Page 14 of Betraying Korth

“Servants are allowed to quit?” I asked in astonishment. If only the castle servants in Ebora had such freedom.

“Of course. Employment is voluntary, not mandatory.”

I chewed on my tongue, digesting his use of the wordemployment. “You pay all of your servants?”

Korth’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Naturally. Do…do you not?”

“Not always,” I noted, surprised by the look of shock on Korth’s face. “Many work in exchange for housing and food and nothing more.”

His arm tightened under my arm once more. “I must voice my strongest objection to such laws. That will never be allowed here and I cannot condone such behavior. If you expect such treatment of the servants here, I would hesitate to move forward with?—”

“I’m working to get that changed,” I told him quickly. It was more truthful than Korth could ever know. “My father has a few reservations, but I feel like it would be best for the people.”

Korth’s chin stayed perfectly parallel to the ground, a model of rigidity once more. His brows stayed knotted. Panic fluttered in my stomach. If Odette had come as planned, it very well may have been that Korth would have broken their betrothal and sent her packing. But I couldn’t allow that to happen, not now. We needed his army.

“You know,” I said with a winning smile, “this was one of the reasons I was so eager for our union; I wish to adopt more of your practices in our kingdom.”

“Oh.” Korth cleared his throat and fell silent. I couldn’t tell if he was struggling to find words or was done with the topic. “I see.”

“My turn to ask you a question.”

For the rest of the walk, I did my best to get Korth to open up to me, but with little success.

CHAPTER 8

Following the walk with Korth, there was a long list of duties I had to tend to in order for my fellow rebels to get comfortably settled. Korth, determined to tend to my every need, led me throughout the estate as I checked on the accommodations and sent a missive to ensure that theFaladawas properly docked and all cargo unloaded. Right before the evening meal, I received word that Garrik and his two “children” had been settled at the gooseherd’s cottage. As much as I wanted to dash down to check on Odette, I restrained myself. The rebellion would only be successful if each member did their part. My part was charming Korth, not babysitting a spoiled princess.

The evening meal was held in a large banquet hall, and so many people introduced themselves to me that I knew I’d never keep them all straight. Most looked very similar to Korth: exceptionally tall with dark hair and tanned skin, though a few had lighter hair and fairer complexions but bore a strong family resemblance nonetheless. The only people I committed to memory were Korth’s parents, Queen Serena and King Orion, who were both gracious and welcoming.

One of Korth’s cousins was a blond man about my age who was every bit as animated and talkative as Tess but was especially noticeable because he signed with his hands as he talked, and I felt mesmerized by it. A tall, visibly muscular girl who didn’t speak all evening would occasionally sign back to him, and she was accompanied by an enormous man with olive skin and shoulder-length black hair who also signed. I kept pulling my attention away from them, determined not to rudely stare at any of Korth’s family members.

Conversation went on for what felt like hours. I felt the way Korth must have during our turn around the lake as I pumped him for information, trying to put him at ease. His family asked me endless questions about Ebora, my voyage here, my interests and hobbies, my family, and so many other things that I barely managed to eat anything. My fingers slowly crumpled my napkin in my lap as I tried to blot away the perspiration beading out of my palms.

“Treva says we should let Odette rest,” the blond cousin finally said, nodding at the tall young woman who hadn’t spoken a word all meal. “And that not everyone likes talking as much as our family, especially since she only arrived this morning.”

“Of course; you must be exhausted. We’ve simply been so eager to meet you,” Queen Serena said, signaling for the wait staff to clear the dishes. “We’ll let you retire.”

I threw a glance Treva’s way, and her eyes flicked down to where my hand had crumpled my napkin. I hastily released it, surprised that she had picked up on such a tiny visual cue when I had been doing my best to hide my nervousness, but I couldn’t help but be grateful. The knot in my stomach had grown all evening as I did my utmost to answer questions as a princess would, while bearing in mind everything I’d written in the letters over the years and still trying to remain charming.

The weight of the day settled over me as Korth escorted me back, and I felt fatigued in every way possible. No day had ever lasted so long, not even when Odette had me pick out each of her mistakes from the last month’s worth of sewing. Everything had been carried out exactly as planned—I had been accepted without question—but the constant anxiety of making a mistake was heavy on my mind, and my muscles tensed up my back all the way through my neck.

“Good night,” Korth stated, bowing stiffly over my hand.

“Good night.” I couldn’t even work up the energy to wonder what he thought about me.

Gerta helped me out of my gown, then as I pulled pins from my hair, she crossed to a set of cabinet doors I hadn’t had time to examine yet. When she opened them, there wasn’t shelving or a rod to hang dresses on as I’d expected. Instead, a dumbwaiter four times the size of what we had in Ebora was there, large enough for two men to comfortably sit in. I paused in unpinning my hair as Gerta placed my garments from the day on it and tugged on a moss-green cord. Somewhere far below, a bell clanged. Gerta withdrew her head and as she closed the cabinet doors again, I caught a glimpse of the platform lowering noiselessly, a vast difference from the grinding gears that always accompanied the dumbwaiter in Ebora.

“That’s an impressive mechanism,” I commented as I placed the final hairpin on the table. “The ones back home were much smaller and noisier. How does it work?”

“It’s a fairly recent addition,” Gerta said, coming over to brush my hair. “But the explanation of its operation is rather tedious; I’m sure you wouldn’t want?—”

“I’m very interested,” I assured her. “What’s transported in there besides laundry?”

“All sorts of things. Just last week when we were furnishing this room to prepare for your arrival, the men used it to bringup chairs and bedding. It’s much faster than climbing all those stairs. It can even be operated from the inside.”

“Can it?” I asked curiously.

Gerta, deciding that I was sincerely interested, nodded eagerly. “No more page boys blocking the way trying to navigate around the winding steps while carrying tables. There is a much larger dumbwaiter in the west wing for transporting the large furniture. This one connects all the rooms for the royal family’s laundry and smaller loads to be delivered to the bedrooms and such.”

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