Light filled the room from two tall windows. Pale green curtains had been drawn back with velvet rope, their color matching the comfortable-looking sofa and the bedspread I could see through the doorway that led to the bedroom. More fresh flowers stood on a side table, and a basin of clear water sat on a large tray with a soft white cloth beside it.
I closed my eyes and let out a long, soft sigh. This was the room I should have been welcomed into—a familiar space like many I had visited in the past in other palaces. It bore little resemblance to the broom cupboard I now inhabited.
But it wasn’t the space I missed, or the little luxuries. Standing here felt like slipping back into my old self, with all its comfortable familiarities. Sneaking around palace corridors was new to me, but I knew what was expected of a girl who stayed in a room like this.
A noise in the corridor made my eyes fly open as I examined all the possible hiding places in the room, settling on the large chest that stood against one wall. But no hand rattled at the door, and I threw myself into the task of searching for the handkerchief.
I moved carefully, trying to return everything exactly how I had found it, although I chafed at the delays that necessitated. I tried to use my slow pace to consider all the possible hiding places for a small piece of material. If I was living in these rooms, where would I hide it?
But it hadn’t been slid under the mattress, buried under the two blankets in the chest, hidden in any of the pockets of the dresses in the wardrobe, or tucked away in the writing desk. I even tested for loose floorboards or stones in the wall but found nothing. When I looked through a large bag that looked vaguely familiar, I realized it was Sierra’s own luggage from our journey here. No doubt she had removed any personal items, but the dresses of a maid still filled much of it.
An angry voice sounded outside the door, and I dropped the bag. I recognized those tones although I no longer heard them every day. My plan already established, I didn’t stop to think, throwing myself across the room and scrambling into the chest. The lid closed on top of me just as the door opened.
Two people entered, one the silent listener to Sierra’s continued complaints. I suspected it was the new personal maid the Arcadians had provided, and I didn’t envy her the role for a moment despite the nice surroundings she worked in.
“That wretch pushed me into the waves on purpose. I know she did!” Sierra cried for what I could only imagine was the tenth time if she had been complaining all the way back from the beach. “She’s just jealous because I’m a princess, and she’s only the daughter of an earl. And Percy never even looks at her.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” the maid muttered, sounding resigned and weary.
“And now there’s saltwater halfway up the skirt,” Sierra continued, making me roll my eyes. By the sound of it, she’d only been touched by the waves. I could remember occasions back in my own set of kingdoms when the royal children gathered on the beaches of Trione, and Gabe, Teddy, and Jon made it their mission to completely dunk every single one of us. Even Dominic had fallen to their stratagems, although most of us were half afraid of him.
“I’ll make sure it’s washed out, Your Highness,” her maid said.
“But you won’t be able to wash that out,” Sierra said dramatically.
“Hmmm…” The maid sounded thoughtful. “The laundry staff might know a couple of tricks to try. You might be surprised.”
“It’s jam,” Sierra wailed. “And it’s red! The whole morning has been a disaster. I would have dismissed that clumsy fool of a footman on the spot if Alyssa hadn’t been watching me with those eyes.”
I stiffened, and this time the maid didn’t respond at all. Embarrassment for Eldon washed over me. It didn’t matter how many sweet, insincere words Sierra gave to Percy and the Arcadian royals if she treated the servants like this. What must they all think of my family?
When I was a child, my mother had demanded nothing but gracious words from us to servants who slipped or dropped things. She had been all too willing to trot out long lists of every youthful mistake we’d ever made if we showed even a hint of our irritation. It had been an early lesson in controlling what emotions we displayed in public. And yet it occurred to me suddenly that after so many years of practice, the appearance had become the reality. I felt only a swell of sympathy now when someone made a clumsy mistake, no matter how it affected me. Perhaps that had been the true lesson my mother was teaching?
Rage poured through me at the altogether different picture of Eldonian life that Sierra was painting for the Arcadians. But I suppressed the emotion, consumed with the desire to review the other lessons my mother had taught us growing up.
I had wondered, a little, at my relatively easy adjustment to the more physically difficult life of a goose girl, but did the credit for that belong to my mother as well? Before the curse fell on Eldon, she used to insist we take turns accompanying our father on trips up the mountain against which our palace was built. She had claimed that royals must know every part of the kingdom they ruled. But had she also wanted us to experience what it meant to walk until every muscle burned and then spend the night on a hard cave floor? Those freezing expeditions up steep mountain slopes had no obvious similarity with the life I lived now, but they had taught me to be cheerful in the face of physical hardship and not to think myself above it.
And as for the boredom of my new role, my mother had taught me plenty of tricks to combat that scourge, starting as soon as I was old enough to need to attend royal functions. I would never have guessed how the traits I had learned as a princess would help me as a goose girl. Did that mean some of the new skills I was learning now could help me when I returned to my old role again?
A picture of Alyssa formed in my mind. Undoubtedly it was so. And the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. As a princess, my role was to serve my people, and understanding their lives could only help me do that better.
“Get me out of this at once!” Sierra snapped. “And then go and check they’re serving something I like for the midday meal. I’ve had a terrible day, and they owe me that much at least.”
And that, right there—not her birth—was the reason Sierra would never be a true princess. She believed the kingdom owed her luxury and ease instead of realizing that she was the one who owed her people a lifetime of service.
I adjusted my position to stave off an oncoming cramp. I had been raised in luxury, and I now owed it to my people to use this strange situation to gain new skills and knowledge that would allow me to serve them better. I had thought I needed to prove myself by defeating Sierra and protecting my kingdom, but I had more to prove than that.
I just needed to get out of this chest first.
Fortunately, Sierra declared she would have a nap before the meal and ordered her maid to draw the blinds and close her bedroom door before leaving to check on the menu. As soon as I heard both doors close, I silently pushed up the lid of the chest. After peering out into the empty room for a moment, I climbed carefully out and eased the lid back down again.
I had made it most of the way to the corridor door when I paused. The bag I had abandoned at Sierra’s arrival still lay there where I had left it. On a whim, I snatched it up by the handles and slung it over my shoulder. She was the one who had claimed I was Sierra, her maid. No one could fault me for having my own possessions in my room. Let Sierra wonder how it had disappeared from her room and found its way to me. Already she seemed to be struggling with the role she had undertaken, and I wanted her to stay as on edge as possible.