Ivetta’s plan for Jin and Theresa worked too well. I couldn’t escape them. The moments when I had the misfortune of being in my room with Theresa and Ivetta were filled with a constant stream of commentary about Jin, most of it from Theresa, with a tendency to reveal far more than I cared to hear. Jin wasn’t much better. He had always been one to brag about his latest conquest, and even though Theresa was clearly more than a one-night stand for him, he wasn’t withholding any details. But just talking about it wasn’t enough. Neither of them were shy about displaying physical affection in front of anybody and everybody.
Rhodolite Foundation Day couldn’t come fast enough. Only a week of Jin and Theresa, and I already had enough.
“Theresa, stop,” Ivetta said firmly the morning of Rhodolite Foundation Day, her voice easily reaching my ears in the bathroom where I was getting ready for the day. Unfortunately, that meant I could easily hear Theresa, too.
“No, Ivetta, you just don’t understand. That body-”
“Is not something I want to hear about,” Ivetta said quickly. “I’m quite happy with Chevalier, and I really don’t want to look at Jin and imagine him shirtless.”
Theresa giggled. “If you saw him without his shirt, you’d forget about King Chevalier.”
I highly doubted that. Jin had a bulkier, more muscular frame than mine, but Ivetta had never had eyes for him, in the same way I didn’t care for Theresa’s more voluptuous figure as compared to Ivetta’s slender frame.
There was a knock at the bedroom door.
“That’s him!” Theresa squealed.
“Theresa-” Ivetta started, but the door was already opening, and I was strapping my sword around my hips. Enough was enough.
“Good morning,” Theresa said shyly.
“Good morning, hot stuff,” Jin replied in a low, sultry voice.
I exited the bathroom as he grabbed Theresa around her waist and kissed her passionately. She cupped his face in her hands, and he lifted her into the air, uncaring about anybody else around. I stormed over to them, shoving at Theresa’s back to push them out the door, and I slammed it hard behind them.
“Thank you,” Ivetta said, sighing in relief. She was seated at her vanity, her hair only half done.
“That cannot continue,” I said, coming up behind her and picking up her hairbrush.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I’ve seen her do this often enough,” I replied. Theresa had started two braids on either side of Ivetta’s forehead, wrapping around to the back, where they joined to become one. Or they were supposed to join to become one. Theresa hadn’t finished the two side braids before Jin interrupted her, and both of us knew she wouldn’t be coming back to finish. It was a simple enough style to replicate, leaving most of Ivetta’s hair down the way I preferred, but keeping it out of her face.
“I’ll talk to her tomorrow,” Ivetta said tiredly. “There’s no point in talking to her today. She and Jin are probably halfway to his room by now, and I’d rather think about going to the festival with you.” Her face lit up in the mirror. “Do you think that bookseller will be there, Mr…Mr. Schiesler?”
“He’s there every year,” I confirmed. And this year, I contacted him ahead of time with a special order.
Ivetta curled her fingers into her skirt, practically squirming in her seat with excitement. She was wearing the green dress I gave her for her birthday, I noted with satisfaction.
“I wonder if he has anything else from Garnet?” she mused aloud.
I set the hairbrush down and pulled her to her feet, careful not to allow any change in my expression to give the surprise away. “Let’s go.”
“Are you sure you want to go so early? We could go later in the afternoon, if you’d prefer,” she said, smoothing the front of my jacket.
“The crowd will be at its thinnest now.” I slid an arm around her waist and caught her chin, tilting it up to make her look at me. “It will be easier for your guards to keep track of you.”
“Do they really need to come along?” she asked, her green eyes searching mine.
“This festival draws people from all across Rhodolite. Not all of them are trustworthy, and security is difficult in crowds.” I leaned in and kissed her gently. “Your guards will be out of uniform and scattered throughout the square. You won’t even know they’re there.”
A smile spread over her face again. “And I’ll be with you the whole time,” she replied, returning my kiss. “So you don’t need to worry about anything. Shall we go?”
Her excitement peaked in the carriage, and she was actually squirming next to me, a far cry from the frightened little maid who sat across from me on this trip last year.
“Ivetta, relax,” I said, smiling down at her bright green eyes.
