I shot straight up, breathless and covered in sweat. I haven’t dreamt about the last time I saw my mother in years. After she ushered me upstairs and into my room to face my justifiably angry nursemaids, Clara and Nadia, she just disappeared without a trace, vanishing from my life and existence completely.
That night, I was the perfect princess in a long-sleeved navy gown with silver embroidery and my favorite silver tiara, adorned with a large oval ruby in the center surrounded by smaller diamonds that spanned the length of the tiara. I remember being so excited to show my mama how pretty I looked. My brothers, Arion and Lucas, were just as regal in their trousers, navy tunics with silver buttons, black overcoats, polished boots, and their own circlets of diamonds and sapphires. Lucas was barely three years old, having celebrated his name day just two weeks prior. We were in the carriage downstairs, waiting for my mother so we could embark on the hour-long journey from Astoria, where my family's private estate was, to Riverholm, the capital. My brothers were mucking about while I leaned against the window, my head resting on my bent elbow, gazing out at Astoria Castle. Gods, I haven’t been back there in years.
I was watching Nadia, the elder of my two nursemaids, and the steward talk in hushed voices, glancing towards us frantically every so often, with Clara listening intently, looking equally worried. I began to sit up and tell my brothers to be quiet when Nadia swiftly turned on her heel, heading towards the carriage with Clara in tow. My older brother, Arion, noticing their hasty approach and serious expressions, said, “Miss Nadia, where’s Mother?”
Nadia stopped right in front of the open carriage door and said to my brother, “She’ll follow behind in the other carriage. Settle down, you must leave now. You three are already late. Gods, I cannot imagine the fit your father is going to throw.” My brother and I exchanged glances, clearly not accepting her words as truth. She stepped aside and helped Clara climb into the carriage, gesturing for Arion to sit beside me so Clara could sit next to Lucas.
He opened his mouth to object, but Nadia’s gaze snapped to him, and she swiftly cut him off, “Listen to me, boy. I’ve known your mother since she was just a girl, so you sit next to your sister, be quiet, and behave properly for Miss Clara.” She glanced over at me, knowing my antics and mischievous nature oh so well. “And you, girl, better not try anything funny. That stunt you pulled earlier left Miss Clara here as white as a ghost. Who do you think had to clean up all that mess you made? Hm? Now sit down and act like the lady your mother and I raised you to be.”
Both Arion and I were spoken into submission by a woman who was barely inches taller than I was, and I was merely ten years old at the time. So, we sat in silence as we made the hour-long journey to Riverholm while our protector, the one we loved so much and who loved us even more, our mother, disappeared like a whisper lost in the wind.
I groaned, falling back onto my feather-stuffed pillow. I hate starting my morning thinking about the past, specifically nine years ago on the worst day of my life. It feels ominous, especially on a day like this. I closed my eyes, willing sleep to take me into its embrace once more. I had my eyes closed for maybe five minutes when I heard voices nearing. Loud, obnoxious, overly competitive male voices. I groaned, grabbing the pillow next to me and covering my head with it, willing Arion and Sam to go crawling back to whatever hellhole they stumbled out of this morning.
Their voices only grew in volume until I heard a thud against my window, and then another. I groaned loudly into the pillow, tossed it aside, and moved to get out of bed, throwing the sheets off me. I slipped on my slippers and quickly walked to my open armoire, grabbing my dressing robe hanging on the corner of the open door. Sliding it over my arms and pulling it around myself, I stepped towards the window and yanked open the curtains.
I opened the window, prepared to chew their heads off, and yelped, narrowly ducking under the windowsill as a rock flew over my head. I heard it thud on the wooden floor behind me. Peering down, I caught sight of Arion keeled over at the waist, laughing his head off at the near hit, while Sam stood frozen with his arm mid-air, looking guilty as if he had just thrown that godsdamned rock.
“Are you godsdamned kidding me?” I said, glaring daggers at both of them. My brother finally looked up from his fit of laughter. “Well, good morning to you too, my lovely star of a sister. Sleeping in, are we?” he said tauntingly, giving me a cheeky smile. The sun was barely over the horizon, no one else was out in the gardens where they were, and the city beyond had barely begun to stir.
“Are you kidding me, Ari?” I quickly glanced at the clock on my nightstand and looked back at my brother. “It’s barely half past six. Why in the gods' name are you two out and about? Oh, let me guess, just the usual drunken debauchery. What brothel did you two crawl out of? Was it The Veil again? Or are you banned from that one too?” I whipped my head in Sam's direction, who was now standing with his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. “And seriously, Sam, trying to kill me this early in the morning?”
