The group of finely dressed handmaidens and noble ladies pushed me away from the direction I’d been heading and toward the opposite end of the hallway. After a few minutes of irritating shoves and “accidental” trips, I was led into a large room with enormous windows that allowed brilliant rays of sun to shine through.

“Welcome to my solar,” Morgana said, looking momentarily awed at the beauty of her room. The solar was nestled quite deeply within the east wing of the grand mansion. Curious, though, that it was on the same floor as Lilliana’s worn-down chambers. “This is my sanctuary of elegance and refinement. Any actions in this room which do not meet these expectations will not be tolerated.” Most of the women around Morgana nodded vigorously at her words, though some seemed to shuffle awkwardly. To me, that seemed like a complete lie. I doubted anything happening in this room today would be elegant or refined.

The room itself was currently bathed in the soft, golden light of the afternoon sun and seemed to have been meticulously prepared for nobility.

The sun’s rays filtered through the tall, arched windows adorned with delicate transparent glass; some of which contained small sections of stained glass that created an atmosphere of serene beauty. A gentle spring breeze slipped between the partially opened windows and wafted through the room, filling it with the scent of blooming roses from the gardens of the mansion just below.

The focal point of the room was a large, intricately carved wooden table, draped with a finely embroidered linen cloth. The cloth was decorated with images of wildflowers and vines, its edges delicately fringed with golden threads. On the table, an array of silver platters gleamed, each one carefully arranged with tempting delicacies that I’d never seen before but that smelled better than anything I’d eaten since being tried and hung.

There were small pastries filled with honey and nuts, slices of fresh bread accompanied by rich, creamy butter, and a selection of cheeses that ranged from sharp and tangy to mild and creamy. Bowls of ripe, juicy berries and nuts added vibrant color to the spread. Despite myself, my stomach rumbled and I cursed as Morgana cast a smirk in my direction and the women snickered again.

Goblets of finely crafted gold glass, each one a work of art with swirls of color embedded within the clear crystal linings, were set at each place, ready to be filled with the finest tea and herbal infusions. Delicate bottles, engraved with scenes of hunting and pastoral life, stood nearby, filled to the brim with a light purple liquid.

Comfortable high-backed chairs, each cushioned with velvet and embroidered pillows, surrounded the table, inviting the ladies to sit and enjoy the afternoon’s luxuries. The chairs were positioned to allow easy conversation, and a few low stools provided extra seating for the younger ladies who might join. Next to the most finely decorated and lavish chair lined with lush cushions was a single bar stool. Even before Morgana yanked me toward the stool with her, I knew who it was for.

The walls of the solar were adorned with tapestries that depicted scenes of courtly love and epic battles, their rich colors and intricate details adding warmth and a sense of history to the room. Between the tapestries, shelves held an array of treasures: intricately carved wooden boxes, delicate glass vases filled with fresh flowers, and a selection of expensive or rare books bound in rich leather and embossed with gold.

A minstrel, dressed in a tunic of green and gold, sat near the window with his lute, softly plucking the strings and filling the room with a gentle melody that contrasted in an almost ominous way with the devious aura of the noblewomen.

As I was pulled to the stool next to Morgana’s luxurious chair like some sort of wild pet, I counted the other women taking their seats. Thirteen in total, excluding myself and Morgana, who would make it fifteen. The accompanying handmaidens stood at the outskirts of the solar.

I, of course, did not sit on the rusted and bent bar stool. My tolerance would only go so far. Instead, I looked at the older handmaiden who’d taken her seat on Morgana’s left quizzically, feigning confusion.

“Madam,” I said, implying the older age of the woman who’d attempted to insult me earlier in my use of ‘madam’ instead of ‘lady,’ and walked around Morgana’s seat to put my hand on the older noblewoman’s shoulder. “Surely you do not expect a daughter of Baron Silverwater to sit on such a thing, now do you? That would most certainly be a great disrespect toward the Baron.” I summoned a small, thin sliver of heart energy and let it slither over the older noblewoman’s skin like ooze.

She gasped and was out of her seat before she looked at Morgana for instructions. Morgana didn’t have the opportunity to speak as a different woman laughed. This one with a voice high and much more brash.

Stolen story; please report.

“She’s got you there, Brie. Just sit on the stool and be quiet.” The woman who spoke shamed even Morgana’s beauty with her own. Long locks of straight gold hair cascaded like a gentle river over her shoulders and to her mid-back, small intentionally made waves embedded into the straight lengths to give a more regal feeling. Bright green eyes sparkled in my direction while her red lips pursed in amusement, a great contrast to her perfectly smooth, fair skin. Even her voice was an elegant mix of levity and command, a style of speaking I recognized instantly as royalty.

