A Dove's Tale

Chapter 54

I’d always been an early riser, but waking up at four o’clock in the morning was pushing it. The sun wasn’t even up to keep me company. I had to leave at five o’clock, though, which meant I couldn’t linger in bed, so I lit a candle and got to work. Mother was better last night and this morning than she had been in a while, which made me feel a little better about leaving her today. I told her the abbreviated, glossy version of my day yesterday, and she provided the occasional teasing commentary about Prince Chevalier. Talking about him always made her happy. I’d stopped trying to remind her that our stations were too different for anything to happen, and she didn’t care that he was twelve years older than me, either. It wasn’t worth arguing about.

But outside my house, away from her, I was in the real world. Not that the real world was a bad place. It was just different. And with the prospect of putting together gift baskets for the foreign princes, it was a good different. I liked to do things for others, and I liked to give presents. Today could be a very fulfilling day for me if all went well.

My first hurdle to having a good day was keeping Marge in a good mood.

She was already flustered when I arrived, directing servants in fifteen different directions all at once, and she put me to work as soon as she saw me. As I guessed, my first task was to prepare the foreign princes’ rooms. I dusted and scrubbed every inch of those rooms until they sparkled, running through my gift basket idea while I worked. Floral arrangements would be easy enough with a quick trip down to the gardens, but anything else would require a shopping trip to the city. Fortunately, Marge was too busy to keep a close eye on me, so even if she didn’t approve, it might be doable. She didn’t notice me slipping into the kitchens at eight o’clock to remind Prince Chevalier’s preferred cook about his breakfast, nor did she see me pick it up at nine o’clock. Would she miss me sneaking out of the palace for an hour or two, though?

I needed Prince Chevalier’s approval. She couldn’t argue with him.

He was my second hurdle. I had to maintain a professional distance from him, and I had to make him think I could handle this without his interference.

“Good morning, Prince Chevalier!”

“No, it’s not,” he grumbled from under the blankets.

“Not with that attitude, it won’t be. I was thinking about putting together gift baskets for the foreign princes. Do you have any suggestions, your highness?”

“Hmph.” The blankets rustled behind me as I pulled his clothes out of the bureau. “That isn’t necessary.”

“Well, no, it’s not, but I thought it would be nice. You and the other princes could sign cards for them, too. It’s just a way to start their visit off on friendly terms, don’t you think, your highness?”

I set his clothes on the bench and met his icy blue eyes as he sat up. His obvious frown showed his distaste for the idea.

“I hope you won’t give them that face, Prince Chevalier,” I said, smiling despite his expression. “This is a goodwill gala, after all.”

“It won’t be a celebratory party like you think,” he muttered.

“Of course not, but I’ll leave the politics to you, your highness. Is it alright if I go now? Before the head maid misses me?”

That brought a small smirk to his lips. “You didn’t tell her.”

“I’m trying to establish friendly terms with her, too, Prince Chevalier. Although that may be more difficult than pleasing the foreign princes.”

He stood up, stretching languidly. “Go. If I need anything, I’ll call you.”

“Yes, your highness.”

So far, so good. Maybe not entirely professional, but we could be friendly without crossing the line into flirting, and he didn’t say no to my gift basket idea. I made it back to the kitchens, and Marge, before she realized I was ever gone, and she sent me to the ballroom to help with decorating. I had never been in the ballroom, and a giddy excitement built in my chest as I approached the massive wooden double doors decorated with elaborate floral gold designs.

“Ivetta!”

I looked back to see Theresa walking toward me, smiling widely.

“I haven’t seen you in forever!” she exclaimed, pulling me into a hug.

“It’s good to see you, too,” I agreed. “Are you here to decorate the ballroom?”

“What else? Have you seen it yet?”

I shook my head. “I’ve never even been in there before.”

“Oh, you’ll love this. They just waxed the floor last week.”

She held the door open for me, and I gasped in amazement. The wooden floor was so shiny it was almost reflective, with an outline of darker wood in the center of the floor forming a rose. Ornate golden chandeliers covered most of the vaulted ceiling. A wall of floor to ceiling windows framed in gold opened onto balconies overlooking the gardens. The inner walls were white with gold trim, already festooned with wreaths and garlands of roses. Servants scurried about with more decorations, setting up tables for refreshments, chairs and music stands in a corner for the orchestra, and a few more chairs scattered along the walls. I could almost imagine men and women in formal wear twirling around the dance floor.

“Okay, enough gaping. Let’s get to work,” Theresa said, laughing.

It was fun to work with her again. We chatted easily about whatever came to mind, which, for me, was mostly about the ball. I didn’t know what to expect, and I had a lot of questions.

