Page 36 of Legacy of Glass
“Your father’s meetings ran long.” She gestured toward a small table still laden with the remains of a hearty supper. “Lady Olivia and I have already eaten, and she has retired early for the night.”
“Again?” He bit out the word between clenched teeth.
His mother shook her head at him, her expression chiding, and he flushed as if he were once again a small boy being chastised for impatience.
“Your betrothed has a great deal to learn,” his mother said in a firm tone. “And she has dedicated herself to her studies just as she promised. She is already making excellent progress, and I am greatly pleased with her. It’s hardly surprising that she’s exhausted by the end of each day.”
“My apologies.” Julius gave another shallow bow, and his mother softened.
“You were always a dedicated student as well, my son. Don’t think I’m unaware of the sacrifices your position requires of you.”
Julius’s shoulders straightened, and she smiled at him, her eyes gleaming.
“While Olivia still has various intricacies to master, she has now covered enough of the basics that she can be trusted outside this room. Her lessons will continue at a gentler pace and without my supervision. I have given her the morning off tomorrow.” She paused, her smile growing. “I’ll inform your father that you also need to be released so you can show her around in a more informal capacity.”
Julius strode over and dropped a kiss on the top of his mother’s head.
“Thank you, Mother. If I have to attend another meeting without a break, I might lose my patience completely and disgrace the family. You always could read me best.”
“Can I?” she asked lightly, her eyes glowing.
He stepped back warily, but whatever she was supposedly reading in him now, she kept it to herself. And as he departed to find his own supper and bed, he walked with a buoyancy to his step. The next day he would finally have a chance to see his friends and discover what they thought of Olivia.
Chapter13
Olivia
Olivia woke with a feeling of relief. The bed and room no longer caught her by surprise, as they had the first morning, and she was finally going to be given some space to breathe. Her lessons didn’t start until the afternoon.
She spread out, letting herself luxuriate in the softness of the sheets and the perfect tension of the mattress. At home in Henton she had enjoyed the luxury of her own bed only because all five of her siblings were brothers. The bed itself hadn’t been near so fine. And at her aunt and uncle’s house she had been given a guest room that was pleasant in appearance but possessed an overly firm mattress and sheets that were worn thin from long use.
Sunlight streamed through the window since she had left the curtains open the night before, wanting to watch the stars as she fell asleep. Given she was on the second story of the palace, she didn’t have to worry about privacy, and she was determined to enjoy something about her new position. There had been little else to enjoy so far.
She propped herself up on her hands and surveyed the room, admiring the green velvet, gold highlights, and the repeated motif of twining vines. If she was honest, her room wasn’t quite the only positive. The food was even nicer than at her aunt’s house, and the nightgown she currently wore was the softest she had ever owned.
But she hadn’t expected the lessons from the queen to prove more exhausting—to both body and mind—than a full day’s work in her aunt’s house. Perhaps she hadn’t truly appreciated how much the Legacy helped with her chores. She certainly hadn’t realized how mentally exhausting it was to try to absorb so much new information at once. She felt as if her head was bursting.
She slipped out of bed and wandered to the window. She suspected that if she’d left the outer door of her suite unlatched, she would have woken to fresh wash water and a hot breakfast. But she had no desire for strangers to come creeping through her room while she slept. The ability to lock herself securely away from everyone and everything at the end of the day had been the only thing keeping her sane through the whirlwind of the last forty-eight hours.
Gazing across the large grounds at the back of the palace, she drew a deep breath. As overwhelming as it had all been—from endless curtsies, to the dress fittings, to the etiquette lessons, and the charts of the major noble families and important businesses of the capital—she had to admit she felt more prepared for what awaited her in the palace than she had when she rode through its gates.
Of course, she had only learned the most superficial level of correct conduct. She wouldn’t make the mistake of thinking she was ready to hold her own amidst the intrigue and social hierarchies of court. But at least she was no longer in danger of bumbling into a mistake that would reveal a shameful level of ignorance.
And the lessons would continue until she was fully confident. Eventually she would even be able to reach for the correct fork without needing to peek at her dining companions—a practice the queen had kindly assured her was more common than she might have thought.
She leaned on the windowsill, watching the distant gardeners moving through the grounds. Apparently, it was too early for the court to be out strolling the carefully laid paths. Maybe she would spend her morning outside, exploring the gardens from the ground level. She only wished she had a companion to explore it with.
Her letter to Daphne had been sent by royal express, so it should reach her soon. But would her cousin agree to come? And if she did, how long would it take her to arrive? It was no small thing to travel between kingdoms.
Olivia had written the letter out of desperation, knowing it wasn’t a small request. Being so close in age, she and Daphne had corresponded for years, despite Daphne living in Glandore. But while Daphne might live in Glandore, she was no stranger to travel, having been born in Oakden.
Like everyone except the small band of roving merchants, Daphne and Olivia were both tied to their birth kingdoms by their kingdoms’ Legacies. They could physically leave, but the Legacies would extract a price for the duration of their absence—one that varied from person to person and Legacy to Legacy. But the cost was high enough that it put most people off the idea of travel between kingdoms. Most merchant trains met at specified border locations and exchanged goods with their counterparts from the kingdom on the other side of the border.
The Legacy’s price was the reason the king and queen of Sovar never chose foreign royalty for their son’s bride, and it had kept Olivia and Daphne from spending time together in person, with a single exception. When they were seven, Daphne’s parents had brought her through Henton en route between their decade-long sojourn in Oakden and their original home in Glandore.
But their flight home—necessitated by a decade of struggling under the Legacy’s burden—had transferred that burden onto their daughter, who had been born during their years in Oakden. Even as a child, Olivia had thought that unfair. It was Daphne’s parents who had chosen to move in the first place, and they were the ones who had made the decision to move home, though Daphne paid the price.
But Daphne had taken it in her stride. Even at seven, she had been a calm, unflappable person. And fortunately, her individual burden wasn’t one of pain, merely inconvenience.