“Sorry, I’m just so excited,” she replied, beaming up at me. “Last year, I didn’t know what to think about you inviting me to the festival, and then you were so nice, and I had such a great time. That was when Mother started to like you, too, when I came home that night and told her about it all.”
Her exuberance made me chuckle. “I was thinking that you would enjoy the festival, and I didn’t want to leave you alone with Nokto.”
She wrapped her hands around my arm and rested her cheek on my shoulder. “You were always looking out for me, weren’t you?”
“Unintentionally at first, but yes.” The carriage jostled to a stop, and I reached for the door. “Stay close to me.”
“Just try to get rid of me,” she teased.
We immediately encountered a problem. The crowds were thinner than we had experienced the previous year, as I expected at this time of day, but Ivetta was quite popular, and people knew her on sight from her birthday party. They kept their distance from me, but they pressed in to see her, bowing, curtseying, greeting her by name. I didn’t like it, and I could tell by her grip on my arm that it made her uncomfortable, too. Julius was about ten feet away from us, dressed in normal clothes, his brows furrowed as his eyes scanned the crowd around us. The rest of her guards were around as well, tense and concerned.
I could handle this myself, or I could let her guards step in. But there was another solution.
“Ivetta,” I said, drawing her attention back to me.
She looked up at me, and I could see the uncertainty leaving her face as her confident smile returned. She looked back at the crowd and said, “It’s good to see all of you, but if you’ll excuse us, we’d like to enjoy the festival, too.”
Much more pleasant than what I would have said, and equally effective. We were given our space, along with knowing smiles instead of the looks of fear I was used to seeing. I led Ivetta to the first booth I saw, a flower booth, glancing around to see her guards casually following.
“What’s this?” Ivetta asked curiously, blissfully unaware.
I took a rose from the shopkeeper and wound it through one of her braids. “You are the queen of the kingdom of roses.”
The shopkeeper held up a mirror, beaming from ear to ear as she showed Ivetta. There were wreaths, crowns, corsages, and all other manner of rose decorations, but the simple red rose was all the adornment Ivetta needed. That and her smile, which was on full display as I paid.
“We should get something to drink next,” she said, taking my arm again as I led her back out into the square. “I wonder if…Joe!”
The barkeeper that caught her eye had a beefy red face, putting me in mind of her neighbor, John Stotts. His bright blue eyes stood out in stark contrast as he waved us over.
“Ivetta! Or should I say, Queen Ivetta! Is it still apple cider?”
“Yes, please. Do you want something, Chevalier?” she asked, looking up at me.
I scanned the taps and settled on the most popular option. “Ale.”
“Ale for the king, apple cider for the queen, coming up!” Joe went to the taps, filling our mugs, and Ivetta glanced at the few men hanging around the bar. It wasn’t too crowded yet this early in the day.
“No Leon yet,” she mused.
“He’ll be along later,” I replied.
She looked up at me again. “You timed it so we wouldn’t run into him, didn’t you?” she asked, smiling knowingly.
“He was obnoxious last year,” I replied dismissively.
“One ale, one apple cider,” Joe announced, setting the mugs on the bar in front of us. I paid, and we took our drinks as we walked leisurely around the square, studying most of the booths from a distance.
“Oh, can we look at that one?” Ivetta asked, tugging me toward a clothing booth. She set her mug down on the counter and fingered a dress with red roses on a background of white. “Does this come in long sleeves with a full skirt?” she asked the shopkeeper, a pudgy woman a bit taller than her with a vibrant rose wreath atop her short blonde hair.
“Well, no, all of these are spring and summer dresses,” she replied, taken aback by Ivetta’s question.
“Oh. That’s too bad,” Ivetta said with a sigh, her face falling as she dropped the fabric.
“But it would look stunning on you,” the shopkeeper pressed on, trying to hold Ivetta’s interest.
It would. Even if she didn’t feel comfortable wearing it in public, I saw her eyes light up when she saw it across the square, and I saw the touch of sadness in her green eyes as she picked up her mug and turned to go.
“We’ll take it,” I said.
Ivetta looked up at me quickly, shaking her head. “Chevalier-”
“You want it, do you not?”
“I can’t wear that,” she whispered nervously, glancing back at the shopkeeper.
