Sorrows of Adoration (11 page)

No sooner had he spoken
the words than Kurit entered again with Tash behind him. The
physician gave me a reproachful look and asked the others to
leave.

After ensuring I had
not torn the stitches, Tash gave me a lengthy lecture on my need to
remain in bed and adhere to his directives. As he left, he
readmitted Kurit.

“I’m not supposed to
stay in here alone with you,” Kurit said. “Father says it would
reflect poorly upon you. So until you have a maidservant, I can’t
stay. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t hurt.”

“My shoulder is fine,
although I can’t explain what madness overtook my mind. Kurit, I
hope I haven’t ruined everything.”

“What, with Father?” He
made a wry face and said, “He found you amusing. I told you, he’s a
good man. He seemed worried that he had upset you. Trust me, if he
had hated you or found you immediately unworthy, he’d have said so
when we spoke as Tash tended to you. He’s a man of few words, but
when he does speak he means what he says. Don’t worry about him.
He’s bound to adore you.” With that, Kurit kissed my cheek and left
the room.

* * *

That evening as I sat
up in the bed after eating a delicious dinner, a beautiful,
dark-haired young woman knocked and entered, carrying what appeared
to be several dresses over one arm.

“Pardon me, Lady Aenna,
I hope that I have not disturbed you. I am Leiset,” she said,
curtseying delicately. “I have been assigned to serve as your
maidservant, if you should approve.”

I felt the urge to
laugh at the thought of having a maidservant, but I didn’t wish to
offend her so I pressed my lips together tightly and said
nothing.

She put the pile of
clothing over the back of the chair at the dresser. “I know you’re
too weak still to rise and try any of these on, but I wanted to
have something on hand for you when you are well enough. Of course,
you are to have a wardrobe of your own made for you eventually,
but, well, it has all been rather short notice, hasn’t it? I hope
you don’t find it presumptuous, but I took the liberty of selecting
some of the tailor’s general fare for the time being. His Highness
told me you are close to my height, but quite …” She seemed
unsure how to continue.

“Larger?” I suggested,
noting that she was rather willowy.

She smiled kindly and
said, “His word was curvaceous. So I selected several dresses that
I thought ought to fit well enough until you have your own made. If
you would like, I shall hold them up for you, and whichever you
dislike I shall return to the tailor immediately.”

I nodded.

She picked up the top
dress from the pile and held it against herself. It was a dusty
pink, with full sleeves that were pleated at the top to give the
gown a soft look. The neckline was modestly high, and the dress
flared at the bottom.

“It’s beautiful,” I
said.

“It’s not bad but
rather dowdy,” she said, approaching the bed with it. “And the
colour, oh dear, no, not with your hair. I apologize, my Lady. I
had not taken that into account. I assumed your hair was dark, but
I should not have, for I’ve seen red-haired Aleshans before. His
Highness failed to mention it. Men never think about how colours
clash.” She went back to the pile, dropping the first gown on the
dresser. She flipped through the other dresses, automatically
disqualifying several of similar colours. From the bottom she
pulled a deep blue gown, simple in design with short sleeves and a
high collar. She brought it to my bedside, and I reached out to
touch the lovely fabric. It was soft and rich, unlike any material
I had ever handled.

“This colour suits you
very well, if I may say so, my Lady. The pattern is simplistic, I
know, but …” Leiset trailed off, noticing my reaction. The
full impact of what was occurring had hit me with the touch of that
luxurious fabric. These elegant gowns, they were the simple
starters that this woman hoped I would suffer whilst my own dresses
were made. My own dresses. I had never owned more than two at any
time in my life, and here was presented to me a choice of no less
than ten. A month before I would have considered this dress she
held for me to be an unrealistic dream—perhaps an unaffordable
treasure seen in a merchant’s caravan. Now this woman, who called
herself my maidservant, was presenting me clothing greater than I
ever would have prayed for. I was overwhelmed and struck by quiet
tears of disbelief and gratitude.

“My Lady, have I
offended you?” Leiset asked.

I looked at her with
empathy, wanting to explain that she had done nothing wrong, but I
was at a loss for words and could not make my hand let go of the
soft fabric.

“Forgive me. I should
have realized that you were not feeling well enough for this
tonight. Shall I take them away, Lady Aenna?”

