The Faintest Ink (Watty Winner 2015)

Chapter Fourteen

Lady Fae found the Princess sitting on her bed, flicking through a bestiary. It had been presented by the ambassador of Pryvia on the Princess' tenth birthday. A ridiculously extravagant gift for such a young child. Lady Fae had ordered that it remain in the school room, but had been forced to relent after being subjected to the daily tantrums of a princess denied her favourite toy.

She curtsied, waiting to be acknowledged before stepping forward.

"Do you think dragons exist?" said the Princess, turning the book around so that Lady Fae could see the illustration. It was a huge beast, the wings touching the corners of the page, its claws ripping into the small line of text which lurked below it. The scales were a glossy red, picked out with real gold so that it shone as the light hit it.

"They must have done once, your highness," said Lady Fae. "There are many examples of the Rose Dragon in Serradorian art. Your own ancestor took it as his personal device."

"Yes, yes," said the Princess, flicking through the pages. "And his great-grandson had him eating the fallen lion after the Battle of Tanworth Bridge. I know all this. But no one's seen a lion in a thousand years either, so I'm not sure that proves anything."

"An interesting argument, your highness. Perhaps if you'd care to come to the classroom we could debate it further."

The Princess slammed the book shut and set it aside. "I had to send Jain away. She was a traitor."

Lady Fae paused. She'd never been much of a admirer of the beautiful Lady Jain, but she would never have thought her a traitor. The woman was far too stupid for that. Lady Fae had originally approved of the Chancellor's choice to send the eldest Wickerstone daughter to serve as the Princess' lady's maid. The fourteen-year old was a simple girl, forever daydreaming, but with six younger sisters she was no stranger to the demands of a small child.

She had clearly underestimated Lady Jain Wallia.

"I see. Well, no doubt the Masters will do as they see fit." said Lady Fae. "In the meantime, am I to take it that these events are somehow connected to the fact that you are now an hour late for your lessons?"

"I thought it inappropriate to attend in my nightgown."

Lady Fae put her hands together and stared up at the ceiling, counting silently to ten. "You could have called a maid to assist you."

"I suppose I could." The Princess placed her hands on her knees and sent an challenging gaze in the governess' direction.

Without bothering to say another word Lady Fae strode over to the bell and pulled it, waiting in silence for a servant to come running.

"Please fetch a gown for her highness," she said.

The maid froze, her forehead descending into wrinkles. "Which one, m'lady?"

Lady Fae sighed. She had no patience for fashion, and had all her gowns made to the same design in varying shades of grey and blue, as was suitable for a governess. "The yellow," she said, picking a colour at random. The Princess had enough dresses to clothe a small city, there was bound to be a yellow one amongst them.

The Princess sat up in bed alarmed. She crawled over to the foot of the bed, her face the picture of distress. "Not the yellow. The pink silk, with the lace cuffs and velvet trim."

"Yes, your highness," said the maid with an abrupt curtsey before darting out.

It took half an hour and three further maids to bring the Princess her gown and linens. They stood in their matching white caps, with the various layers of clothing draped over their arms, like a line of regimented sheep. The Princess scooted out of bed and stretched, before moving over to the huge mirror and holding her arms up over her head.

Their eyes locked in the reflection and it was only when the Princess raised a questioning eyebrow that Lady Fae realised the girl was waiting to be undressed. The governess comforted herself with the thought that partaking in the future Queen's toilette was an honour that few ladies, even those of great rank, would be able to experience. She pulled the royal nightdress up over the Princess' head laid it carefully on her bed, letting her fingers linger touch too long on the soft fabric.

Behind her the Princess cleared her throat and Lady Fae hurried off to the first maid and grabbed the slip. The Princess dipped her head and dived into the proffered undergarment with the practised air of someone who had always been dressed by attendants. Lady Fae had to struggle to keep up.

"I don't know why you bother," she said half an hour later, as she worked her fingers along the row of laces at the back of the Princess' corset. It was tiny, cutting in dramatically at the waist, to give the effect that the wearer might break in half at any moment. Lady Fae pursed her lips as she pulled them tight. No doubt it was in the style currently favoured by the ladies at court, but it was hardly the most practical wear for a growing girl out in the countryside. "No one sees you out here."

The Princess twisted around to examine her reflection, running her hands over her newly diminished waist. "I see me," she said, before nodding her head to indicate she was ready for the petticoats.

Lady Fae bent down, holding open the waist for the girl to step into. Her back creaked with the effort. "When you're Queen, you won't have time for all this," she said, staggering to her feet and taking a deep breath before tying the waist shut.

The Princess laughed. "Duenna, I know you believe we should all walk around in matching grey uniforms so that our minds are free to dwell on more important things, but I think my people will enjoy having a beautiful Queen." One maids placed the vast skirts into Lady Fae's arms and she almost staggered under the weight of them. "I heard the Queen Mother of Pryvia wears only new gowns when greeting foreign dignitaries, as a mark of respect. I think I shall do that too."

Lady Fae was beginning to regret telling her about the Pryvian Queen Mother.

"I'm just saying, there is more to being a Queen than looking like one."

"And I dare-say you'll be by my side when the time comes to tell me all about them." The Princess turned around so that Lady Fae could do up the lacing on the back of her gown. "Anyway, it's time I was at court. Father is bound to send for me soon. He said it's time to start considering my marriage in his last letter, and I intend to have my pick of husbands. I won't have Pryvia or even Falmagne thinking they'd be getting a provincial maid for their wife."

"They can hardly call the Crown Princess of Serrador a provincial."

The Princess gave her a pitying look. "Not when they see me they can't." She checked her reflection again, ruffling the fabric of her skirts until she was satisfied. "Yes? What is it?" she said when a knock sounded at the door.

"There's a rider waiting downstairs for you," said one of the Steward's men. He blushed when the Princess looked at him, and lowered his eyes, his feet squirming at the undue attention they were receiving.

"Well, take the message then," snapped Lady Fae. At this rate night would fall before she ever got the Princess to her studies.

"He says he won't leave till he's seen her highness," he said, the blush reddening.

"Very well," said the Princess, nodding at her reflection. "Tell him I'll be down presently. You may all leave now."

The maids curtsied and scuttled back out. Lady Fae made to follow them.

"Not you, Lady Fae," said the Princess, moving over to her dressing table. She picked up a tortoiseshell comb and handed it over. "I know I can't expect miracles from you, but try not to make me look like an old maid."

Lady Fae took the comb in her awkward fingers, and started running it through the Princess' thick locks of chestnut-brown hair.

The Princess tipped her head back, clearly luxuriating in the attention. She closed her eyes and smiled. "After all, I may be about to receive my very first proposal," she said, sighing contentedly.