"Why is he looking at me that way?" Viviana wondered, a flicker of unease threading through her composure. She recognized that feeling instantly. She had lived among enough killers to know the difference between curiosity, assessment and intrigue. And Prince Dominic's gaze wasn't any of them. It was disdain.
"It's a complication I hadn't anticipated,"she thought. "Most men are either indifferent to a lady-in-waiting or, if they possess a certain vanity, intrigued by a new face. This… this is different. Actively hostile."
After the Queen Regent had made her pronouncements, Matron Helga stepped forward with a stiff curtsy. "This way, Your Highness, Lady Viviana," she instructed, her voice devoid of warmth, purely efficient. "I shall escort you to your chambers in the West Wing."
As they followed the matron down another series of long, echoing corridors, flanked by more stoic guards and unsettling ancestral portraits, Lilliana let out a shaky sigh of relief. The oppressive atmosphere of the throne room seemed to lift slightly with each step they took away from it.
"Oh, thank goodness that's over!" Lilliana whispered, her voice still a little breathless. "That went much better than I imagined. I didn't faint, or trip over my own feet, or say anything dreadfully stupid!"
Viviana offered a soft, reassuring nod, though her mind was still replaying the Prince's unnerving stare. "You handled yourself with admirable grace, Lily. Your father would have been proud."
"But he didn't even look at me, Vi," Lilliana lamented in a disappointed undertone, her brief moment of relief fading. "Not properly, anyway. He barely said a word. He just… sat there. Like a carved stone eagle, all fierce and unblinking."
Viviana kept her gaze fixed ahead, on Matron Helga's rigid back. "He is a Crown Prince, Lily, soon to be King of a powerful, and somewhat grim, nation. He's likely been trained since birth to conceal his thoughts and feelings, especially in a formal court setting. Don't read too much into his reserve just yet." Though Viviana herself was reading a great deal into the look he had directed towards her.
As they walked, Matron Helga provided a clipped, concise tour of the section of the palace they were traversing. "To your left, Your Highness, is the Gallery of Queens, housing the portraits of Eldoria's past royal Queen consorts.
Further down, you will find the entrance to the private Chapel of Saint Michael, should you require spiritual solace. The West Wing Library is at the end of this particular passage." Her voice was rather dull, reciting facts rather than offering a warm welcome.
She then paused before a less fancy, though still imposing, archway. "Your Highness, Lady Viviana, please be advised of some pertinent household regulations during your stay," she began, her tone leaving no room for misunderstanding.
"The West Wing has been allocated for your comfort and that of your retinue. Movement beyond this wing into the central or East Wing of the palace, particularly near the Crown Prince's private chambers or Her Majesty's apartments, is strictly restricted without express permission from either myself or the Captain of the Royal Guard, and you would, of course, require an appropriate escort."
Lilliana's eyes widened slightly. Viviana caught the subtle flicker of dismay but kept her own expression carefully neutral.
Matron Helga continued, oblivious or indifferent. "Meals, unless you are specifically summoned to dine with Her Majesty or His Highness, will be served in your private dining parlor, which adjoins your main receiving room here in the West Wing. The culinary staff have been provided with a list of Tobit's preferred delicacies, though Eldorian cuisine is robust and, I trust, will meet with your approval."
"Furthermore," she went on, "a curfew for any visiting guests in your chambers – should you choose to receive any from the Eldorian court who are granted permission – is at the ninth bell of the evening. The palace staff assigned to your wing, save for the rostered night guard for your corridor, will retire at that juncture. Any requests or needs you may have should be directed through me. You will find a summons cord beside your bed. One pull will alert a page, who will then notify me directly. Please refrain from issuing direct instructions to the general palace staff. This system maintains order and efficiency."
She gestured vaguely towards a distant courtyard visible through a tall window. "The formal gardens directly accessible from the West Wing terrace are at your disposal for constitutionals. The Royal Rose Garden and the infamous Griffin Maze, however, are considered private domains of the royal family and require specific permission from Her Majesty for entry."
Lilliana managed a weak smile. "Thank you, Matron Helga. The rules seem very… clear."
Viviana nodded slightly. She made mental notes of everything—where they were going, what side of the palace they were in, the number of guards they passed.
Finally, they reached a section of the corridor with two grand, polished oak doors set closely together. Matron Helga stopped. "These are your chambers, Your Highness," she said, indicating the larger, more ornate door. "And yours, Lady Viviana, are adjoined through this internal connecting door, for ease of access to Her Highness."
She opened Lilliana's door first. The room was undeniably magnificent, though in a style quite different from Lilliana's airy, sun-filled rooms in Tobit. It was spacious and grand, decorated in darker, richer colors – deep crimsons and forest greens. A massive four-poster bed, draped with heavy velvet curtains the color of blood, stood as the room's centerpiece. A large stone fireplace, already laid with logs but not yet lit, promised warmth against the cool Eldorian nights. A polished mahogany writing desk stood near one of the tall, arched windows, which overlooked a different, more somber part of the palace grounds. A comfortable-looking chaise lounge upholstered in deep green brocade was artfully placed near a bookshelf.
Matron Helga then introduced two young maids who curtsied deeply. "Elara and Lyra will attend to anything Her Highness needs. And Myrna," she indicated a third, slightly older maid, "will see to your requirements, Lady Viviana. They are at your disposal for assistance with dressing, bathing, and the general upkeep and tidiness of your chambers."
Her duty done, Matron Helga offered a final, stiff curtsy. "If you require anything further, as I previously stated, please utilize the summons cord. I trust you will find everything to your satisfaction. Dinner will be announced at the seventh bell in your private parlor." With that, she turned and departed, her footsteps receding down the corridor.
