“What other reason could there be for penance?” I’m completely offended that he thinks I deserve to be punished for something I had absolutely no control over.
“Public image, Kricket…the crown has stepped in, instantly elevating your position by giving you its protection. They sought to counteract this political move by showing that you would still be responsible for what has occurred. Now, we will need to rethink how you are presented to society.”
“How many wards does the Regent have?”
“One,” he says, nodding toward me.
“Well then, giving me penance would be just like putting a hat on a spix to disguise its horns, Ustus,” I reply.
“It’s what?” He attempts to stop himself from smiling.
“Giving me penance won’t distract anyone from the fact that I’m now the Regent’s ward,” I bite my thumbnail in agitation.
“Don’t bite your nails, you’ll ruin your teeth,” Ustus says, looking at me. “A light punishment would have gone a long way with most citizens. If people thought that you had been punished, they may be far less likely to shun you,” he watches for my reaction.
“Some people will shun me? What are we, Amish?”
“Many will have a hard time with your Alameeda heritage. Penance may have made you a little more…sympathetic to your peers.” He is trying to be upfront with me, and I appreciate it.
“Ah, they want to see me put in my place, huh? Grovel a little and then maybe we can be friends.”
“Your grasp of the situation is impressive,” he replies, forgetting his communicator for a second.
“What were you all planning…I mean, for my penance?” I ask with a sense of morbid curiosity.
“Nothing too tragic…a rotation in the public square.”
“Huh?”
“You would’ve been made to stand in the public square for a rotation or so,” he explains, shifting his eyes back to his communicator while I glare at him.
“Are you saying that I would’ve been put in a stockade or something and put on display for a day—a rotation—to be ridiculed?” Color floods my cheeks.
“You would not have been put in restraints…if you cooperated with the court,” he explains defensively, and his face flushes a little too, while avoiding my eyes.
“That’s archaic,” I accuse, resting my head against the seat. “Would you have sewn an ‘A’ for ‘Alameeda’ to my chest and allowed people to throw rotten cabbages at me, too?”
“No, really your imagination is flamboyant. No one would dare throw anything at you. It would just cause enough embarrassment and discomfort to you to show everyone that you have paid your debt for violating our laws. It would also give everyone a chance to view you and get accustomed to you. It would make some citizens completely sympathetic to your cause, because some would see the punishment as unjust.”
“I see the punishment as unjust…I don’t grovel,” I retort, crossing my arms. “There will always be haters, Ustus. I can handle them on my own.”
Pulling through the gates of the palace once again, we take a different driveway, heading to the west entrance. Complex lawns of intricately patterned hedges and water features drift by the window as we move at a more sedate speed along the outer drive. Turning and approaching the palace, I sigh, feeling small compared to the enormous fortress ahead of me.
After exiting the car, Ustus ushers me up the impressive stone steps to the towering front doors. Speaking quietly to uniformed men who clearly work here, Ustus inclines his head. In moments, a tall, willowy woman who is at least 6’ 4” enters the foyer, approaching us.
“Ah, Ustus.” She smiles at him and inclines her head. “This is Fay Kricket?” She turns her violet eyes on me, smiling again.
“Fay Kricket, this is Thea Moore—she’s the chatelaine. She will show you to your room,” Ustus says. “I will see you again at supper this evening.”
“Can’t wait,” I reply absently, still studying Thea. Her hair is shorter; it only reaches to her shoulders, but it’s dark like all the Rafes’ around here. She appears to be middle-aged, which probably makes her freakishly old, but with that age is an obvious air of sophistication and refinement.
“Please follow me,” Thea says, and waits for me to walk beside her. “We have put you on the west arcade. You’ll be among other young females who are staying here for the summer solstice.”
“The solstice?”
“Yes, you’ve arrived just in time for the swanks that take place at this time,” she informs me, like I’m an invited guest. “Do you like parties?” She tries to make conversation while climbing a sweeping staircase that could accommodate a Humvee with no problem.
“Mmm, I live for swanks,” I say, trying to be agreeable. “But I really have no experience, err…comporting in a venue such as this one.”
“Yes, you were raised on Earth, were you not?” Thea asks, like it’s not a crime.
“I was,” I answer as we turn down a long gallery. Encountering a pair of really tall ladies, they both stumble to a halt just before we pass, becoming completely mute as their eyes follow me.
“I will mention this to Tofer,” she says as we pass tall, carved columns of etched marble, pretending that didn’t just happen.
“Tofer…the physician?” I ask, remembering the doctor who looks like a sexy drummer.
“Yes. He and Yazer will be instructing you on everything from the basics of our daily life here to the history of Ethar.” Uck, Yazer, I think, remembering his awkward questions.
Before I recover from my cringe, we turn into a substantial sitting room with an immense fireplace. A large gilded mirror hangs above the mantel reflecting the sunlight from the two sets of French doors that lead to a stone terrace. Tiffany blue silk covers the furniture. Wooden doors lead directly into a bedroom with blue silk draperies and a matching coverlet. The bed is insanely beautiful; the posters and headboard are made of white marble, which is carved to resemble creeping vines.
Going to the doors on the side of the bedroom, Thea pulls them open, revealing a large array of clothing. “These just arrived for you. If you need help choosing something for dinner, you can ask Aella when she comes to dress your hair,” Thea informs me before reaching out and touching the pale fabric of a gown near the door with her elegant fingertips.
“Uh…this is…I,” I try to think of something to say, but words fail me.
“The Regent is having a small dinner party this evening. He requested that you attend. You should rest…these things are known to be quite long. Is there anything that you need before I leave you?”
Shaking my head no, I feel panic rising in me. Thea smiles, turning to go. “A communicator,” I blurt out. “Can I have one?” I hide my hands behind me because they’re shaking.
“Let me inquire and I will let you know,” she replies smoothly before leaving me alone in my new room.
I unbutton my jacket and shrug it off before sitting down on the edge of the massive bed. I stare at the closet. No one has that many clothes, I think. Bridget would freak if she were here. Bridget...Choking fear hits me in waves. Nothing is ever free. Nothing. They want something from me.