My brother kept on laughing, smiling broadly up at me, while Sam feigned hurt, putting his hand on his chest as if I had just struck him with an arrow. “Domi, you wound me, assuming the worst of me. Why would I ever harm that beautiful face?” he said, smirking up at me.
My heart skipped a beat, and a moment later I realized he was taunting me. I internally cringed as I remembered I had gone to sleep with a beauty treatment Clara had concocted for me in preparation for my 20th name day celebration still smeared all over my face. I put my hand on my face and confirmed that the mask was indeed still there, dried and flaking in some areas. I groaned in frustration and said, “You two are the absolute worst. Please go terrorize someone else.” I was about to close the window, but I remembered the rock Sam had thrown, now sitting on the floor behind me. So, I spun around, grabbed the rock, and chucked it at the awaiting pains-in-my-behind below. “Owww!” I heard my brother yelp in pain as it hit him on the head. I looked down and saw him rubbing his head while pouting up at me. “I wasn’t even the one who threw the rock at you, and I was willing to look past whatever you did to your face,” Arion said, gesturing at my face while making one of his own.
Sam just looked up at me, still smirking with a twinkle in his eye. I quipped back, “Whatever. I’ll still be beautiful and wrinkle-free when you two are old, saggy, and wrinkly.” Sam, with that smirk still plastered across his face, continued to stare at me as he said, “Of course, princess, I’m sure whatever you have on that mug of yours is the key to eternal youth and bea—” I cut him off by slamming my window shut and turning on my heel, rounding my bed, and crossing my room to wash this godsforsaken treatment off my face in my bathing chamber.
I plugged the drain and turned the knob on my water basin, waiting for the water to fill as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My reflection confirmed that my face was still indeed covered in the remnants of the dried and flaky green-hued concoction that Clara swore by. The two neat plaits Ria had skillfully woven into my hair last night were still intact, but a few strands had escaped, framing my face with loose waves of deep brown. I heard a low rumble resonate through the pipes hidden within the walls, and the sound of rushing water grew louder. Droplets began to trickle out of the spout, gradually increasing in volume until a steady stream flowed into the basin below. I let it fill before turning it off.
I dipped my hands into the cool water, collecting a handful before splashing it onto my face. The coldness of the water jolted me awake, dispelling any remnants of sleep. I began to scrub with my hands at the green-hued concoction, feeling it gradually soften and wash away under my touch. I scrubbed every inch of my face and inspected my skin closely in the mirror, ensuring that no trace of the dried mask remained.
I stared at myself in the mirror and saw my mother’s deep, emerald green eyes staring back at me. I took in my still-damp olive-toned skin, the high cheekbones of my father, and the freckles that crossed from cheek to cheek like a constellation spanning the night sky. Despite Clara's efforts, the mask did nothing to help the dark smudges beneath my eyes. So much for the beauty sleep she ordered me to get last night as she helped me get ready for bed. I grabbed a dry washcloth from its hook next to my mirror and patted my face and neck dry. I untied the ribbon that kept the braids bound and began to separate the strands.
I heard the familiar sound of Clara’s knock and shouted for her to come in. She let herself in, saying, “Good morning, Dominica! Today is the big day. I hope you got your beau—” She stopped as she beheld the empty bed and turned towards the bathing room, wide-eyed, taking in the dark smudges underneath my eyes, my now messy hair, and the wet spot that now marred my night shift after washing my face.
“Gods, Clara, I don’t look that bad,” I said, continuing to separate the strands of hair as I walked out of the bathing chamber and back into my room. I plopped myself onto the green velvet and dark oak chair set before the grand dark oak vanity, which was fitted with several drawers adorned with ornate carvings and a large oval mirror contained in a carved frame of gold.
“You won’t after I’m through with you,” she said. I watched her in the mirror as she strolled to the open armoire and hung up at least five different dresses. “Clara, exactly how many dresses do you expect me to wear?” I questioned her, beginning to work on the second braid. She quipped back, “Oh, don’t be silly. You need options for the big day! Gods, you’re turning twenty! I remember when you were barely out of your leading strings!”
As she walked back towards the door, she said to me, “Close your robe. I’m having some more things for tonight brought in.” I finished my second braid and pulled my robe together, somewhat covering the wet smudge, and tied it into a knot. She called to the footmen to bring in the rest of the things, which consisted of several colorful boxes of varying shapes and sizes, all tied with matching silk ribbons, as well as a couple of large trunks that needed to be hauled in by— “Oh my gods, not you two again. Can’t I have some peace today? It is my name day, after all,” I snapped, staring at Arion and Sam, who were hauling in the trunks.
