped. It was twice the size of the room she slept in the night before. The carpets were velvety red and the curtains were the same color, draped over tall vast windows that let in so much light. The bed was enormous and after a moment's hesitation, she sunk onto the wonderful mattress and let out a content sigh. She grabbed one of the pillows and hugged it to her chest. Everything about the room was so grand, so big.
Reluctantly, she left the comfort of the bed and explored the other parts of the room. There was a desk, bookshelves filled with books about Olumia, a plush armchair, and she had her own bathroom! At home she shared with the rest of her family which meant she had to wait for her mother to go through her hour long morning and night routines and her sister's excessively long showers before she got her turn.
She scanned every part of the clean, white room- its bathtub with clawed feet, its tiled floors, and the sink and the toilet- her own toilet!
She came back into the main room and spotted another door. She opened it and gasped. A closet. Not just any closet, but one she could walk into. It was huge.
She felt tears come into her eyes though she wasn't sure why.
She sat down in the middle of the room. It was empty of course and even when she put her few clothes in it, it'd still be empty. Maybe not for long though. The thought of more. Of having more clothes, more space, just more- was looming over her now.
"Ahem," said a voice, and she jumped up, whipping her head around.
A girl was peeking into the closet and staring at her, a frown on her face. "I'm Elise, your maid." She was giving Gen an odd look. Elise was a short girl with black hair that fell to her shoulders, thin pink lips, and angled brown eyes- eyes that carried a slight disdain that unsettled Gen.
"Right," she said. "I'm Genevieve," she said, sticking her hand out.
Elise frowned again, looking at her hand, "I know." After an awkward second, Gen retracted her hand, and cleared her throat.
"I don't really need a maid, so I don't know what you're supposed to do," she says. "Maybe you could just use this time as your time off."
Elise looked appalled, "I'm a maid. I have to clean and do your laundry. That's my job."
"I realize that but-"
"You can't make me not do my job," she said, scowling.
"Um, that's not what I want to do. I know you're supposed to do the laundry and clean and stuff," she said. "But I can do that for myself, you don't need to do anything for me." She smiled.
To her amazement, the maid looked offended. "I bet you're so proud of yourself."
Gen blinked. "What-"
"I bet you think you're doing me a favor," she spat. "You think you're being generous by letting me do nothing. You think you're giving me a gift by not forcing me to complete your every whim and need."
"Um, that's-"
"I'm your maid," she exclaimed. "I will now be sweeping your room, let me know if I can do anything else for you Lady Genevieve." The way she said it felt like a stab. Elise gritted her teeth and walked away. She grabbed a broom and began sweeping, while Gen stood there feeling stupid.
"Okay," she said lightly. Her maid hates her, great.
a/n: Okay, maybe this is how long the rest of the chapters will be from now on. I'm posting this one early because I finished it so fast. If you liked this chapter, please consider giving it a vote or commenting some feedback. I really appreciate it.