Chapter 148

“Sage, catch me,” I brusquely command the second the girl walks through the door. Without any further warning, I tilt backwards, my white shift floating forward as I fall back in an elegant faint.

She is quick. Too quick, honestly. With the haste that an ordinary maid shouldn’t possess, she makes it across my dressing room in record time, catching my body just before it hits the ground.

“Your highness! Oh dear! Are you alright? Just breathe!” Her hand fans over my face, which does feel refreshing.

But I pop open my eyes and smile at Sage.

“Don’t fret. I was pretending,” I tell her. I sit up from the ground, with her hovering around me like I’m a baby bird taking its first steps.

“Pretending?”

“Yes. Pretending to faint. Is that not popular for young ladies? To faint every now and then?” I ask. From my impression of this era of dress, women would often faint from how tight their corsets were. I’m not old enough to have to deal with corsets or stays, but those days are coming sooner rather than later as my sore chest often reminds me.

.....

“I’m afraid I wouldn’t know, your highness,” Sage says with an ignorant shrug.

“No, I suppose you wouldn’t.” I grin at her as I rise from the ground. “But how was it? I’ve fainted a few times before, but I worry that I look funny doing it. So I decided, I ought to practice.”

“What a novel idea!” the spy maid gushes. I do wonder what her personality is like when she isn’t trying to be that cliche quirky, innocent maid that always becomes best buds with the female lead.

“It is, isn’t it?” I agree, basking in my genius. I point towards the stationery set that Sage left on the floor before she caught me.

“Sage, do you know why I called you here today?” I ask. I look into her clear eyes, ones that would have honest to god fooled me if I hadn’t expected the possibility of Empress Katya sending in a spy. I wonder if people get the same misleading energy from me, although at this point, those who ought to know of my double nature already do.

“No, your highness,” she shakes her head so vigorously that her white cap nearly falls off.

“I should like to attend a tea party. So I will dictate and you shall write my reply,” I inform her.

I see a few thoughts run through her head, probably logging that information for future reports.

“A party, your highness? That sounds delightful! There is so much wonder beyond the gates of the palace,” she gushes with a starry-eyed look.

I chuckle lightly to myself, briefly wondering if she is mocking me. After all, it is common knowledge that I was found beyond the pearly gates of the imperial palace.

“Of course, I know,” I just say. Many wonders and much darkness beyond the gates, although there is a healthy helping of both within the golden opulence I’ve been reluctantly forced to call home.

“Dear Lady Elsbeth Laroche,” I begin to recite, causing Sage to comically rush to the stationary and open up bottles of premium ink to write down my reply. “Many thanks for the invitation. I would be most delighted to attend and make your proper acquaintance. May the sun of the empire always shine down upon you. That’s it! Don’t forget to use my special imperial seal when you seal the envelope with wax.”

The scritch scratch of her pen frantically writing my message leads to a wonderful payoff. Sage has decent handwriting, with fancy swirls on her g’s and y’s that I could never dream of copying, even if my right hand weren’t in poor shape.

I lean over to admire her work and nod appreciatively. “Well done.”

———

“That’s what she said? Well done? Tch, as expected of an illiterate bastard,” Linette seethed under her breath.

Sage gave her a cursory glance, none of her former coquettishness in sight. In fact, she was a bit of a blank slate, lacking any display of emotion. It reminded Kora eerily of her mistress, the empress.

Speaking of Kora’s mistress, she gave Linette a look that silenced her before beckoning for Sage to carry on with her report.

“Continue,” Empress Katya ordered in a soft voice, lounging on her elaborate bedspread in a delicate robe lined with lace that the emperor would never see. Kora had heard that soft voice order the most horrific things.

“The recent assassination attempt seems to have spurred her into playing a larger role within society, Your Majesty. She ordered me to write an RSVP to the Young Miss Laroche’s upcoming tea party.”

“You wrote it?” The candlelight flickered off porcelain cheeks.

“She does not seem fond of writing,” Sage admitted. She was of sturdy stock, able to kneel for long durations of time without budging. If the empress had wanted the bastard princess dead, Sage would have it done within seconds.

A strange smile alighted the empress’ face as she fondly recalled a night that had given Kora nightmares. Princess Winter’s right hand had been black from the poison as if the flesh would begin to necrose and rot, and yet the next day it was as unblemished as ever albeit somewhat crippled.

“No, I don’t suppose she would be. Amazing how she survived that, right Linette? She should’ve been deaf, dumb, and mute with the medicine I applied.”

Kora marveled at how easily the empress exchanged the word medicine for poison.

Linette, who had been brash and overconfident as usual instantly cowed, dropping to her knees. “Apologies, Your Majesty. I’d thought the usual amount of the special medicine would be enough to make her succumb to its effects.”

“It must be something to do with her being the promised child. She’d never let me get close enough to try again, don’t you agree Kora?” the empress said lightly, dragging the usually quiet Kora into the conversation.

Kora gulped nervously from the quiet reading corner where she stood. The queen often retired in the evenings to that very corner with books on religion or warfare and a cup of chamomile tea. Evidently, tonight was not one of those peaceful nights.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” When in fear, it was better to stick to shorter responses. But today, despite her pleasant appearance and soft tone, it was evident that the empress was in a bit of a mood.

“Yes, that it is because she was the promised child in the prophecy that I specially requested for my daughter? Or yes that the princess has risen enough in status that I could never get her alone to my whims again?” the empress continued, dragging Kora into a sticky situation.

