Shadow Faerie

Chapter 8-2

She heads into her enormous closet before I can say anything else, and at that moment, the door to the sitting room opens. I peer out of the bedroom door and see the queen, dressed in a robe and slippers, striding across the sitting area with three of her handmaids and an unfamiliar woman following her. Each of the handmaids carries a dress. “Your Majesty,” I say to the queen, bowing my head in respect as she comes toward me.

“Emerson, hello.” I’ve never seen her wearing so little makeup and with her hair—black and burgundy like Roarke’s—so plain. She leans in and kisses the air on either side of my cheeks. “Ready for the big announcement tonight?”

“Yes,” I say with confidence and a wide smile, neither of which are genuine.

“Aurora, love, I’ve got the dresses,” the queen calls out, walking past me. “Ah, there you are,” she adds as Aurora exits the walk-in closet.

“Ooh, exciting.” Aurora rubs her hands together.

“Put the dresses over there,” the queen tells her handmaids, “and then you may go.” The handmaids leave the dresses floating in the air above the bed before turning and silently leaving the room. The woman I don’t recognize brushes something off the skirt of one dress and plucks a loose thread from another.

I walk slowly around the bed so I can see the three dresses from all angles. The first has a full skirt of deep pink tulle with delicate flowers growing up the back from the waist to the neck. The second is the color of champagne. Its many-layered skirt is covered in gold flowers, and the tight bodice has a sweetheart neckline and no sleeves. The last option is made of rose gold fabric with thousands of tiny crystals glinting in the light as the dress sways gently in the air. The corset top laces up at the back, and though the skirt is kind of scrunched up with a bit of extra fabric over the butt, it isn’t as puffy as the other two.

“They’re beautiful,” I say.

“Aren’t they just?” Aurora replies. “And apparently, they’re even more gorgeous when you put them on. The pink one changes back and forth between pink and purple, and the petals at the back slowly unfurl as the night goes on. The champagne one comes with a pair of long gloves made of a translucent fabric that looks like champagne bubbles rising up your arms. And the rose gold one has an enchanted shimmery effect that looks like glowing embers.”

“Sounds cool.”

“They’re Raven Rosewood creations,” Aurora continues. “Mother and I put the word out to all the top designers that we were looking for something spectacular for a very important event. We hinted at a potential engagement announcement—without using those exact words, of course—which resulted in plenty of rumors flying around. We had dozens of designs submitted, and Mother wasn’t too keen on you wearing a Rosewood dress, seeing as—”

“Seeing as she’s dressed some of the Seelies in the past,” the queen fills in. “I did not want you wearing one of her dresses. When I saw her name on the outside of the scroll, I almost threw it away without opening it.”

“But there was just something about her designs that we kept going back to,” Aurora says. “Something that just … captivated us.” A dreamy look comes over her face.

“They did turn out quite lovely,” the queen admits. “I can see why this Rosewood woman has become popular in recent years.”

“Did you send an invitation to her?” Aurora asks. “I want to meet her.”

“Of course not, dear. I told you that wasn’t appropriate. She has connections to the Guild, and she’s designed for the Seelies before. We may have decided to use one of her creations, but I didn’t feel comfortable having her here. I asked Lemon to send someone to pick up the dresses, and to be discreet about it.”

“Oh, Em, this is Lemon, by the way,” Aurora adds, gesturing to the woman who entered with the handmaids. “Our head clothes caster. She probably made most of the clothes you found in your wardrobe.”

“Oh. Thank you, Lemon.” I try not to snicker at the strange name. “You did a good job.”

She nods to me. “Thank you, my lady. And yes, I sent Jefford to fetch the dresses this morning, and I made sure to impress upon him the importance of discreetness. Told him we don’t want the embarrassment of anyone knowing we’ve associated with someone who’s worked with Seelies before, even if her work is good.”

“So silly,” Aurora grumbles. “People are going to find out anyway. We’re royalty, for goodness’ sake. It’s an honor to design for us, so I’m sure Raven Rosewood will tell people.”

“Will she?” the queen asks. “I doubt she’d want to risk her reputation with the Seelies.”

“She won’t say anything,” Lemon tells us. “Jefford left the dresses in my room with a note to say the pickup went smoothly. The designer accepted her p*****t and happily agreed to keep quiet about her involvement.”

“And when people ask tonight?” Aurora says. “Because you know some of those women are going to want to know who dressed their new princess. All they care about is the latest fashion and trends, and once they see Em in, say, champagne bubble gloves, they’ll all be adding the same thing to their new outfits.”