“Be nice, Dominica. They ran into me as I was making my way over here and noticed that the footmen were having some difficulty carrying everything. They so kindly offered their help,” she said, smiling brightly. “Now come this way, boys. Let’s put the trunk right here.”
“Don’t mind her, Miss Clara. She’s cranky first thing in the morning,” my brother said as he and Sam moved to place the trunks where she directed them. I crossed my arms and slumped down in my chair, staring at them in the mirror as they helped Clara rearrange the various boxes and trunks, chatting in the process. “Samuel, I didn’t know you were back from your uncle’s estate. I thought you were expected there until the end of the month at least. Dispatching some trouble, I heard,” she said to him.
“You would be correct. I was able to get a reprieve from my duty to attend our lovely princess’ name day celebration. I arrived early this morning and must depart at first light tomorrow,” he said. I turned in my chair to face him and said, “So that’s why you two were out so early.” He met my gaze and nodded in confirmation. He stood tall next to my brother, donning a white tunic and dark navy trousers tucked into his black boots. His caramel eyes complemented his deep olive skin as he ran a hand through his curly black hair, which he kept longer than most, pushing back some stray ringlets that had come loose while helping Clara with the trunks.
Sam came into our lives a few months after my mother’s disappearance. His father, Lord Aleksander Rincon, passed away in a tragic accident a couple of weeks prior to my mother’s disappearance. His mother had passed away during childbirth, so his uncle, Antony Rincon, took charge of him and became his caretaker. Since Sam was fourteen at the time of his father’s passing, he ascended to be the Lord of Toncia, an island off the coast situated in the South near the border between Apridia and Valinor. Sam’s father was at court during this time, acting as an advisor to my father on matters relating to the border, so Sam and his uncle made the venture North to Riverholm and have resided here ever since, with his uncle replacing his father as advisor to my father and quickly becoming one of his most trusted.
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Sam broke my gaze and looked towards Clara, who was asking my brother what he’s been up to. “Oh, you know Clara, just crown prince things,” he said, winking at her and dancing around her question. She raised an eyebrow and was about to push further when Sam interjected, “Ari, we shouldn’t keep Clara and the princess much longer. As we saw earlier, Clara has her work cut out for her, and we need not keep them any longer.”
My brother stifled his laughter, and Clara’s expression shifted, obviously realizing that we had encountered each other earlier. I was playing with a strand of my hair, twirling it around my finger as I shrugged and said, “These two have no idea how to keep it down and act normal when in each other's presence and woke me up extremely early.”
“Oh come on, Domi, it wasn’t that early and it wasn’t on purpose,” Ari quipped back, crossing his arms and glaring at me. “You threw rocks at my window, for gods' sake!” I shouted back, standing to my feet and turning to face my brother, who had that same swaggering expression he always had on. Sam just crossed his arms and observed me with a smirk adorning his face.
“Oh, you three and your bickering,” Clara said, sighing exasperatedly. She turned to Ari and Sam and said, “You two need to go. I can’t have you stressing out Dominica on her big day. So shoo, go make yourselves useful and help with the decorating.”
“Oh come on, Miss Clara,” Ari said, defending himself. “We mean no har—” She cut him off with a shush and began to herd them both out. I let out a chuckle at the sight of Clara, of all people, pushing these two fully grown men, or should I say boys, out the door.
Tall and slender, Clara had transitioned from being my nursemaid to a lady-in-waiting when I had my first bleeding a few years ago. Her fair complexion, with a defining beauty mark situated right above her lip on the left side, complemented her blonde hair, which has always been cut neatly above her shoulders. Her light green, round eyes always shone with kindness and wisdom alike. Clara is undeniably pretty and has been since my earliest memories of her. I remember drawing a mark on my face right where Clara had it and begging my mom to let me have hair like Clara’s, and subsequently sobbing with disappointment after she explained to me how these things work.
I walked behind her, arms still crossed, as she was shooing them out. “Serves them right,” I said, putting my hands on my hips as she got them out the door. Ari, always refusing to go down without a fight, stuck his tongue out at me while Sam just gave me a lazy smile. “Good day to you two. We will see you tonight at the celebration,” she said, closing the door on them.
