Page 16 of Veiled Flames
“But…” Alfryd pauses. “This union is important to our kingdom.” I sense a hint of question in Alfryd’s voice. “Father told me—” He stops himself, as if he doesn’t want to reveal some important state secret. “Rosomon is strong,” Alfryd says after a pause. “She can withstand a few beatings.”
“Your father beats her?” Tynan asks more softly.
“No, but her nurse often did—at least when she was younger. The girl does not know how to behave.” Alfryd says this as if he’s my elder and disappointed in me.
“Our mother died in childbirth,” Olifer says softly.
“I heard,” Prince Tynan says in response. “Dying is what women do best.”
Leaving the remnants of my food and drink on the stairs, I dash blindly up them, my heart pounding a thousand times a minute.
Marrying King Vyktor won’t only bring the depths of misery, it’s a death sentence. At the top of the stairs, I enter the small dining hall, the one we use for fewer than thirty guests, and also when our family eats alone—me at one end of the long table and my brothers and father at the other.
It’s empty now, thank Othrix, and lit only by moonlight. Pausing, I gather my wits, so I’ll be less reckless when I exit the room. When I do, I sneak past one servant and then move with more authority as I climb the main stairs and head toward my bedchamber.
On the way, I pass five footmen, finding all but one asleep. The one who’s awake frowns but says nothing. I am to become a Queen tomorrow. Perhaps he doesn’t dare.
Passing by Olifer’s chambers, I’m struck by an idea that could save my life.
I care about the fate of our Kingdom. I care about pleasing my father. I care very much. But surely there is a way to create this allegiance with Khotor, without sending me to my death.
Hoping the wine and dragon talk will keep my brothers occupied a while longer, I slip into Olifer’s room. His valet left two oil lamps burning and draped tomorrow’s garments over a clothes horse. Unlike me, my brothers’ nurses no longer sleep in their rooms, not since their stones dropped, whatever that means.
Quickly, I remove my robe, planning to slip into my brother’s clothes, but such formal garments, ones meant for a wedding and adorned with the royal crest of Achotia, won’t help me get far.
Taking one of the lamps, I enter Olifer’s dressing room, lined with wardrobes and cupboards containing the rest of hisclothing. Alfryd is a head taller than I am, and still growing, but Olifer and I share similar builds. He is but one or two finger-widths taller. The first three wardrobes hold garments of velvet and silk, impractical for the unknown fate I’m about to face. But in the fourth cupboard I discover several pairs of riding breeches, barely worn. Since a terrible fall, when he had but eight years, Olifer is afraid of horses.
The breeches are made of leather, so I find some linen braies and pull them up under my night dress. The undergarment has a gap at the front, likely to let a man piss without removing them. It won’t be much help to me. I pull the breeches overtop and then fumble with what seems like an overly complicated system of flaps and buttons at the front, feeling accomplished once that task is done. The breeches are too big for my waist and catch on my hips. That alone could expose my shape as female.
Mercifully, I discover laces at each side of the garment, clearly designed to adjust the waist to a smaller size.
In the wardrobe I find a leather hunting jerkin and then retrieve a simple chemise from a nearby chest. After removing my nightdress, I consider my paps. Luckily, my bosom is less ample than Nurse’s—the reason Dresser struggles so hard to push every ounce of spare flesh to the top of my corsets.
I can’t hesitate too long. Olifer could return any moment, and I don’t want to make him complicit. Quickly, I tear my night dress into a long continuous strip of fabric and use it to bind my small paps.
Satisfied, I don the loose-fitting chemise, tucking it into the breeches, and then put the jerkin over top, fastening its brass clasps. Turning toward a tall, silvered glass, I run my hands over my upper body, pleased with the result.
My long hair remains an issue. No man I know has hair extending past his shoulders, and most wear it far shorter than that.
I spot a rack of hats near the silvered glass. Quickly coiling my nighttime braid atop my head, I secure a hunting cap over it, tucking in a few loose strands that had already escaped the braid. There’s no time to fix it.
The image reflected in the silvered glass is somewhat blurred, but I’m pleased with my results. My facial features are small for a male, and my eyelashes long, but I’m certain I can pass for a boy—if not a man. If I’m careful, I can pass long enough to get far away from this castle. Once safe, I’ll find a way to help my kingdom that doesn’t involve marrying a horrible old man who’ll beat me to death.
My belly grumbles and I regret leaving the last of my bread and cheese on the stairs, but surely I’ll meet a kind stranger to feed me. My mind flashes to the stranger I met last evening. Saxon was the name I heard on the wind as I galloped away. He’s not the type of stranger I mean.
I open a cupboard containing Olifer’s footwear and nearly sing with glee when I discover an old pair of boots he’s outgrown. They are perfect for me, and I hide my robe, slippers and what’s left of my night dress at the cupboard’s back. Eventually, one of his dressers will find them. By then I’ll be gone.
At the door, I turn back. I have no coin. No weapons. I can’t rely on the kindness of strangers foreverythingI need.
In a chest sitting between Olifer’s bed and a window, I discover a rucksack and a small purse with quite a few pieces of silver andgold. As a girl, I’ve never even touched a copper of my own, never mind a coin of silver or gold.
After taking the rucksack and purse, I locate my brother’s small armory and decide to leave his sword sheathed where it is. Such a fine weapon would immediately label me as noble, if not royal, and I’m not sure whether that would pose an advantage or disadvantage as I flee. It’s better to leave my class obscured and my options open. Leaving all the swords, I gather a few daggers, stashing one in each boot and three in the very useful leather jerkin.
I step back toward the door. I regret that I’m stealing from my brother, but I’m only taking my fair share of my father’s fortunes. Plus, if I asked him, Olifer would gladly gift me these things.
Wouldn’t he?
My youngest brother is kind, too soft-hearted for his own good, and he loves me. I know this. But would Olifer support what I’m doing? It was clear Alfryd will do nothing to stop my marriage, even after what Prince Tynan revealed. And Father did nothing to stop the King’s mistreatment of me this night. I am truly alone.