“Really?” I ask. “That’s so silly.”

“That’s the kind of influence you have as a princess,” Aurora says with a self-satisfied smile as she leans against the vanity. “I once wore live sprites dangling from my ears, and at the next party, I saw at least five other girls wearing the same thing.”

“Poor sprites,” I murmur, imagining the creatures that look like tiny winged people tied to Aurora’s earlobes.

“If anyone asks for the designer’s name, tell them it’s a secret,” the queen says. “Tell them our head clothes caster has an especially inventive new apprentice, and we wish to keep him to ourselves.”

Aurora sighs. “Fine. Anyway, we need to decide which one Em will wear so we can all start getting ready.”

“Uh, shall I go and ask Roarke what he’s decided to wear?” I suggest.

“Yes,” the queen answers. “Aurora and I will check that all the adjustments for her new dress have been done correctly, and then she’ll meet you in Roarke’s suite.”

With a glint in her eye, Aurora adds, “Mother doesn’t trust you to accurately report what Roarke’s outfit looks like without my help.”

“Aurora,” the queen scolds. Then her expression shifts into an apologetic smile. “Well, I suppose that’s true. Sorry, Emerson.”

I shrug, then freeze with my shoulders pulled up, remembering the queen doesn’t like shrugging. “It’s fine. See you there, Rora.” I hurry out of the bedroom, waiting until I’m outside the suite before relaxing my shoulders.

The glossy marble floor passes quickly beneath my feet as I head for Roarke’s suite. I knock on his door, but after waiting several moments, neither he nor one of his servants has called for me to come in. I knock again and wait, but still nothing. The absence of guards outside his suite makes me doubt Roarke is inside, but he has mentioned that sometimes his guards patrol further along the hallways just outside this wing of the palace. I crack the door open just enough to stick my head inside. “Roarke?”

No response. Knowing Aurora will be here in a few minutes, I decide to wait in Roarke’s sitting room until she joins me. I shut the door and wander slowly around the couches, comparing the suite to Aurora’s. Similar furniture fills the space, though in a less delicate style with dark wood and glossy black finishes. I walk to the window and find that I have an excellent view of a sculpture I’ve never been able to see properly from the ground: a giant snake rearing toward the sky, surrounded by black rose bushes. Creepy, I think to myself as I turn away from the window.

From the corner of my eye, I notice movement near the bedroom door. Something dark, like a shadow sliding across the wall. I turn quickly, expecting to see someone there—Roarke or one of his servants—but no one is behind me. I turn on the spot, my eyes traveling over every inch of the room. I look at the wall again, but the shadows created by the furniture and decor are motionless. It must have been something outside. A bird flying past the window, perhaps. Still, this is a palace filled with magic and enchantment, so it’s possible I saw the shadow of something that is now hiding in this room with me.

The idea sends a shiver up my neck and into my hair. Be brave, I remind myself. This is your home now. You can’t be afraid in your own home. Forcing my legs to move, I walk around the room again. I bend and look under the furniture. I pull the curtains away from the wall and look behind them. As far as I can tell, I’m alone in this room.

But this isn’t the only room in the suite. My eyes slide to the doorway leading to the bedroom. That is, after all, where I saw the movement just now. I cross the room and peek around the half-open door. I see another window and part of a four-poster bed. No movement or sound, though, so after a moment I push the door open enough to walk into the bedroom. The bedroom that will soon be mine too. The bed that will soon be mine.

An image of Roarke and me together in that bed flashes across my mind before I can stop it. I swallow in discomfort and try to push the image away. I’ve been avoiding thinking about that particular part of our union, but now that I’m staring at the bed that will soon belong to both of us, it’s impossible not to think of what will have to happen in it.

I turn away as a shiver whispers across my skin. I still have time, I remind myself. Time to find a way out of this whole arrangement. The engagement announcement will happen tonight, but the actual union ceremony won’t take place for another few weeks.

A voice out in the sitting room startles me, but it’s only Roarke. “Yes, please close the door, Marvyn,” he says. “I’ll only be a few minutes.” Breathing out and almost laughing at myself for my silly fears, I turn back toward the door. Hopefully Roarke won’t be too annoyed after I explain why I’m in his room.

But I stop when I hear a second voice. A female voice.

“Is it still safe to speak in here?” she asks.

“Yes,” Roarke answers. “We won’t be overheard.”