“What are those two chairs for?” I asked, indicating the solitary chairs set away from the wall on opposite sides of the room.

“They’re for Prince Chevalier and Prince Leon,” she explained. “Sometimes they like to sit down while they’re holding court.”

“Holding court?”

“A ball isn’t just a dance, Ivetta,” she said, laughing. “This is the palace. Everything is about politics. The center of the room is for dancing, and the edges are for wheeling and dealing. Prince Chevalier’s faction has a lot more people than just other princes, and it’s the same for Prince Leon’s faction. A ball is a way for them all to get together and discuss business. If you get to watch it tonight, it’s pretty interesting. Prince Chevalier will stand, or sit, right there,” she pointed toward the chair on the left side of the room as viewed from the entrance, “Prince Clavis or Prince Nokto will be on his right, and the rest of his faction will line up in front of him, waiting their turn to talk to him. Although Prince Clavis or Prince Nokto will handle most of the talking. Prince Leon will be over there,” she pointed again toward the chair on the right side of the room, “and his faction will form a big crowd around him, laughing and talking. Then, when business is done, Prince Chevalier will leave, and Prince Leon will join the dancing. Or, at least, that’s what it’s like most of the time. It might be different with the foreign princes here.”

“Prince Chevalier doesn’t stay at all after business is done?”

Theresa laughed again. “I thought you knew him better than that. He’s not much for parties. There isn’t even a ball on his birthday, and all the princes get a ball every year - except for him and Prince Licht.”

“Prince Licht? I guess he doesn’t seem like he’d enjoy a party much, either,” I said thoughtfully.

“He never comes to any of the balls. I’ve heard a rumor that something terrible happened on his birthday when he was a kid, but you know how rumors are here in the palace.”

“Yeah, I know,” I said glumly. Theresa shot me a questioning look, and I quickly changed the subject. “So, when do you think we’ll finish today?”

“Today? Oh, no, Ivetta, tomorrow. The dancing won’t end until after midnight, and then we have all the cleanup to do before we’re done. Tomorrow is going to be rough.”

Maybe I could get a carriage home…

Everybody was laughing and talking, and when Theresa and I lapsed into silence for a while, I started humming a traditional folk song, trying to keep my mind off the sleepless night ahead of me. Somebody picked the tune up and started singing, and, before I knew what happened, an impromptu dance broke out. I didn’t know how to dance, so I hung back, clapping and cheering with the other wallflowers, while Theresa joined the dancers. Her red curls broke free from her messy bun and bounced and spun with her. She was enjoying herself so much that it was tempting to follow her onto the dance floor when she beckoned to me. I shook my head shyly, and a butler grabbed her hand and whisked her away.

“Already done with work?”

I looked over at the double doors to see Prince Jin strolling into the ballroom, an easy smile on his lips. The dancing and singing stopped immediately.

“No, no, keep going,” he said, waving them on. “This looks like more fun than the real thing.”

And, just like that, everybody was back at it again - except Theresa. Her cheeks were suddenly bright red, and she ducked her head to hide her face as she crossed the floor to my side.

“Well, everything’s done here, so we should go,” she said, breathless from dancing.

“Theresa? What are you so shy about?” I asked teasingly.

“Let’s go,” she said urgently, taking my hand and pulling me toward the door.

“Not leaving so soon?” Prince Jin asked, blocking our path to the door, his hands shoved casually in his pockets as his burgundy eyes flicked from me to Theresa. “I was looking forward to dancing with two beautiful ladies.”

“Then you’d better not miss the ball tonight,” Theresa replied. “We still have work to do.”

“Didn’t look that way a minute ago,” he said, smirking at her.

“You were a minute too late,” she retorted, avoiding his eyes.

Prince Jin shrugged, and his eyes shifted back to me. “How about you, Ivetta? I didn’t see you dancing.”

“I don’t know how to dance, Prince Jin.”

“And you’re not teaching her,” Theresa interjected, her green eyes flashing as they snapped back to his face. “We’d better go, before-”

“What is going on here?” Marge exclaimed.

Dead silence fell over the room. Marge’s angry hazel eyes hadn’t landed on me yet, but my heart had already dropped into my feet.

“Hey, Marge, just in time,” Prince Jin said, turning to face her. “Wanna dance?”

Her stern expression softened immediately. “Prince Jin, did you start this?” she scolded him gently.

He shrugged. “You got me.”

Theresa started creeping toward the door, tugging me along with her. I was afraid to breathe.

“I’ll have to ask you to leave the servants alone to work, Prince Jin,” Marge continued, putting her hands on her hips. She was smiling. I pursed my lips to keep from smiling, too.