“Oh, but you must!” the shopkeeper insisted. She pulled the dress off the rack and came around the counter to hold it up to Ivetta. “You’ll need a smaller size, of course.”
“No, you don’t understand-”
“It’s fine, Ivetta,” I said quietly.
“Come, come, you can try it on inside,” the shopkeeper said, taking Ivetta’s hand and dragging her into the building behind the stall. Ivetta clutched desperately at my arm, anxiety flickering in her eyes.
“I - I really can’t-”
Maybe this was a mistake.
“You wait here,” the shopkeeper said to me, pulling Ivetta away behind a curtain.
My stomach dropped as I saw the look of panic in her eyes. This was definitely a mistake.
“Oh, this will look so wonderful on you!” the shopkeeper was saying, too focused on a potential sale to notice Ivetta’s sudden irrational fear.
I brushed the curtain aside and pushed the shopkeeper out of my way. Ivetta was shaking and staring at the floor. “Wait outside,” I said firmly, not sparing the shopkeeper a single glance as I rested a light hand on Ivetta’s upper back. Her eyes darted to the shopkeeper and back to the floor.
“What?” the shopkeeper asked, startled.
“Outside. Now,” I repeated, fixing her with a piercing glare.
She left in a hurry. I pulled Ivetta into a tight embrace, her small frame seeming even smaller as she trembled in my arms. She buried her face in my chest, digging her fingers into the fabric of my jacket.
“Why did you do that?” she whispered, her voice as shaky as the rest of her. “You know I can’t wear that. Why did you do that?”
“You can wear it for me,” I murmured. “We can have it altered, or you can wear gloves and stockings. Whatever you want.”
“What I want is to not have any scars,” she whispered. “What I want is to be able to wear a dress like that without worrying what people will think.”
So that was it. She was terrified of anybody seeing her scars. I sighed and removed one arm from her waist, catching her chin and tilting it up to see her face. Her green eyes pleaded with me to understand, and I did. I understood that she always thought there was something wrong with her, that she wasn’t good enough.
“If you don’t want it, we don’t have to buy it. But I would like to see you try it on.”
She searched my face, her eyes wide and her lips slightly parted, and the trembling gradually subsided. She took a deep breath and nodded.
It was a nice dress, the style fitting for women and girls. The short sleeves were a bit poofy over the shoulders, the neckline was modest, the bodice was fairly loose and breathable, and the pleated skirt ended just above the knees. It suited Ivetta well. The smile on her face when she finally looked in the mirror suited her better.
“It wouldn’t really look right with gloves or stockings,” she said, studying her reflection. “And the style isn’t right for long sleeves or a floor-length skirt.”
“We can still buy it,” I replied, standing behind her and running my hands down her arms. “Your scars are fading.”
She bit her lip nervously. “That doesn’t mean they’ll ever go away completely.”
“Then this will be for my eyes only,” I said, leaning in to kiss her cheek.
“I could wear it at the chateau next year,” she said, a faint dusting of pink coloring her cheeks at the thought.
“Or in the gardens this afternoon.”
Her eyes widened again. “But the servants-”
“It’s a holiday, Ivetta,” I said firmly, stopping her before she could talk herself into a panic again. “How many people did you see in the gardens or the palace last year on this day?”
“Not many,” she admitted, fidgeting with the skirt.
“So?”
She sighed and smiled reluctantly. “Okay, we can get it. Now help me get changed.”
I did, glad that she was at least calmer now, but she was still nervous and on edge. It may be best to cut our time at the festival short and continue this discussion in the privacy of our room.
“Is everything okay?” the shopkeeper asked nervously when we finally emerged into the sunlight.
“Yes,” I replied. “How much?”
Our mugs were still on the counter where we left them. I didn’t even think about it when Ivetta picked hers up and lifted it to her lips, pulling my coin purse from my pocket to pay.
“Excuse me,” Julius said, appearing at Ivetta’s side and grabbing the mug from her before she took a drink.
“Julius?” she asked, her green eyes widening in surprise.
“I’ll get you a new one,” he said simply, picking up my mug as well and disappearing into the crowd.
