Page 36 of The Queen's Crown
“His Majesty gave me very specific instructions,” Claire said. “I’m to make sure you’re dressedappropriately.”
Sabine glanced over at her lady’s maid. “Which means I’m supposed to wear an outfit from the dressing closet?”
Claire bit her bottom lip.
“What?” Sabine asked.
“The king wishes for me to pick out your outfit and do your hair.”
“I would love to have your help,” she forced herself to say. Never in her life had a lady’s maid picked out her clothing. However, she was in a foreign land and needed to assimilate. To get information on her sister’s killer, she needed to play by their rules.
Claire’s shoulders relaxed as she headed to Sabine’s closet, exiting a few minutes later with three outfits. “I need to see these colors with your hair and skin tone.” She held up each one to Sabine. “This is the one.” She placed the pale yellow one on the bed and then returned to the closet.
Sabine removed her bedclothes and pulled on the outfit. “Are you sure about this?” she asked, looking down at herself. The fabric tied behind her neck, going straight down over her breasts, leaving her entire back exposed. It flowed to the floor and had two long slits in front of each leg, going up to her thighs. “I feel naked.”
Claire stood back and examined her. “Hang on.” She went to the closet and returned a moment later, tying a piece of braided fabric around Sabine’s waist, letting the ends hang down off to the side. “You look perfect. This style is very fashionable right now.”
At least the outfit was comfortable and light so she wouldn’t sweat.
“Now for the shoes.”
Sabine wouldn’t call them shoes. They had a flat piece for the bottom and then leather straps that tied around her ankles. Regardless, she didn’t say anything as she put them on, trying to be amiable.
“If you’ll sit at the vanity table, I’ll do the finishing touches.”
Sabine felt like a doll as she sat, allowing Claire to make her presentable. Claire brushed out Sabine’s hair, leaving it down which she appreciated since her back was exposed. Claire then applied some dusting powder to Sabine’s face. Once finished, Claire handed her a handful of gold bracelets, matching earrings, and a simple necklace.
As Sabine put the jewelry on, a wave of sadness hit her. She used to do this sort of thing with her sister.
“Is something the matter?” Claire asked.
Taking a deep breath, Sabine realized she had an opportunity here that she couldn’t pass up. She looked at her lady’s maid in the mirror. “You remind me of my sister,” she whispered. “She used to love helping me get ready for a party or a ball.” She glanced away and twisted the bracelet around her wrist. “You mentioned you have sisters.”
“Two,” Claire answered. “Heather and Sarah.”
Not wanting to push too hard and scare Claire off, Sabine stood. At least she had two names now. That was more than she had before. And she could start inquiring about Heather and Sarah who worked here in the palace.
She reached out and took hold of Claire’s hand, squeezing it. “Thank you for your help. I appreciate your kindness. It means a lot to me.” She released her. “You’re certain I look okay?” The makeup seemed too dark and heavy. However, if this was the way people in Lynk wore it, then she would too.
“You look like our future queen—and that is the point.”
The wordqueengave her goosebumps. When she heard that word, she thought of her mother, not herself. This entire situation still felt surreal to her. And right now, she was about to face the king of Lynk. Hopefully, by looking the part as the future queen, King Rainer would be more amiable toward her. She needed to have a decent rapport with him to glean what information she could about her sister’s murder.
“Where am I meeting the king for breakfast?” Her hands started to become sweaty, a nasty product of being nervous.
“I’ll escort you there.”
The two of them exited the bedchamber.
Out in the hallway, Markis’s eyes widened at the sight of Sabine, and the tiny bit of skin visible around his eyes turned a deep shade of red. While she understood this was not an appropriate outfit in Bakley—if her brothers saw her like this, they’d cover her with their jackets and probably pull a sword on the person responsible for dressing her—it was the Lynk way. Rolling her shoulders back with false bravado, Sabine ignored Markis and followed Claire. They turned down the corridor to the left and went to the end, stopping before a door.
Claire knocked, and the king’s personal steward—the one who’d delivered the news of Alina’s death—opened the door.
“Your Highness,” he said with a bow.
“Good morning, Gunther,” she said, hoping she’d remembered his name correctly.
He smiled. “Please come in.” She stepped inside, and Gunther closed the door, leaving her guards and Claire out in the hallway. “The king is expecting you.”
