Chapter 43

Kit knew that she was dreaming because the horse she was riding was flying. Through skies the color of the purple tulips Jecob had brought her, she glided, alongside a man with a perfectly sculpted chest whose face she could never quite see. He was just about to turn to face her, to plant a kiss on her lips, when her arm was tugged in the opposite direction, and she realized someone was calling her name.

“Princess Katrinetta! Wake up!” Avinia was saying, pulling harder each time she said her name. “Your mother is requesting your presence!”

The fact that the voice was not part of her dream finally registered, and Kit managed to open one eye. Sunlight streamed in, nearly blinding her. It had taken so long for her to fall asleep the night before, she could’ve happily rolled over and gone back to sleep. But something was wrong or else her mother would not be requesting her presence so early in the morning on a day when they had nothing scheduled at all. “My mother?” she asked, attempting to sit up but finding the pillows much too comfortable. “Whatever for?”

“Please, Katrinetta. There’s no time to explain. We must get you presentable.” It was Isla this time, and she was tugging on the other arm so that between the three of them, Kit came to sitting and then standing.

“What time is it? Why is she requesting me?” A glance at the clock told her the answer to the first question. It was only half past eight in the morning, which was far too early for her to be up unless she had a meal planned with the gentleman or her mother. She had neither.

Her ladies didn’t answer, only set about working a gown over her head, which Blankka had handed over without saying a word. The girl’s eyes were still red, and the conversations from the night before came back to Kit. Clearly, Blankka hadn’t gotten over Jecob’s harsh words.

Thinking of him brought the physician’s visits to mind, and a streak of panic hit her. If she wasn’t fully awake before, she was now. “Is it one of the Representatives?” she asked as the mint green gown was worked over her arms, and Avinia started hooking up the back as Isla straightened the skirt. “Has something happened?”

“We do not know.” Avinia’s voice was steady, but Kit detected a wave of panic just under the surface. “All we do know is that your mother has requested your presence, and the commander is here to take you.”

Kit couldn’t help but look at Blankka at the mention of Eli, though she wished she hadn’t. Blankka’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she said nothing. Kit imagined he was out in the hall waiting for her, likely pacing. “Hurry up then,” she said, wishing she’d awoken with a clearer mind.

“Your slippers, my Princess,” Blankka said, setting her white satin shoes down in front of her.

“Thank you.” She slipped her feet inside and waited for the final hook to be fastened on the back of her gown. “I’m sure my hair is a mess, but we haven’t time to do anything too fancy.”

“Let me run a brush through it at least, and we can pin it up.” Avinia grabbed the tool off of the vanity.

“No, there won’t be time for pins. Just do your best.” Kit knew a brush was the worst possible solution to taming her curls, particularly without anything to make it stay straight, and her mother hated it down, but they had no time.

Avinia brushed through the length of it a few times and then moved to grab some combs, but Kit was too quick and was already headed for the door. “She’ll be upset that your hair is down.”

“If she’s summoning me this early in the morning when she knows I was up late last night, she’ll be upset anyway,” Kit replied, already in the next room.

She pulled the door open, and the expression on Eli’s face had her wondering how bad her hair might actually look. He said nothing about her appearance, though, only, “Good morning, Princess.”

“Is it?” she asked, stepping out into the hall and pulling the door closed behind her. The two guards who stood on either side of her door did not move as she began to walk down the long hall with Eli. “Do you have any idea what has happened?” The nerves began to bubble up again, and she imagined the worst. It had to concern one of the Representatives, and it must be something awful for her mother to summon her to the throne room.

“I can’t say,” he replied, keeping his eyes down.

“You can’t say, or you don’t know?” she clarified, hurrying her pace as a thousand different scenarios ran through her head. Had someone been injured? Did someone wish to leave? Had there been a crime committed? Did her mother find out Jecob was in her room the night before and believe he had gone too far?

“I cannot say.” Eli was a little more stern with his answer that time, and she realized she wouldn’t be able to get anything out of him. Whenever he wasn’t obliged to tell her information, there was nothing she could do to pry it away from him.

She was walking as quickly as she could and wished her mother’s chambers weren’t so far away, that her legs were as long as Eli’s, or that she could ride a horse down the hallway. It seemed that, for every step she took, she got no closer to her destination. “Is there anything at all you can tell me?”

“I’m sorry, Kit. But your mother was very clear that she wanted to discuss the matter with you herself.”

“So something has happened.”

He looked at her then, out of the corner of his eye, but said no more.

Her hands were beginning to tremble as the pair grew closer to the throne room. She could see the entrance to the final hallway ahead, and she mentally went over each of the men, trying to guess who it might be assuming it had to be one of them. Unless she had done something herself. But she didn’t think that was the case.

They turned the corner, and up ahead Kit saw someone darting down the hallway. The sound of wailing met her ears, and she quickened her step to see if she could catch a glimpse of who the woman was. She was older, and though she appeared to be trying to move quickly, she was having a hard time. Her silvery hair looked familiar, and then Kit placed her. “Lita—of Noblewood.” She froze and turned to look at Eli. “It’s Jecob.”

He said nothing, but the answer was in his eyes, and Kit’s hands flew to cover her mouth. “What did he do?” Her voice was too loud, and the guards near the entrance to her mother’s chambers turned to look at her. She lowered it and stepped closer to Eli, who had also stopped and turned to her. “What did he do?”

“Kit, take some deep breaths. I can’t tell you.”

“Please, Eli. I’d rather hear it from you than from her.”

“I’m sorry, Kit.” His eyes revealed that he truly was, but she knew he wouldn’t disobey a direct order from the queen. He gently wrapped his fingers around her wrists. “Kit, listen to me. You need to get control of yourself.”

She hadn’t even realized how hysterical she had become. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and her breathing was short and raspy. She didn’t even know what Jecob had been accused of yet, but if it caused his grandmother to run down the hall crying, it had to be bad.

Eli continued in a low, steady voice. “You are royalty, Kit, soon to be the queen. Set your shoulders, gather yourself together, and walk in there like the noblewoman you are. You can be no help to anyone if you do not get your wits about you.”

He was correct, of course. Her mother couldn’t stand sniveling, crying women. It drove her mad. If Kit was to do anything at all to help Jecobian, then she would need to have her head on straight. With a deep breath, she wiggled her hand free and swiped at her tears. Eli released her other arm as well and placed his hand on her shoulder.

Drawing in deep breaths helped her calm down. That scent she associated with carefree days in the woods, or sitting in the garden, seemed to help relax her. She wished she could take another step closer and breathe him in, but she didn’t. Another memory played at the corners of her mind, but she couldn’t place it and shoved it aside. Kit had an important task ahead of her, and she couldn’t let herself get distracted now.

“Are you ready?” he asked. She nodded, and they continued their approach, though Kit wasn’t walking nearly as quickly now.

At the door, she motioned for the guards to wait a moment and turned back to her commander. “Will you wait for me?” she whispered.

“I will always wait for you, Kit.”

Something about his answer told her he wasn’t just talking about the present situation where he was simply delivering her. He gave her a small, reassuring smile, and she squared her shoulders, inhaling one more time as she motioned for the doors to open.