“Of course,” says the servant. He bows to Elara again, and they both head up the stone steps that lead up to the castle’s main entrance.
“Smell that?” mutters one of the guards standing by my carriage. “Smells like dogs, don’t it?”
“Silence, Moran,” Garwyn says, glancing in my direction. “There will be none of that.” He gives him a meaningful look. Something passes between them, but I don’t understand what. Moran immediately quiets down though, and begins unloading trunks.
Garwyn pokes his head into my carriage and stares for a moment. I think he is trying to figure out if I am me or the decoy. “I believe you should also be journeying with the other girl to the princess’s chambers,” he says tactfully.
Accompanied by Garwyn, I scramble up the steps just as the servant is ushering Elara through a dim foyer lined with scarlet tapestries. He pales when he sees me and stares back and forth between Elara and me, no doubt confused by our identical cloaks and gold-threaded masks.
“I’m sure you can understand the princess’s need to travel with a security escort,” Garwyn says. “If you will show them to their room both the princess and her maid can change into proper attire.”
“Of course.” The servant leads us down several twisting corridors lined with lit sconces. Yet there are few windows, making everything seem dark and dim.
“Here we are,” he says, stopping before a door and opening it.
As we enter, I see that my new chambers are made up of three small rooms. The first is a sitting room with plush red velvet chairs and a large fireplace. The second room is a bedroom for me, and next to it is a smaller bedroom for my maid.
Before long, the Galandrian guards enter carrying trunk after trunk into the sitting room. Garwyn places several velvet boxes containing my masks on my bed. Elara specifically directs one guard to return to the carriage and fetch her satchel. Another servant comes in, lights some candles, and gets a fire going in the sitting room. She stares in awe at Elara and me, almost setting her sleeve on fire.
The trunks begin to pile up and spill out from each room, forming a haphazard maze.
“I don’t know where you expect us to put all your things,” Elara says once the guards and servants have left and we are alone.
I nod. “I didn’t expect the castle to be so small.”
Elara looks at me wide-eyed. “You think this is small? A person could easily get lost in this place.”
“Yes, of course,” I say immediately, reading her incre-dulity and remembering that we have grown up in very different places.
Elara disappears into my bedroom and closes the door behind her. I assume she has gone to change into the Masked Princess’s costume, so I untie my gold-threaded mask and sink into an armchair next to the fire.
These three small rooms may be where I spend the rest of my life. One day I may very well die in these chambers, an aged queen. And as death draws near, will I be able to say I enjoyed anything of my life here?
I try to find comfort with the thought that Elara will at least be the Masked Princess for a few weeks, and I will have time to watch the Strassburgs unnoticed.
But all the voices of my childhood come rushing back. My father declaring that the Strassburgs are not to be trusted. Lord Murcendor railing against the Kyrenicans. All the fear and loathing I have been taught to feel for the Strassburgs rises up, making my heart pound harder.
Before I let my worrying get the better of me, I rise from the armchair and open the door to my new bedroom. Elara has removed her mask, but she has not changed out of her traveling clothes and into the Masked Princess’s finery. Next to the velvet boxes, a pile of my things are laid out on the bed along with several worthings and a brown leather book I don’t recognize.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“I’m leaving.” Her voice is curt, and she begins stuffing the items into her satchel.
“Leaving? But you are not supposed to leave until it is safe.”
“We’ve arrived in Kyrenica. You’re safe and alive.” She spreads her hands wide. “Congratulations. Welcome to your new fairy tale.”
“But—”
She holds up a pair of opal earrings. “I’m taking these, all right? I doubt they mean all that much to you, but they’ll fetch me a nice price.” She stops and scrutinizes me. Her eyes stray to the velvet boxes lying on the bed, and she seems to soften slightly. “You don’t have to wear the mask just because they say you do. Tell the crown prince you refuse to be treated like a puppet.”
Puppet? At this, a spark kindles in my chest. I force myself to find the right words, to let her know she cannot join the long line of people who have presumed to tell me how to carry the weight of being the Masked Princess. Not when it turns out she is the reason I have been sent away.
“I can’t stay here,” she says before I can speak. “I know I said I would. But I can’t. All I’ll ever be to the Guardians is a threat. I have to leave now before—”
She breaks off at a sudden commotion in the castle corridor. There are muffled sounds of shouting and rushing foot-steps, followed by a loud click in the sitting room.
We glance uneasily at each other. “What was that?” Elara says and leaves the satchel on the bed. I follow her into the sitting room, but nothing seems to be amiss.
Elara turns about the room. “I know I heard something.”
I nod. I heard it too. But it did not sound like someone entering the room, it sounded more as though . . .
The strength leaves my legs, and I fall into an armchair. “They have locked us in.”
“Locked us in?” She hurries to the door, and finding that it is indeed locked, calls out, “What is the meaning of this? Why is the door locked?’
“The commander of the Kyrenican guard has ordered your room to remain locked for the time being,” says an unfamiliar voice though the door.
“That makes no sense,” Elara calls out. “I demand an explanation. You can’t lock me in here without my consent.” She turns to me and lowers her voice. “Can they?”
“King Ezebo can do whatever he pleases,” I say, staring into the fire. “He could execute me if he wished it, and no one could stop him.”
“He doesn’t want you dead,” she says dispassionately. “He wants to put you on display for all the world to see.”
“What a comforting thought,” I whisper. Yet is this not my nightmare, come to life? That the crown prince would decide it was better if he locked me away?
Elara turns back to me. “Check your room. See if you can find a key to the door.”
I return to the bedroom and search the drawers of a small writing desk. When I don’t find a key, I sit on the bed and look around the room. The walls of my new life seem to be closing in around me already. When they unlock the door, what will become of me?
Elara appears in the doorway. “Did you find a key?”
When I do not answer she rolls her eyes and rifles through the drawers of the writing desk. After she finishes she goes to the maid’s room to continue her search.
I cannot help but think of my great-great-grandmother, Queen Rowan. She was once a prisoner in this castle as well. When she learned the Kyrenicans had decided to execute her, was she in this very same room?
My eyes fix on a tiny smudge on the wall across from the bed. The smudge seems to shine when it catches the light, and I remember that the same family who built the Opal Palace—my family—also built this castle. So many underground tunnels connect the Opal Palace to different locations in Allegria. Would my ancestors have insisted on a similar construction for what was once their seaside estate?
Because Queen Rowan the Brave didn’t die in this castle. When the executioner came for her in the morning, she was gone.