“Alright, alright, I’ll behave. But you owe me a dance,” he replied.

Theresa and I slipped into the hallway and burst into a run. We were giggling before we rounded the corner.

“She’s a completely different person for the princes,” I said between giggles.

“I’ve heard she’s worked here since they were children,” Theresa replied. “They all know how to work her.”

“And what was that about with Prince Jin?”

Theresa’s face turned bright red again. “You know how annoying he is,” she said dismissively. “We should probably head back to the kitchens for our next assignment.”

“Theresa…”

“Okay, so I have a little crush on him. Who doesn’t?”

“Whatever happened to Prince Nokto? I thought you were crazy about him,” I teased.

“Well, yeah. He’s sexy beyond belief. But Prince Jin’s got that, plus all those muscles…”

“Theresa, you’re drooling.”

She shoved my shoulder. “I am not.”

“Mm hm. Well, while you’re busy not drooling over sexy princes, I’m going to stop by Sariel’s office.”

“Willingly? What is wrong with you?” Theresa asked incredulously.

That was a fair question.

“Marge assigned me to the foreign princes, and I’m putting together gift baskets for them. You know, as a welcoming present. I need fancy paper for the cards,” I explained.

And he sent Belle to me for an introduction to the princes, so I hoped that meant he wasn’t holding a grudge about that time I yelled at him. He seemed agreeable enough when he came to the library for a book and asked me where to find it. If I was really lucky, maybe I could get more information about the foreign princes, too.

“Wow. She really hates you,” Theresa commented.

“I know. Are you coming?”

She sighed. “Well, I guess it would be rude to let you die alone when you’re trying to be so nice,” she muttered. “So, what else are you putting in these gift baskets?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” I replied, leading the way to Sariel’s office. “But I have a few ideas, and I figured I’d run them by the princes when I have them sign the cards.”

“Does this mean you’re going into the city to go shopping?” Theresa asked hopefully.

“I think I have to, but I’ll need to figure out money and getting past Marge.”

“That’s easy. Prince Chevalier.”

Except for the whole threat to my life thing. I didn’t think he’d see Theresa as an acceptable bodyguard, and I didn’t want to get her in trouble with Marge, either.

“I think you should wait here,” I told Theresa when we stopped outside Sariel’s door.

“No arguments here. Good luck.”

I took a deep breath and knocked at the door. Sariel’s deep voice told me to enter. I opened the door and stepped inside, glancing around to verify nobody else was there and I wasn’t interrupting anything important.

Of course, I wasn’t interrupting anything important. He wouldn’t have told me to come in if I was.

“What is it?” he asked, glancing up at me from something he was reading on his desk.

“I won’t take too much of your time,” I said, approaching his desk as if I wasn’t inwardly a bundle of nerves. “I was wondering if I could have some paper to make cards for the foreign princes.”

Sariel lifted his head to look directly at me, his lavender eyes narrowing behind his thin glasses. “What will these cards say?”

I hesitated. “Well, I hadn’t settled on the exact phrasing yet, but I was thinking of a generic greeting with all the princes’ signatures.”

“Sit down.”

I did, nervously. “If it’s not a good idea-”

“No, it’s an excellent idea, but you must realize how important it is for the wording to be correct,” he interrupted, shocking me into silence. “Certain of our guests may search for an opportunity to take offense.”

Politics were complicated. I didn’t think I’d have to puzzle through each word of a simple greeting card. But Sariel clearly wasn’t holding a grudge, which was a relief, and he actually approved of my idea. We took a few minutes to decide on the phrasing, then he had to see my penmanship to determine if that was up to par, and then he gave me the paper. I painstakingly wrote each greeting, hyper-aware of my quill strokes and Sariel’s critical gaze.

If I hadn’t felt sorry for Belle before, I did now. Sariel wouldn’t be an easy teacher to please.

Theresa had her hair back in a messy ponytail and was twisting a curl around her finger nervously when I finally returned to her in the hallway.

“Oh, good,” she said when she saw me, dropping the lock of her hair. “I thought you were done for.”

“It was only fifteen minutes,” I replied.

“The longest fifteen minutes of my life. Let’s get lunch before Marge puts us to work again.”

“Okay, but I can’t take too long. I need to get these cards to the princes for them to sign.”

Theresa sighed. “You can stop working for an hour.”

“Make it a half hour.”

“Ivetta!”

“There’s a lot to do,” I protested.

“And many hours left to do it,” Theresa reminded me. “The guests aren’t even arriving until evening.”

The guests. Including the foreign princes. Sariel added nothing to what Prince Chevalier had already told me, except more anxiety.

“Okay, an hour,” I reluctantly agreed.