She turned to me and said, “Well, let’s get cracking. We haven’t got all day now, do we?” I groaned, crossed my arms, and protested, “But we literally do. The sun has barely risen. Plus, I still have my lessons with Ser Orion and Master McDougal.” She was already walking past me, sorting through the array of boxes and trunks that were just hauled in. As she was untying the ribbon to a deep maroon box, she said, “I’ve gone ahead and canceled your lessons for today.” I turned to face her, about to protest when she cut me off, “Listen, Dominica, I had no choice but to cancel them. The order came directly from your father. You know how much I know you value your lessons with Ser Orion and Master McDougal, but your father ordered the lessons canceled and for you to join him for lunch at noon.”
She turned to face me, brushing a strand out of my face. I sighed. “Do you have any idea why? Please tell me it’s not what I think it is.” I dreaded the thought of being introduced to more suitors. I expected that tonight during the ball, but not before. Clara gave me a sympathetic look and took my hand in hers.
“I think you know why. Your father arranged this lunch so you could meet the son of an old friend of his. Some Grand Duke from the Southern continent,” she said, gazing into my eyes knowingly. She knew that marriage, let alone to a complete stranger, was the last thing in the entire world I wanted to do.
My mother was my age when she was married off to my father. While she never spoke ill of him, I knew she hated being married to him. She felt that the only good thing to come out of her marriage to my father was my siblings and me. She also was never allowed to return to her homeland, Valinor, nor was she permitted to visit or have anyone from Valinor visit her. My father detests Valinor, embittered by Apridia’s loss and embarrassment in the war a hundred years ago. Gods, the only reason he married my mother was that he was ordered to by my grandfather, King Aldric I.
My grandfather was an optimist, seeking to restore relations with Valinor. In fact, he was actually friends with the King of Valinor, King Basel, at the time. As the story goes, my grandfather met my mother, the daughter of the king and one of his concubines, at a court celebration hosted by King Basel in the beautiful coastal city of Aralla in the South of Valinor. My grandfather was struck not just by my mother’s beauty and grace, but also her wit and humor. She had once told me that he said to her, “If I wasn’t so old I’d be honored to have you as my wife, though I doubt you would’ve had me.” He thought she’d be a match for my father and went right up to King Basel and negotiated for her hand right there and then.
My father, running my grandfather’s court in his absence, had no idea of his new bride until my grandfather returned home with my mother in tow. Unfortunately, my grandfather’s prowess as a ruler did not extend to matchmaking, and my father was enraged at this betrothal, initially refusing to acknowledge my mother. My grandfather said he held out for three months and it took him ordering my father to marry my mother or else—what that else was, I have no idea. I sighed, accepting that there was no way out of this as what my father decreed went and said to Clara, “Can I at least do my lesson with Master McDougal? It doesn’t have to be for the full time. He can meet me in the drawing room and tutor me as I have breakfast.” Clara sighed, shaking her head.
“Darling, you know I would love to, but I’m sure the Master has already made ot—”
“Please, Clara. Do it for me. It doesn’t hurt to just ask.” I pleaded with her, putting my palms together for emphasis. “After my lesson, I am all yours. I will do whatever and wear whatever you want.”
She sighed in defeat and put her hands up. “Okay, fine. I concede. I will have one of the footmen deliver a letter with your request and we will see what he says.” She emphasized the last part. “But in the meantime, we begin preparations.”
She walked over to the ornate rope hanging next to my large, four-poster bed and gave it a pull. I heard the familiar chime sound, and not a minute later a footman knocked on my door. I sat on the foot of my bed as she rattled off orders to the footman to fetch my handmaids, Lucia and Ria, and to deliver my request to Master McDougal. He was my tutor in all subjects and by far the oldest person I knew. While he would fall asleep during my lessons on occasion, he was kind, wicked smart, and quite witty—when he was awake, that is. Soon after the footman departed, my handmaids knocked on the door to my bedchamber and let themselves in, saying hello, nodding their heads at Clara, who was still sorting through the boxes and trunks she had brought in earlier, and curtsying before me. They said in unison, “Good morning, your highness. How may we be of service?”
I smiled at them. “I’ve said several times there’s no need for the formalities. You both know that I’m not in charge.”
Clara cut in. “Ria, can you help her get ready for breakfast this morning? She will be dining with Master McDougal for her lesson at eight o’clock. Lucia, can you make her bed and help me unpack everything?” She gestured to the opened boxes and trunk. I smiled brightly at Clara and she rolled her eyes. The twins nodded in unison and began to get to work.
