Flecks of Gold (17 page)

Even the powder that I used for blush was golden. I decided to combine part of the powder on my eyes for eye shadow with the liquid gold so it would create a shiny but softened effect. I used a brownish-red for lipstick, and black for eyeliner. That part was tricky, and the eyeliner ended up thicker than I normally wore it. After close scrutiny I decided that it didn’t look too bad, but when I was done I hardly recognized myself. Breeohan and Rafan had started going through their bags as I painted myself, so when I announced I was done and they looked up, both were shocked by my appearance.

“Do you do it differently here?” I asked, thinking about how wide a variety of cultural makeup there was in the world.

Rafan spoke. “You have applied the paints differently, but I much prefer your way. It accents your beautiful eyes, lovely cheek bones, and full lips. I am sure you will start a new fashion.”

Even though I wasn’t too sure about Rafan, it felt nice to have my features complimented by someone besides Mom. I hoped Breeohan would say something too, but he was silent, and I wasn’t going to fish for compliments.

“We should go now,” Breeohan finally said.

“We have one problem,” I said.

“What?”

I flipped the slit in the dress open wide, exposing my golden pants. Then I wiggled my feet. “No shoes.”

Rafan turned and pulled out a thin-soled pair of black beaded sandals. I could tell that they would be too small. Rafan was not as good at picking out shoe sizes as he was dresses.

“They won’t fit. I wear a size ten.” They looked confused so I tried again. “I have big feet for a woman, even in my country.” I put the shoes on to prove my point. My heel stretched beyond the sole by a good two inches. Both Breeohan and Rafan assumed expressions of panic.

“We don’t have time to find any more,” Rafan said.

“She can’t go barefoot,” Breeohan shot back.

“Why not? We could say it is a custom of hers,” Rafan said.

“Hello, I’m here too, and I’d rather not go barefoot, if you don’t mind,” I said.

“You’ll have to. There is nothing else we can do at this point.” Rafan kept looking around as if he would suddenly see the answer somewhere in the room.

“Hold on. Let’s think about this for a minute.” I looked closely at the sandal. The sole was plain black leather. I wondered if I could stretch it, and what kind of pattern would do so. The pattern of leather flashed in my mind, and I felt rather than saw the way to tweak the lacing to stretch it. With a mental tug, the soles sat before me two inches longer than before. They were also thinner—I doubted they would be much better than bare feet. But at least I would look respectable. I heard a gasp and glanced up to see Rafan’s dark face go white.

Breeohan was unmoved. “I told you my meddling at school is nothing compared to what Mary tries every day.”

“Did you know what you were doing?” Rafan asked shakily.

“Mostly. I’m getting better at telling what parts of a lacing can be tweaked.”

“Do you know what you could have done to us all?” Rafan’s voice was suddenly loud, and his face had gone from white to brownish red.

“I was pretty certain of what to change.” I started to feel defensive.

“Look, we are all fine, Rafan. Mary just helped us solve our problem,” Breeohan soothed. “We’d better leave now before we miss the entrance time.”

The red in Rafan’s face faded, and he seemed to get himself under control. In the silkiest courtier’s voice ever—which, considering his raspy voice, was quite an achievement—he said, “Forgive me, Mary. I was merely shocked for a moment. I had no idea that you were such a talented magician.” He bowed low. I noted that it was a bit lower than it should have been for a princess, and I felt an uneasy twinge. Would it be bad or good for Rafan to know about my ability to figure out lacings?

“It’s all right, Rafan. Let’s go then, shall we?” I picked up my bags.

“Please, allow me, Princess Kasala. A princess should never carry her own baggage.” Rafan took my backpack and bag from me. I knew he was right, but I didn’t like parting from my backpack. It felt wrong to hear someone else’s name addressed to me, but there was no helping things now.

Breeohan asked me to use the unnoticeable lacing so I could slide into the streets unseen. Breeohan and Rafan followed carefully because they were still visible. I noted right away that I was going to miss my sneakers. On top of that, I’d been wearing the headdress for only an hour, and already it pressed down, promising a headache. I hoped the pain wouldn’t fully descend until after my court presentation.

