Page 32 of Her Dark Reflection

I wrapped my arms around myself as I tried to retain my composure as my heart sank. ‘I don’t want a footman touching my things. If I’m to be sent away, I’ll pack my own belongings, thank you.’ Vanaria must have done as she had threatened. How much did they suspect based on her information? Had they searched my room, found the mirror? Was I to be dragged to the dungeons to await trial? I wouldn’t let it happen like that. I would find a way out of this. And I would make Vanaria pay.

The maid blinked rapidly, then bobbed down. ‘As you please. If you’ll follow me, I’ll escort you to your new rooms.’

‘My new rooms?’

‘Yes, ma’am. The king has requested you be transferred from the servant’s quarters at once.’

The relief that washed through me was bright and sweet and I just about floated after this wonderful, wonderful maid.My new rooms.

I followed her from the infirmary and into the labyrinth of halls that was the rest of the palace, trying to keep track of specific marble busts and tapestries and courtyards so I could find the way myself, but they quickly became tangled in my mind. She led me up several flights of stairs and down a narrow corridor on one of the upper levels of the palace, where she began to sort through her keys as we walked.

‘Here we are,’ she said finally as she stopped to open a door. She stood aside to allow me to enter, and I stared at the finery around me in delight. I was standing in a light, airy receiving room with a huge window overlooking a central courtyard. The furnishings were all in a pale green fabric patterned with foxes and phoenixes, trimmed with gold tassels and filigree. I breezed through the room, wandering through the connecting rooms with my mouth slightly open. There was a dining room, a wardrobe, a room housing an enormous tub and dressing table, a water closet, and a bedchamber dominated by a mahogany four-poster bed. Every room embraced the view of the courtyard with large windows welcoming in a flood of sunlight.

‘Through here are the apartments of your personal maid,’ the housemaid said, opening a door in a small antechamber leading from the bedchamber. She took a deep breath and seemed to steel herself. ‘Ma’am, if I may be so bold as to ask, do you have your own maid?’

‘You certainly are bold. What is your name?’ I asked, contemplating her. She had so far been respectful, polite, and she didn’t look as though she was setting out to disparage me with the question. If she was disturbed by my occupation, she wasn’t making it obvious. Her eyes were bright and intelligent.

‘Leela, ma’am. Leela Ogerton. And I would like to apply for the position.’

I laughed, charmed by her daring. ‘Have you ever worked as a lady’s maid, Leela?’

‘No, ma’am. But I have been training in the arts of hair and beauty, and I am a skilled seamstress. And if you don’t mind me saying so, ma’am,’ she lowered her voice, and her expression took on an eagerness, ‘I can help you. I could do much with that beauty. I could make you intimidating. You’ll need that to survive the court.’

The servants in the employ of the aristocracy were expected to be demure, obedient, subservient. Leela’s brazen words would be enough to deter any noble lady from employing her. But whatever my father’s origins, I was no noble lady.

‘Let’s be frank then, Leela. I’m moving into this apartment at the king’s request. Do you know why?’

She nodded solemnly.

‘And you think you could work for such a mistress?’ I watched her carefully.

She seemed to consider her words for a moment. ‘A mistress who’s found a way to climb to such standing would be one I’d be proud to serve, ma’am,’ she said. ‘I’ve a drive to make my way in the world. I think it not much different.’

Satisfied with the answer, I offered her a smile. ‘Bring me your references and I’ll see about giving you a trial.’

‘Thank you, ma’am,’ she said with a bob of a curtsey before leaving me to explore the rooms alone.

My own lady’s maid. What a strange idea. But I was certain that these rooms would come with an allowance that would permit me to hire on staff, and my own maid would be vital as I began to establish myself at court. A grin began to bloom in my stomach and then to climb across my face. With a squeal of glee, I ran across the room and launched myself onto the bed. It caught me with arms of downy-soft coverings, and I stretched out, pleased to find that my fingers didn’t reach the edge no matter how I arched my back.

I had done it. The king was mine.

Draven’s words came unbidden to douse my joy.Love won’t make you queen. I dismissed them. He wasn’t going to ruin this moment for me, especially while he wasn’t even in the room to frown at me. I’d climbed higher than I had ever expected I would, even before the attack.

Even just thinking the wordattackbrought a cluster of fractured memories charging into the room, and I sat up with a scowl. I wanted to celebrate, not to think about all things miserable. I’d swipe a bottle of something cheerful from somewhere and show my new rooms to Senafae.

‘Quick, gather yourself and get ready to come with me. I have the most remarkable thing to show you.’ I flew into the room, feeling as weightless and luminous as sunlight.

Senafae didn’t turn to look at me as she sat on her bed, staring at the wall.

‘You’re going to shriek when you see what His Majesty has given me. It seems that almost dying has its advantages.’ I yanked the trunk from beneath my bed, opened it and began sweeping my belongings into it with little care for arrangement. I pulled the drawers from the side table and upended them, sending debris clattering into the bottom of the trunk, before flinging open the doors on the wardrobe and wrapping my arms around several gowns, lifting them from the hanging rod and dumping them on the bed, where I easily slipped them over the top of the mirror as I pulled it out from its hiding place, and carried the whole lot into the trunk without Senafae seeing anything out of the ordinary. If the gowns were creased or damaged from my careless handling, it hardly mattered. I would have new clothes made by the finest dressmakers in the city. Clothes fit for the king’s official mistress.

Clothes fit for a future queen.

My efforts at concealment seemed to have been pointless, however; Senafae hadn’t reacted at all to my excited chatter, or even to my sudden decision to pack up my belongings. She sat exactly as I’d found her, staring at the wall as though she hadn’t even noticed that I’d entered the room.

‘I’m moving into my own suite, Sen. Here, in the palace.’

Still no response. I stood, dusted off my skirt and approached her. ‘Senafae?’ I touched her shoulder. ‘Is something wrong?’

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