I stopped to take in a lifelike landscape and tried to place where in the seven kingdoms it was depicting. The painting on the wall depicted the forest, but unlike the Northern Woods, the trees were darker in color, their trunks more twisted.
As I was pondering the origins of the painting, and watching Lisbelle out of the corner of my eye, the door opened behind me, and King Leonel came in with Lord Dyer. I stayed in my spot by the painting while listening to the king give instructions.
“Now, tonight my daughters will retire to their room, then all of you will be locked in. You are not allowed inside any of their rooms, and they are not allowed to leave this wing under any circumstances.”
“That seems easy enough,” Lord Dyer said. He was a younger lord with sandy hair and a small, thin mustache. He rubbed his hands together as if it was a challenge.
“One would think, yes. If something happens to them, I cannot guarantee your safety. You will have to face the repercussions of your failure.”
Lord Dyer chuckled nervously. “I make sure they are protected, then come morning I will be rewarded?”
“Up to half my kingdom and one of my daughters to wed, as we agreed.” King Leonel gestured to the table in the middle of the room. Lord Dyer sat down, grabbed a set of cards, and shuffled them.
The king headed out, and I watched as he pulled out a gold key and locked us inside. I felt another tug on my skirt, and was about to reprimand Nimm, when Lisbelle appeared at my side.
“Look at the trouble you caused,” Lisbelle hissed at me. She pointed toward Lord Dyer who pulled the tea set closer to him and turned over a teacup. “I hate you,” she seethed. “You never should have been born.”
Before I could react, Lisbelle spun on her heel and headed down the hall toward what I assumed was their bedrooms.
“Which one’s mine?” I whispered to Nimm, who I had hoped was still guiding me. A tug on my skirt pulled me to a door that was halfway down the hall on the right.
I slowed and reached for the handle, but another hand grabbed it first. I could tell by the skirt it was probably Lisbelle.
“Next one down, Grace,” Lisbelle snarled irritably. “Really, I think you’re going a little mad. Oh wait . . . too late.”
“Mm,” I mumbled and followed the furiously tugging Nimm.
I waited at the next door and didn’t grab the handle until I felt his push from behind.
“All right. I get it,” I mumbled. I pulled open the gold handle and stepped into a luxurious room with sage green wallpaper and a satin four-poster bed with silk bedding. There was a fireplace that had already been stoked and was crackling softly. It wasn’t until I walked the whole room did I notice that there wasn’t a single window. Not even the outer sitting room had windows. I realized I was in an inner cell of a jail.
I sat on the bed looking around my room and felt the mattress dip as Nimm hopped onto the bed next to me.
“What now?” I whispered.
Nimm slipped out of the room. My guess was to spy on the other sisters. A few moments later, he returned and pointed to the wardrobe. I slipped off the bed and opened up the oak doors to see a deep green dress with scoop sleeves. There were matching slippers as well.
“I’m supposed to change into another dress?”
Nimm nodded. Thankfully, this one stretched, and I didn’t need someone to lace me in. There were two ties, so I could to cinch the dress closed. I made my way over to the dressing table and mirror, and tried my best to fix my hair.
Nimm hopped on the table and pulled open a drawer, handing me a comb and some unique pins that helped hold a curl in place. After a few laborious minutes, I noticed it looked half decent. I applied the face powders and a bit of tint to my cheeks and lips.
Gone was the girl who wanted to run through the woods, climb trees, and shoot arrows. In the mirror, a confident woman stared back at me. She was beautiful, even. Her dark eyes twinkled with secrets, and her hair pinned in so brown waves tumbled down her back. The dress exposed my neck and the thin red scab. I touched it, and it was still tender, so I tried to hide the brightness of the mark with powder, turning the red mark into pale pink.
It would have to do for now.
I kept running my fingers along the dressing table and was apprehensive about my hands. I curled my hands under and worried again unnecessarily as Nimm handed me a white face mask and long gloves that matched my dress.
“Where did you get this?” I asked.
Nimm pointed to a secret drawer in the dressing table. The mask covered most of my face, leaving only my lips and eyes uncovered. No wonder Grace wasn’t worried about anyone recognizing me. As long as I didn’t say anything, I would be fine.
I moved to a chair by the fire and stared into the flames. I neither had the enchanted knife that Rhea had given me, nor Rumple. As I sat in silence, I began to miss his voice and his constant chatter, even his foul language.
The fire flickered and went from a bright orange to a white for a split second. I heard the crack of a log breaking in the grate, and a piece of ember shot into the air.
Except it wasn’t an ember, but a slim strip of paper that floated in the air with its edges were still burning slightly.
I took the strip and blew the edges, recognizing familiar handwriting. I held it close to my chest, afraid to look at the words written across it.
Taking a deep breath, I pulled the slip away and focused on the flowery letters on yellowed paper.
“Don’t drink.”
Frowning, I turned it over again and looked at the backside of the paper. Blank.
When I turned it over again, the paper disintegrated in my fingertips. Nimm sat on the other chair next to me, his little legs kicking back and forth happily. He gestured to the paper with a raised eyebrow.
“It says don’t drink,” I said in a clipped tone, trying to mask my disappointment. The first message to me from my adoptive mother was one about not getting intoxicated?
“How long am I supposed to wait here?” I asked Nimm. He pointed to the lack of winding clocks and windows and shrugged.
“Just great.” I fiddled with the silk gloves and kept readjusting them on my hands, before fidgeting with the mask. It was uncomfortable and itchy, for the secrets it held seemed to make it weigh more upon my face.
I had given up all hope of any kind of adventure tonight and was about to take a nap on the bed when my bedroom door swung open silently and silence followed. I stared into the hall and could see the other princesses grabbing their cloaks and heading toward the sitting room. I grabbed mine from the wardrobe, flung it around my shoulders, pulled up the hood, and stepped into the hall behind eleven other princesses.
Lisbelle peered into the sitting room and the man had fallen asleep at the table. Lord Dyer had fallen forward, his hand of cards had scattered across the table, and he was snoring soundly.
“Idiot,” Risa chuffed as she placed a duplicate teapot on the table.
She took the previous one and dumped the contents into the nearest potted plant. From her pocket, she pulled out another teacup; this one was smaller and without a handle. Each of the sisters lined up in front of Risa as she poured a green liquid from a glass vial into the small cup and handed it to the first sister.
Princess Willa drank the contents and handed the empty cup back to Lisbelle. One by one, each sister took the offered drink and handed it back.