I came alert as the door unlocked and I heard the thunk as the door hit the table.
“What the—I can’t. It’s blocked,” Gail’s voice came from the other side of the mountain of furniture.
Slipping off the bed, I moved to remove the stuffed chair from off the table when a crash followed. Someone slammed into the door and caused the wall of furniture to collapse inward. The vase shattered, the side table cracked, and the chair fell forward as the immovable force of the dragon blade crashed through my protective barrier. A pillow fell toward him, and he attacked it with a vengeance, slicing it midair multiple times, and then kicked it to the ground.
The hated bladesman stood inside, his chest heaving as he surveyed his carnage. Then the dark helm came up and stared at me accusingly. As if he couldn’t believe he cut down a pillow.
Had the dreaded blade rushed inside to save me?
“Good job defeating the bloody pillow. That was a close one. You almost died.” I clapped my hands slowly, dragging out his bizarre mistake, loving that it was the dragon blade I had humiliated.
His body language portrayed his confusion as he gazed at all the down feathers that were raining around us. Frustration followed as he spun on his heel and headed outside the door. He motioned with his hand for Gail to enter.
Gail stood outside the door, her body trembling in fear as he passed. Then she ducked her head and slipped inside, her eyes going wide as she saw the destroyed furniture.
“What did you do?” Gail’s voice was high-pitched.
“I didn’t do anything. It was the blade. He was the one killing the furniture.”
“You barricaded the door?” She stepped further in and skirted around the chair stuffing that was spread across the rug like clouds.
“Wouldn’t you, if you knew the blades were on the other side?”
“But that’s why Freya locks us all inside our rooms. For protection from them.”
“And you couldn’t have said that two nights ago?”
She shrugged. “I thought it was obvious. That’s why I warned you to stay away from them.”
I didn’t want to frighten Gail further by telling her that locked doors didn’t stop me, or whoever had entered my room. In this case, ignorance was bliss.
Gail set out clean clothes she’d brought with her, laying them out on the bed for me. They weren’t my clothes, nor a servant’s dress.
“What is this?” I asked, running my hand across the white silk wrap gown.
“It’s a dress,” Gail said. It seemed now that the blade was on the other side of a wall, her normal snarky attitude was slowly coming back.
“Yes, I see that.”
“Don’t think you’re anything special.”
I pinched my lips to hold back my laugh. Maybe her snarkiness was her way of dealing with the things she couldn’t control.
“It’s adjustable.” Gail showed me how it had a gold clasp and buckles to adjust it to fit various shapes and sizes of women. She also brought leather sandals that wrapped around my legs up my calves.
The braids had come undone, and I was about to wrap them back into a bow when Gail stopped me. “You don’t have to wear them in the servants’ knot since you’re not a servant. But then again,” she gave me a smug smile, “you never were one to begin with. Was it just a ruse to spy on the king to gain his favor?” She didn’t even try to hide the bitterness in her voice.
I undid the braids and ran my fingers through the wavy hair left in its wake. “No, you can gladly take my place.”
Her face paled, and she shook her head. “It’s your neck on the line. Not mine.” She turned and motioned for me to follow her out. “But you won’t last long. None of them will.”
I pondered her words as I stepped into the hall and heard the subtle clank of footsteps following close behind me. I spun on my heel, expecting to see the dragon bladesman from earlier, but he was gone. Scared off in embarrassment, I hoped. My new guard was the lion blade. The lion stopped inches from my face. I felt like he wasn’t as scary as most made him out to be. It was the dark armor and their silent aura that followed them wherever they went.
I stared into the dark helm, right where the bladesman's eyes would be, and that’s when I noticed something disturbing. The reason that most of the staff probably feared these bladesman—the reason they didn’t speak—they weren’t human. Where the eyes should have been was nothing but dark shadows that moved and flowed like a watery mist.
“What are you doing?” I snapped.
Gail gasped. “You shouldn’t address them. It’s forbidden to speak to any of the king’s blades.”
“That’s a dumb rule. Don’t you think so?” I turned to address the bladesman. The helm nodded.
“Can you speak?”
He shook his head, and I felt a genuine sadness come from him. Careful, Rhea, I told myself. You remember this thing isn’t good. Don’t humanize him. But as he stood there, I noticed the dropped shoulders, and it reminded me of a dog we once owned with the droopiest ears and forlorn eyes. He conveyed so much without speaking. And I felt like I wanted to reassure the bladesman.
“Well, that’s okay. I like the strong and silent type.”
The blade stilled, and then I heard the slightest jingle. I looked up in surprise as the armor was shaking. The black chain mail rattled against the armor as he laughed.
“Is he laughing?” Gail said, her eyes wide.
“Yes,” I said in disbelief. “He is.”
Gail’s face pinched. “Can you make it stop? It’s creepy.”
Immediately, the rattling ceased, and I watched as the blade straightened. His muscles tensed again, as if her insult snapped him out of whatever reverie he was in.
I sighed and shook my head. It was as if I had lost traction. I was getting closer to figuring out what these enchanted creatures were. If I could figure out what magic created them, I could destroy them. I would work for the king, and all the while plotting on how to annihilate his hands of power.
Gail ushered me into a beautiful parlor room with tall windows that covered one wall with deep red curtains. The parlor also contained a long-stuffed couch and many paintings, but none of them were portraits. They were all landscapes of the kingdom of Kiln. The walls were painted floral motifs, and the sconces were tulip shaped. There was a definite femininity in the design of the room. Was this because of King Goddrick’s late wife? Again, the lack of portraits of the royal family only added to the mystery of the king and his heirs.
Around the table were six women and one man. All were wearing similar styles of wrap dresses or wrapped pants. The only two people I recognized were Carlotta, in red, and Velora, looking morose as ever in purple, which only accented the vibrant lavender hues of her hair.
“What’s going on?” I asked Gail.
“How should I know?” Gail replied. “I only do what I’m told.”
It was becoming quite obvious that Gail disliked me.
When I came in, all eyes settled on me and I briefly met each of them: Carlotta, the woman in red; Shannon, a petite brunette; Annette, the seeker; Brenna, a blonde-haired healer; and the lone man in a fancy felt hat was a milliner named Benton. He was the one who passed out on the table.