I frowned, irritated with myself for making such a simple mistake. Ivetta was nearly poisoned last year. I let my guard down, too focused on her anxiety to pay attention to our surroundings. But that was why Julius was here, wasn’t it? So I could relax with Ivetta and let them handle her safety.
“Maybe we should go,” Ivetta said quietly, clinging to my arm.
My tension wasn’t helping her.
“He is taking extra precautions,” I reassured her, although I had my doubts. “I have something I’d like to show you, and then we can go after that, if you like.”
She nodded reluctantly, her eyes scanning the crowd anxiously.
“It won’t take long,” I added, leading her to the bookstall.
“Ah, if it isn’t the royal couple themselves!” Stefan Schiesler exclaimed when he saw us. “It took some work, but I am pleased to say I was able to fulfill your order, King Chevalier.” He motioned to a large wooden crate behind the counter. I waited with bated breath as he pried the lid off.
“Are those all from Garnet?” Ivetta asked excitedly, all fear forgotten.
“Indeed, they are. Survivors of the palace library, scattered in and around rare bookstores in Obsidian,” Stefan said proudly.
“Chevalier!” Ivetta gasped, looking up at me with shining eyes.
“Now we can go,” I said, smiling down at her. “I’ll have someone collect this later.”
“Fresh apple cider and fresh ale, coming up!” Julius announced, appearing beside us again with new mugs. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, Queen Ivetta, but I don’t trust drinks left unattended.”
“Thank you,” she said, relaxed and happy again.
I looked over her head at Julius. He shook his head and lifted his shoulders, almost imperceptibly.
Just a precaution, then.
“Chevalier,” Ivetta said, looking up at me, “could we get a funnel cake before we go?”
The books seemed to pull her out of her own thoughts, but I didn’t want to stay long enough for something to bother her again. Stopping to get a funnel cake wouldn’t take too long, though, and if it made her happy, I wanted her to have it. I nodded and tapped the crate with my foot. “Julius, have some men bring this to the palace library after we leave.”
“Yes, your highness.”
There were no further incidents, although I didn’t prolong our stay any further. We enjoyed our drinks, we shared a funnel cake, and we boarded a carriage back to the palace. She cuddled up to me as soon as the carriage started to move. My mood was lifting with hers, and I noticed she was holding her hands oddly in her lap - palms up, careful not to touch her fingers to her dress. I smirked. This was something I’d been looking forward to. I took one of her hands and brought it to my mouth, meeting her sparkling green eyes as I licked her sugary fingers.
“Hey, that tickles,” she protested between giggles, squirming next to me.
“I couldn’t do this last year,” I replied, moving on to another finger.
“Who said you can do it this year?” she retorted.
“Do you want me to stop?” I asked teasingly.
She giggled. “Of course not.”
I continued licking her fingers, enjoying her squirming and giggling, but there was a point when something changed. She suddenly fell quiet, and I stopped to follow her gaze, fixed on the dress folded on the opposite seat of the carriage.
“I’m sorry about the dress,” she said quietly. “I don’t really know what came over me.”
She was as frustrating this year as she was last year, though for entirely different reasons.
“People know about your scars, Ivetta.”
“Well, yes, the doctor knows, and Theresa, and your brothers, but I don’t want anybody else to know,” she replied, not meeting my eyes.
“And the seamstresses, the foreign princes, and Belle,” I reminded her. “There may be more. You don’t have to hide them.”
“I don’t have to show them, either,” she retorted, her fingers twisting nervously into her skirt.
The carriage jostled to a stop as I sighed. “Come.” I opened the carriage door and stepped out, picking up the dress on the way and turning back to offer her a hand.
“I need to get cleaned up,” she said, studying her free hand as I led her inside. “And then we can get lunch, and - will the new books be in the library by then?”
She was trying to pretend nothing was wrong. This had to be addressed, but not until we got back to our room.
“Yes.”
“So we can read our new books in the gardens.” She sighed and rested her cheek on my shoulder. “Thank you for a wonderful day, Chevalier.”
I chuckled. “Isn’t it a bit early to say that?”
“No, because I know you’re going to keep making it wonderful,” she replied, smiling up at me.
That was my intention. Starting as soon as we got back to her room, with me reminding her exactly what I thought of her.24Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKNQoyVivK1