“No,” I said. “It’s so
beautiful. I’ve never had anything so beautiful. By rights, you
shouldn’t call me ‘Lady’. Living in the palace, you are of higher
station than I.”

Leiset looked at me
strangely and said, “But you are to marry Prince Kurit, are you
not?”

“Yes, but despite his
kind words, I’m still a peasant girl. Less than a month ago I was a
barmaid. Did you know that?”

“It was the rumour I
had heard, my Lady, yes. But that is of no importance. You’re the
betrothed of the Prince. It is not my place to judge who you may
have been before today, my Lady.”

“I’m the same person I
was then. I would not have been deemed qualified then to be your
maidservant, let alone have one myself. To be quite blunt, I am
rather uncomfortable with the title. I know nothing of being a
Lady.” I let go of the dress finally, moving my hand to my
forehead, where an uncomfortable ache had begun. I sighed and said,
“He’s mad to think I shall ever fit into this world.”

Leiset set the
beautiful blue dress down gently on the back of the chair and then
brought me a handkerchief with which to dry my cheeks. I thanked
her and pressed it to my face.

“Are you unwell? Shall
I fetch the physician?” she asked quietly.

“No,” I said, dropping
my hand and the handkerchief to my lap. I rolled my eyes at the
thought of another lecture and said, “I’d rather see him as little
as necessary.”

Leiset tried to hide a
smile. “You’ve been subjected to one of his speeches, I
assume.”

“One? Several,” I
muttered.

Leiset covered her
mouth with her hand, trying not to laugh, and the sight made me
laugh myself, which in turn I tried to hide for decency’s sake,
knowing it was impolite to laugh about someone who was not present.
But it was too late, for the more each of us tried to suppress the
giggles, the funnier it became, until we both sat on the bed
red-faced with laughter.

Leiset managed to gain
control over herself first, and pressing her hands together as if
in prayer, said, “Oh, it’s wicked of me to laugh at him. But he is
such an autocrat, isn’t he? I suppose he’s entitled, since he’s
very good at what he does. He’s healed people who were otherwise
doomed to die. But, Lady Aenna, you should hear how he speaks down
to even the King. It’s almost treasonous!”

I smiled at her. I had
only just met her, but already I had decided I liked her very much.
Enough, in fact, that I was quite uncomfortable with the idea of
her serving beneath me. That just simply was not right, and I tried
to explain that to her.

“Would you rather have
someone else assigned to you then?” she asked.

“No, not at all! But
could you not refer to me with a title? At least not just yet. I’m
sorry if that’s inappropriate, but truly, it makes me nervous.”

“It is only
inappropriate if you deem it so, Lady—I mean, Aenna. I shall call
you whatever you request me to. Though it would only be wise for me
to address you formally in public.”

“Also, I am used to
caring for myself. All of this concern while I’ve been injured,
it’s been very nice and I appreciate it, but I’m not about to go
ordering anyone to serve me.”

Leiset nodded, seeming
to understand how I felt. I thought perhaps she was imagining
herself in my place and could thus understand how strange and
awkward it all was. “I shall try not to make you feel waited upon,
then, but I am here to work for you. You shouldn’t feel that it is
putting me out to ask me to do something for you, for that’s my
job. Why, if you were to go fetch yourself a meal in the kitchen,
the poor cooks would be mortified, thinking that you had come to
scold them!”

“I wouldn’t scold them
at all! The food I’ve had has been better than anything I’ve been
privileged to eat before.”

“It may well be, but
there’s a structure to life in the palace. The royalty do not tend
to daily concerns such as fetching meals, drawing baths, arranging
schedules, and the like. They have other important things to worry
about.”

“But I’m not royalty,”
I replied.

“You will be, Aenna.
When you marry the Prince.”

I sighed heavily. There
it was again—the knowledge that I was not ready for this world.
“It’s all too much. It’s all so foolish and ridiculous, like a
bard’s tale for children.” I said.

Leiset put a gentle
hand on my arm and said, “I cannot imagine how difficult it must
be, to go from being a humble barmaid to the bride-to-be of the
Prince. But that shall be part of my job, to help you prepare for
that. You will take lessons in geography and economics and the
like—the sort of lessons that daughters of nobility are raised with
as children. I have worked in the palace all of my life, my mother
having been the cousin to a wealthy nobleman. I can help you learn
what you need to know, and I would be honoured to do so.”