We slid through the streets quickly. It was early morning, and bright sunrays were just peaking over the three-story buildings we passed. The streets were cobbled more evenly than the last towns I had visited, and the trash in the gutters decreased as we traveled closer to the palace. It took a few hours to get to the upper-class buildings. Without Breeohan and Rafan, I’d have been hopelessly lost, despite the streets being less winding than in Cibar or the other towns I’d passed through. I noticed something else as well. People had plants everywhere—and not cactus either. Real green-leafed bushes and trees. I realized the city must have some sort of irrigation system running from the river to water so many plants.

Long before we were near enough to enter, I saw the top of the palace and its huge surrounding wall. It was the strangest building I’d ever seen. It looked like a cross between the Taj Mahal and a fairyland castle. Out of the building several turrets jutted, shaped like crystal, coming to sharp points. Bigger towers rose to tops swirled like soft ice-cream. The palace was whiter than all the bland city houses surrounding it, and the whiteness seemed to make it glow, though that could have been the morning sun striking it at just the right angle. Our plan to present me as a princess felt more stupid than ever.

My feet started to hurt from the thin-soled sandals, and the nearness of my headache was palpable. As we neared the palace, the buildings became grander, with engravings on the walls and doors and sometimes gated gardens.

Finally, we reached the gateway leading to the palace. Men in gold and purple uniforms questioned us, but then allowed us to pass through the huge entrance. The wall was at least two arm-lengths thick. Once through, we entered a huge, smoothly cobbled courtyard with decorative potted plants grouped in clusters to make the space look less forbiddingly vast. The palace loomed ahead, every inch of its white walls carved with animals, scenery, and symbols. It had to have taken years to create such detailed friezes. To the right of the palace, strangely colored horses roamed in a huge enclosure. I assumed a building next to the fence to be the stables. Next to the stables was another large square building where more men in gold and purple moved in and out.

We walked up to a wide marble staircase, leading to an enormous door. One side of the door was open to admit newcomers. I was trembling, so I held my dress to hide my shaking hands. Reaching the door, I saw that five people could walk through the open side together and barely brush shoulders.

We walked into a large marble-floored room tapestries and paintings hung on the walls. I admired the artwork, but thought they’d gone a little overboard on the decorating. There wasn’t any free wall space anywhere. The room was well-lit from a large skylight in the ceiling. I wondered how they had managed to make the domed ceiling out of all windows.

A man wearing what I guessed were the royal Iberloahan colors bowed respectfully.

“Please announce the arrival of Zefan Breeohan Irat Ahasan, Princess Kasala Ramay I’Onaf of Kirosan, and Doln Rafan Isat Diosa,” Breeohan said. The man bowed again and walked quickly across the length of the room to two large carved doors. These doors were not quite as large as the outer doors, but they were more ornately decorated, with gold inlay on and near the door knobs. The servant pushed the doors open, bowing as we passed.

I found myself at the top of another marble stairway, this one of green stone. It was only about ten steps to the bottom, but the height displayed the whole of a large ballroom, filled with people in vivid silken dresses and suits. At the sight of Breeohan, Rafan, and me, the nobles stopped their loud talking. It was nerve-wracking to have so many faces turned on me. I wasn’t perspiring yet, but I felt my confidence sliding away like sweat. Through the silence, the doorman’s voice rang out.

“Presenting the heir to the throne of Iberloah, Zefan Breeohan Irat Ahasan, accompanied by Princess Kasala Ramay I’Onaf of Kirosan, and Doln Rafan Isat Diosa.” When his name was called, Breeohan stepped forward down the marble stairs, so I followed suit when my name was bellowed, fighting the urge to look at my feet, but fearing that with my head up, I would trip.

Across the large room on a raised dais, the king sat in a purple stone chair with gold cushioning. He looked to be in his forties. His frame was lean, and his dark brown hair was fashioned in the traditional ponytail, but he wore no crown. Across his shoulder he wore a gold jewel-encrusted sash that fell to his waist and, I assumed, looped back up his back to his shoulder.

He looked at me as I looked at him, but he was too far away for me to see his eye color. I was interested to see how much gold his eyes contained. I reached the floor without incident, following Breeohan across the suddenly clear path to the king’s throne. My nerves were doing acrobatics, and I had to fight not to look back and forth at the people we passed. Their stares felt like heat on my face. When Breeohan reached the foot of the dais, he moved to the side, so that I stood in the center. I guessed Rafan was somewhere behind but didn’t dare look back. As one, Breeohan and I bowed low to the king.