Even though I usually got myself ready for my lessons, I was not going to push my luck with Clara. I let Ria guide me over to the vanity where I sat in the plush velvet chair as she opened the various ornately carved drawers. The vanity was my mother’s. She said she refused to depart Aralla without it as it was her mother’s, who had passed away in childbirth. Ria pulled out a couple of combs, a brush, a couple of ribbons, and a concoction Clara had made to help keep my hair in place. Ria began to comb through the small knots and tangles that had formed in the short time my hair had been unbound.
I studied her reflection in the mirror, taking in the contrast between her pale olive skin and the depth of her dark brown eyes, which were set in a rounded shape. Her long brown hair was meticulously braided, as it always was, cascading down her back in a single elegant plait, which contrasted with her sister's short, blunt bob—a deliberate choice to ensure people could tell them apart as they were nearly identical. I asked her, “How is your daughter, Isabella? She just had her name day a few days ago, correct?”
She smiled, thinking of her daughter. “She is well, and yes, she just had her name day last week. Thank you for asking, your highness.”
I nodded in response. “I heard Sam is back for your celebration tonight.”
I rolled my eyes, my reaction garnering a small smile from the handmaid. “Yes, I was rudely awoken by him and my brother this morning,” I said, my words interlaced with a hint of annoyance. Clara, apparently listening from across the room, said, “Oh yes, what happened this morning, Dominica?”
I sighed and recounted everything that had transpired in the early morning, minus my dream about my mother. My throwing of the rock back at them garnered a giggle from Ria and Lucia and a scowl from Clara. She said, “I thought I raised you and your brother better than that.” She shook her head and muttered to herself, “Throwing rocks at each other like children at the ages of twenty-three and twenty. Where did I go wrong?”
I quipped at her, “You did nothing wrong with me and Luca. The other one, though, I’m not sure. Might need to investigate that.” I watched her glare at me in the mirror as she and Lucia continued their work and stuck my tongue out in response, giggling at her annoyance. Ria had applied the concoction all over my hair and divided it into two equal sections, deftly braiding each one from the front to the back of my head, where they merged into a single intricate plait.
“All done,” Ria said. “Go and undress. I’ll pick out clothes for your breakfast.” She walked over to the set of drawers situated next to the door and pulled out a set of underthings for me to change into, hanging them on the dressing screen in the corner. I followed her over and ducked behind the screen, untying my robe, shimmying it off, and hanging it over the screen. I did the same with my night shift and slipped into the underthings she picked out for me. As I was doing so, Ria hung a dress on the other side of the screen.
“May I come behind, your highness?” she asked.
I rolled my eyes at the formality and told her yes.
She came to the open side of the dressing screen with a shift of what looked to be white silk. “Would you like my assistance?” she asked.
I shook my head no in response and she promptly handed it over to my outstretched hand. I put both my hands through the open bottom and let it slide over my head, careful to avoid marring the braid Ria had just done. The shift stopped right above my knees, the silk feeling divine against my skin. She grabbed the dress that was hanging on the other side of the dressing screen, which I now saw was a simple, deep pink, floor-length dress with a square neckline and short, cuffed sleeves.
I sighed, saying to her, “You know there's a reason I have never worn this dress, right?”
Ria smiled at me. “Yes, your grace, I know you do not like these colors, but they go so beautifully with your eyes and skin that I could not help myself. I can pick something else if you wish.”
I smiled at her compliment and shook my head no.
She smiled again and began to help me get into the dress. She held the front of it open as I stepped into it, slipping my hands into the sleeves. I turned around and pulled my hair to the front as Ria buttoned up the back for me. Lucia, having just finished helping Clara with the boxes, made her way over to us with a matching pair of slippers. She handed them to Ria, who was waiting with her hands outstretched—how Lucia knew exactly what to do was beyond me; maybe it was a twin thing. She placed the slippers on the ground and I stepped into them, making sure they fit snugly. Ria stepped out from behind the dressing screen and I followed suit.
Lucia was cleaning up the vanity while Clara was holding open the door for the footmen, who were carrying out the now empty boxes. Ria said, “Ma’am, she is ready for her breakfast with the Master.”
I walked across my room, saying good morning and excuse me to the incoming footmen, who took off their hats and bowed, and headed for my desk, located on the other side of my bed. I grabbed my leather notebook, the small stack of readings he had me complete since our last lesson a few days ago, and a few of my favorite quills and stuffed it all into my worn leather satchel.
Clara said from the doorway, “Come now, Dominica. Master McDougal is waiting for you in the drawing room.”