I smiled at her. “I
must have done something very right in the eyes of the Gods that I
would be blessed first with Kurit’s love and now with a kind friend
such as yourself. I am allowed to think of you as a friend, aren’t
I?”

She nodded. “If it
pleases you, then I would appreciate it, yes.” After a moment of
silence, she said, “Now shall I continue with the dresses, or are
you too tired? It is a late hour already.”

I told her I’d rather
continue the next day, when hopefully I’d be allowed to be out of
bed long enough to actually try them on and see them in the
daylight from the window. She agreed, tidied up the pile left to be
decided upon, and bade me goodnight as she left with those dresses
that had been rejected.

IT WAS NOT long until I
was back on my feet more often than I was in bed. The blue dress
Leiset had shown me fit, although it was rather snug around the
chest and upper arms. I loved it so much, though, that we asked the
tailor to make one suited to my measurements.

The first day I wore
the dress was to be the day I would first be allowed to walk about
the palace. Kurit arrived at my door in the early afternoon just as
Leiset finished pinning my hair into an elegant style that I could
never have achieved on my own.

Kurit beamed as I rose
to face him, his face lit up with some mysterious joy.

“What is it, Kurit? You
look positively boyish,” I said.

He shrugged
mischievously. “Am I less a man today?”

“No.” I laughed. “Not
at all. It’s rather endearing.”

“Perhaps it’s because I
have a gift for you.”

“A gift?” I couldn’t
imagine what he would have for me, and I saw nothing in his hands.
“Why?”

“A man shouldn’t need a
reason to bring gifts to his beloved. Here,” he said, pulling a
small packet from his pocket. He opened it in front of me and
poured into his hand a pretty gold chain with an exquisitely
wrought gold pendant in the shape of two entwined hearts.

I looked at his eyes;
they were filled with a boyish sweetness as he unravelled the chain
and held it before me.

“It’s beautiful,” I
whispered as he stepped behind me to affix it about my neck.

“I know it’s not very
fancy nor expensive,” he said as he fumbled with the clasp, “but I
looked at the more luxurious pieces and thought, ‘No, it’s too
soon—she’ll be uncomfortable with that.’ But this looked simple and
elegant, and I thought it a little romantic as well, perhaps.”

I looked at it in the
mirror and raised my hand to touch it against my chest. It sat
beautifully against the deep blue material of the dress.

“Do you like it?” he
asked as I stared. “Because if you don’t—”

“It’s perfect,” I said.
I turned to him, determined not to well up with tears yet again—I
had been doing far too much of that lately, and the mental image of
my constant weeping was starting to make me ill. “It’s perfect, and
very thoughtful.” I turned to show Leiset.

She nodded politely to
Kurit and said, “A splendid choice, Your Highness.”

I faced Kurit again and
emphatically said, “Thank you. It means a great deal to me.”

He beamed again, very
pleased with himself, and deservedly so. Taking my hands in his, he
looked over my shoulder to Leiset and said, somewhat mockingly,
“What say you, maid who guards sweet Aenna’s virtue, may I give my
love a kiss?”

I heard Leiset behind
me reply in a similarly mocking tone, “I must turn my back for a
moment—and just one moment—to put this hairbrush away.”

I knew she had turned
when Kurit swooped in for a hurried yet delightful kiss. And I knew
when she had turned back a moment later when I saw him cast his
eyes quickly away as if playing innocent. He looked absolutely
ridiculous, and I loved him for it.

For the next two hours,
Kurit and Leiset gave me a tour of the palace. I saw the Great
Hall, where court was held and the King and Queen sat on their
thrones; a splendid ballroom of absolutely breathtaking
architecture and decoration; a gallery of art and historical
relics; an enormous library with shelves so high that ladders were
left about everywhere; and a myriad of other rooms, all beautiful
and elegant. I was introduced to so many people, from servants to
nobility, that I could not possibly recall any of their names. Most
were polite, though some of the noblewomen cast harsh glances in my
direction and whispered behind me as we left.