“Please rise,” King Verone said. I straightened and looked up into his face. Our eyes met. His were mostly golden with just the hint of brown at the outer edges. He did not react in the least to the color of my eyes, and I couldn’t help but think that he was the first person since coming to this country who hadn’t shown shock at my eye color. I knew it was probably because he expected as much from royalty, but the lack of reaction steadied me somehow and gave me confidence.

“Princess Kasala, what brings you to my kingdom without even a forerunner announcing your arrival?” I heard a rebuke in his tone, though his voice sounded kind.

Breeohan opened his mouth, but I felt instinctively that I should answer. “I beg you will forgive me, Your Majesty. If I could have sent a runner, I would have, but I come to you under strange circumstances. In fact, it is a miracle that I am here at all and not at the bottom of the sea.”

One of the king’s eyebrows rose.

“You see, Sire, my ship was set upon by pirates as I traveled from Kirosan to Biopa. My maid managed to distract the pirates so I could escape onto one of the longboats. It drifted for a day before coming to your shores. I didn’t know I was in Iberloah, however. I thought I was on Reksa, so I traveled inland, thinking I would reach the capital. Instead, I became increasingly lost. Then I met Zefan Breeohan, who aided me in reaching you.” I stopped, worried that if I blabbered on, I would sound neither convincing nor princessy.

King Verone studied my face. I was suddenly afraid that he knew more about Kirosan than Breeohan did. There was no real reason for my fear. His gaze was steady, not slit in suspicion, but I couldn’t help feeling he could see the lie in my face. What if he knew what age the real Princess Kasala was, and what if she was ten or something? I knew this was a stupid idea. I felt my face turn hot with the beginnings of panic, and I tried to breathe calmly. Strangely enough, his steady gaze reminded me of the one Mom gave me when she knew I was hiding something.

My fears, however, must have been imagined because the king said, “I am distressed to hear your sad tale. We will do all we can to help you.” He looked pointedly toward Breeohan. “Zefan Breeohan, I will be interested to hear the tale of your Master journey and kind service to the princess. We will meet during the sixth portion in my study.” He nodded to us all, which I assumed meant we were dismissed. We backed away to fade into the crowd of shiny skirts and tinkling beads. As soon as we did, the room roared with the jangle of too many voices talking at once.

I found myself separated from Breeohan and Rafan by two women. One wore a crimson gown, one a green in a style similar to my own, but with more jewels sewn into the embroidery. They were both almost a head and a half shorter than me, but I was intimidated nonetheless. The girl in crimson satin looked like a living version of Queen Nefertiti. Where many of the courtiers had intricate designs painted on their temples and foreheads, she had a dark red garnetlike jewel on each side of her face, next to her eyes, with one more in the middle of her brow. Her eyes were a brilliant emerald green, with just a few flecks of gold, and the look in those eyes was anything but friendly. She smiled politely and bowed the proper depth to me, but her smile did not reach her eyes.

Nefertiti said, “It is an honor to meet you, Princess Kasala. I am Zefa Avana, and this is my sister, Zefa Dora.”

I bowed the height required for a Zefa and looked more closely at them. So this was the girl that Breeohan had blushed over, huh? I tried to suppress my immediate dislike. Maybe I was just imagining the unfriendly look in her eyes. Maybe she was as sweet and intelligent as she was gorgeous. I decided I’d better give her a chance before totally hating her.

Zefa Dora’s eyes were a muddier green, though she also had flecks of gold near the middle. She was less beautiful than her sister, on the plump side. In her gaze I felt a warmth not present in her sister, and my body moved toward it as one would move to a fire away from the cold. Dora wore no jewels on her smooth dark skin, only green leaf fronds painted on her temples and forehead. Poor girl. She would have looked much better with simple makeup.

“I’m pleased to meet you,” I said.

“We are happy to hear that Zefan Breeohan was so fortunate as to find you in your distressed state. Think of what might have happened if someone less kind had found you first.” Avana sounded disappointed that they hadn’t.