Kora could already see how this evening would end, with either her or Linette getting punished. Usually, Linette’s big and stupid mouth ended up taking the punishment for them both. But it wasn’t as if Empress Katya simply forgot her. Katya did not simply “forget” anyone or anything, every action and inaction was a deliberate choice.

Linette was like a fierce, rabid dog, one that needed to be whipped constantly to obey its master and bite those it was commanded to. As for her cowardly self, an example every now and then was enough to make her fall into line like the most obedient of soldiers.

Kora cleared her throat, suddenly sweating even though the cool spring air was blowing in through an open window.

“Yes that the bastard princess would never escape any of your plans if you so wished it, Your Majesty,” Kora said carefully. She knew that calling Princess Winter a bastard always made the empress happy, but today she’d miscalculated.

“Bastard princess? She is still an imperial princess, a daughter of the emperor, my husband,” Empress Katya replied cooly.

Kora instantly fell to her knees beside the cozy yet elegant armchair. “I have misspoken, Your Majesty. Please punish me as you see fit.”

“Punishment? The true punishment will be when the emperor forbids the princess from stepping foot outside the palace. It seems he is just as keen as myself to keep a close eye on his mistake, save for when she must serve at the Holy Church. How he must hate the Holy Church that my family holds in the palm of their hand!” Empress Katya chuckled. Her laugh was so melodic to the ears that one who did know the empress’ true personality would be tempted to laugh along.

A drop of sweat from Kora’s forehead dripped off and sank into the sumptuous carpet she’d been lucky enough to be standing near.

“There will be no punishment for you. Quickly, rise and go fetch Felix for me. I wish to know what kind of idiocy my dearest son has been engaging in to cause such a catastrophe,” the empress said, seeming to remember that Kora was still kneeling there.

“You are most gracious, Your Majesty,” Kora said in thanks, backing out of the empress’ lavish bedroom. Her stomach twisted in knots.

Yes. The empress knew that the sham of an assassination attempt turned real had been in part due to her son. Her short temper was the result of spending her entire day covering the few loose ends he’d unwittingly left behind. But that didn’t mean she was letting Kora go scot-free. In fact, Kora felt even more stressed as she curtsied and hurried out to summon Felix.

The longer punishment was delayed, the more creative the empress became with it.

She hurried through the night, the sound of her steps making her move even faster until she was nearly running. Kora hated the empress’ games, but she had no choice. She had never had one – her family was born on Duvernay territory and when her mother moved to the House’s main estate in the capital as a housekeeper, a much younger Kora had attained the coveted role of Katya Duvernay’s personal maid.

Everyone saw the glory of the position, but none noticed the guillotine poised over Kora’s neck, ready to fall at any second. Their jealousy and admiration made sense. Boring, plain Kora with eyes the color of mud and a long, drawn face had somehow gotten a role many coveted but few would ever attain. But most of those around the empress had come into her employ after Linette had replaced a prior maid whose name Kora did not even dare think about.

“Ow!” She yelled, her body colliding with a body as firm as rock and tumbling to the ground. For a moment, she thought she had run into a marble column by accident. She was in the interconnecting outdoor hallways that ran throughout the imperial palace like cobwebs. However, they were usually empty at this late hour save for the occasional low-ranked servant.

A large hand reached out to catch her just before she fell into a puddle of skirts.

“How dare-” she held her tongue the moment she saw the face before her. “Your Majesty! My Lord.”

No, it wasn’t the emperor himself before her. If it was, she’d be dead. But the faces of the guards who surrounded him constantly and Emperor Helio’s few, trusted associates were permanently carved into her mind. She fell to her knees for the second time that night.

The captain of the royal guard was accompanying the emperor, having stepped in front of the emperor to catch the brunt of Kora’s collision. She felt faint embarrassment until she realized what path the emperor was on – the one that went directly led to Sunset Palace. He stood silent, dressed in black. Although she didn’t dare look, she could feel his eyes stabbing into her flesh as if he could see her fear.

Sometimes she swore that he knew more about the machinations of his estranged wife than he let on.

“Aren’t you in the empress’ employ?” Lord Amarelius, the Mad Dog himself, inquired with a gentle tone. He was known to be kind to womenfolk, but brutal with anyone who stood opposite of him.

“I am, my lordship,” Kora replied, falling into the pleasing yet slightly monotonous tone everyone who worked in the palace had long perfected.

“What has you running around at this hour?” He asked again, his seemingly innocent questions probing for something Kora would rather die than share.

Kora took a deep breath. Mentioning Prince Julian would bring suspicion onto him, after all the mother and son duo did not meet too often now that he was older and certainly not in the evening. And if she made such a deathly error, even Akira the Devourer would pity the terrible suffering the empress would inflict on her.

So Kora decided to commit the great crime of lying to the emperor.

But even her lie was one that would get her in trouble. The still healing whip lashings on her back seemed to cry out in pain as she opened her mouth. Those wounds were a cruel remnant from when she’d made a mistake 3 years before. The queen had used a special “medicine” that time, one that ensured the wounds would never fully heal.

Kora sucked in a short breath, cursing her terrible luck. “The empress bid me ask His Majesty that her highness, Princess Winter, be allowed to attend her first tea party at the residence of Baron Laroche.”

By her great fortune, or misfortune, the only other palace that the path she was currently kneeling in led to was the central palace where Emperor Helio resided.