The golden-haired woman in question stood at the Solar's entrance, her intricately woven silver gown flowing in a silent trail behind her as she approached the table. All snickering stopped as three of the lesser young noble ladies scattered out of her way, leaving three seats for her to choose from. She chose none, deigning instead to remove a smaller girl from a high-backed blue cushioned chair. The little girl paled to the color of snow and her cheeks flushed a deep red before she, likewise, scrambled out of the way.

“Ah, Princess Isla, I hadn’t realized you were planning to make today’s gathering, or I would have greeted you at the entrance,” Morgana said with barely disguised distaste. Actually, it wasn’t really disguised at all.

Princess Isla didn’t comment on the disrespect and gave a soft laugh. “That’s quite alright, Lady Silverwater. I had nearly forgotten the event was today. Had Lady Haventure not reminded me of it, I may have very well missed it entirely.”

Lady Haventure… I couldn’t place the name though it danced at the tip of my tongue. I was certain that it referred to the daughter of a duchy. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like Lady Haventure was in attendance and no one confirmed who she was, likely because they all already knew.

“I see,” Morgana said and turned her gaze back toward me, clearly intending to switch the conversation back to a more favorable topic.

I didn’t give her the chance and sat in the empty seat. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness,” I greeted the princess, giving her a respectful, if slight, dip of my head. A few of the girls around me inhaled sharply, one even gasped. I looked around at them to see what had caused their reactions. They all glanced away instead of meeting my eyes.

Princess Isla raised an eyebrow, surprise sketched clear on her face though she covered it quickly. “The pleasure is all mine, Young Lady Silverwater. Though, I do believe we have met before…”

“If that is true, I apologize for the discourtesy. My head, unfortunately, took quite a beating a few weeks ago. It seems I have yet to recover and there is much missing from my memory.”

Princess Isla cast Morgana a puzzled expression, but Morgana only shrugged.

“I do hope you recover, Young Lady Silverwater,” the princess said after a moment. “I do say, however, that you have greatly improved your speech since we last met. Do you believe that to be a consequence of your trauma?”

It was my turn to shrug. “I am no medical professional nor am I a healer, Your Highness. I… am simply a young child.”

“Hmmm… I’m not sure ‘simply a child’ fits you all that accurately. Why don’t we—”

The princess’ next words were cut off by the sudden appearance of maids carrying pots of what smelled to be freshly brewed tea.

“Ah, perfect timing, Bella,” Morgana said to the foremost maid. “Please provide Her Highness with our best tea. Everyone should get the tea appropriate for their station.”

The maid, Bella, nodded and took the first kettle toward the princess. Other maids scurried into the solar behind Bella, each with their own kettles. The particularly petite maid then poured steaming tea into the small teacup originally set for Lady Brie in front of me. A slightly bitter scent wafted from my cup mixed with the scent of something sweet and herbal. Normally, a lady would be served tea by the personal maid they’d brought with them to the party. I’d read some history on previous nobilities being killed through their tea ceremonies a few generations back. This was a sort of tradition created in light of those deaths.

Therefore, considering this had been Lady Brie’s seat, I was unsurprised when the petite maid left my side and returned almost immediately to Lady Brie’s side, who had already been served tea. I figured since I clearly did not have a personal maid for this event, it was perhaps a custom to have someone else’s maid serve it. Or not. I wasn’t sure.

It was, however, quite interesting that Lady Brie’s maidservant had served poisoned tea to where her lady was supposed to be sitting. I recognized the sweet herbal smell mixed with the normal bitterness of tea and it was not something a loyal servant would serve their master. I glanced at the princess and Morgana, the former looking bemused while the latter seemed almost bored. Or annoyed—it was hard to tell the difference with Morgana.

Neither looked to be anticipating anything. Lady Brie seemed somewhat on edge, but not enough that I would have thought she was attempting to poison me, especially since the tea should have technically been served to her, not me.

Still, this could be a surprising opportunity to restrain Morgana before any sort of bullying truly began. Since Lady Brie was considered a follower of Morgana, it wouldn’t be a stretch for the Baron to assume the poisoning was caused by Morgana’s pressure or influence. If I were poisoned and the Baron suspected Morgana of instigating the attack in direct opposition to orders and threatening the financial alliance he’d gain with the Earl, that would give me even more space to build a foundation with the barony and within myself before real trouble began to brew.

Unfortunately, that did assume I survived the poison, and without knowing the dosage or potency, it could prove unnecessarily dangerous. Still, the plan did have its merits…