As the heavy door clicked shut, Lilliana let out an explosive gasp, her earlier nervousness momentarily forgotten as she spun around, taking in her new surroundings. "Well!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide. "Eldoria certainly has… taste! I must admit, Vi, this is even fancier, in a rather gloomy way, than my own room back home! And look at this bed! It's enormous!"
She promptly launched herself onto the vast mattress, bouncing with a delighted shriek. "Ahhh, yes! Perfect! It's like a cloud!" She purred, rolling over onto her back and stretching like a contented cat. "Nothing like a good, bouncy, soft bed to cure the unholy agonies of a thousand-league carriage ride, right Vi?"
For the first time since entering the Eldorian palace, a genuine, warm smile touched Viviana's lips. The sight of Lilliana, so easily finding joy even in this somewhat intimidating place, was a balm.
"It does look remarkably comfortable," Viviana conceded. "But I suspect Her Majesty expects you to appear at dinner looking less like you've wrestled a feather pheasant and more like a princess. You need to get changed out of that restrictive gown." She walked over and gently tugged Lilliana up from the bed. "Come now, let's get you out of that corset before you permanently mould yourself into an hourglass shape."
Lilliana groaned dramatically. "The instrument of torture! Must I endure it even when not in public?"
Viviana chuckled softly as she began to work on the lacing at the back of Lilliana's formal court gown. As the tension on the corset loosened, Lilliana started chattering, her earlier anxieties momentarily forgotten. "Vi, did you see his cousin, Lord Theodore? Now that is the kind of man a girl could fancy! So charming, and handsome in a friendly way, not a scary way, and gentle, and he smiled like he actually meant it!" She giggled, a light, carefree sound. "If only he were the prince…"
Viviana's fingers paused for a moment on the laces. "Lily," she said, her voice gentle but firm, "have you already forgotten you are here to marry the Crown Prince of Eldoria? Please be mindful of what you say, even in the supposed privacy of your own chambers. Walls in palaces like this often have ears, or at least very attentive servants. People twists words easily in courts like this and we wouldn't want anyone to get the wrong impression of your affections before you've even had a chance to know your future husband."
Lilliana sobered slightly, sighing. "You're right, you're always right, Vi. It's just… it's all a bit much. But still," she added with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, "a girl can dream of charming smiles, can't she?"
She then shifted topics, her voice dropping a little. "I heard something about Prince Dominic's scar, you know. Old Lady Griselda from court – the one with all the cats – her niece is married to a minor Eldorian diplomat, and she told Aunt Griselda that the Prince got it during an awful assassination attempt on his father, the late King Valerius, when he was just a boy, maybe seven or eight. The King died, and they say the assassins set fire to the royal nursery to ensure no heirs survived. Miraculously, Dominic was saved by a loyal guardsman who died protecting him, but the fire… it scarred that little part of his face."
Viviana remained silent, her expression unreadable as she finished with the laces and helped Lilliana step out of the heavy gown. "Assassination. Fire. He survived," she thought. "Then executing my family without proper investigation.
She carefully removed Lilliana's gloves and then began to gently undo her elaborate court hairstyle, letting the long, golden blonde hair cascade down her back. Viviana had already quietly instructed the assigned maids, Elara and Lyra, to prepare a warm, scented bath in Lilliana's en-suite bathing chamber, a spacious room tiled in an unfamiliar dark green marble.
Lilliana, now clad only in her fine linen chemise, padded towards the steam rising invitingly from the bathing chamber. "Mmm, that looks and smells divine," she murmured, peering in. "My back is positively aching from all those curtsies and the endless carriage ride. Would you care to join me, Vi? Like old times?"
Viviana hesitated, a familiar weariness settling over her. "Lily, we are no longer carefree in Tobit, sneaking into each other's tubs to share secrets and splash about. This is Eldoria. There are… protocols to observe, even with assigned staff."
Lilliana turned, her lower lip jutting out in an exaggerated pout, her eyes welling up with mock tears, a performance she had perfected over years to melt her family's and Viviana's resolve. "Vi… please?" she wheedled, her voice trembling pathetically. "Just this once? For my first night in this gloomy castle? I feel so… small and alone here already. And my shoulders are so stiff."
Viviana let out a tired sigh, though a small, fond smile played on her lips. This was a battle she rarely won. "Oh, alright," she conceded. "Only for today, then."
Lilliana was instantly elated, her mock sadness vanishing. "Yay! You're the best, Vi!"
Viviana quickly shed her own formal attire, unpinned her dark hair, and, after ensuring the maids were occupied with unpacking in the main chamber, slipped into the large, sunken marble bath with Lilliana. The warm water was scented with pine and some unfamiliar mountain herb, surprisingly refreshing. Viviana gently washing Lilliana's long hair eliciting a soft giggle from Lilliana.
Later, scrubbed clean and more relaxed, Viviana helped Lilliana dry off and dress in a comfortable but still elegant lounging robe of soft, deep blue silk. Both were now more at ease, their hair loosely bound or, in Lilliana's case, falling freely in damp waves. Viviana was gently brushing Lilliana's hair, preparing to style it simply for the evening, when a polite, firm knock came on the main chamber door.
"Come in," Lilliana called, her voice much cheerier than it had been earlier.
One of the assigned maids, Elara, entered, curtsied deeply. "Your Highness, Lady Viviana," she announced, her face impassive. "Her Majesty, the Queen Regent, has commanded me to inform you that a welcome banquet will be held in your honor this evening in the Grand Hall. It is to commence at the eighth bell. She requests your presence and trusts you will be sufficiently rested from your journey."
Lilliana and Viviana exchanged a look. The brief, peaceful respite was officially over. "Thank you," Lilliana said. The maid bowed and left.