The Beauty of Darkness - Mary E. Pearson Page 0,36

and everything Rafe and I had done had gone against that order.

I wondered where he was. Had he finally gotten some rest too? Or was he meeting with Colonel Bodeen and hearing the circumstances of his parents’ deaths? Would his comrades forgive him for his absence? Would they forgive me?

“You’re awake.”

I spun, clutching the blanket close to my chest. Madam Rathbone stood in the doorway.

“The prince—I mean, the king—was by earlier to check on you.”

My heart leapt. “Does he need—”

The women flooded into the room, assuring me he had no immediate needs, and they proceeded to help me dress. Madam Rathbone sat me down at her dressing table, and Adeline brushed out my tangles, her fingers moving with swift assurance, threading through my hair as effortlessly as an accomplished harpist, plucking multiple strands at once, braiding it with a rhythm as easy as a whistled tune, while at the same time weaving it with a sparkling gold thread.

When she was finished, Vilah lifted a loose dress over my head, something fine and flowing and as creamy as warm summer wind. Now I knew what I’d heard about Dalbreck and their love affair with fine fabrics and clothing was true. Next came a soft leather vest that laced up the back, embossed with a gold filigree design. It was more of a symbolic gesture of a breastplate, for it covered little of my breasts. Next Madam Rathbone tied a simple black satin sash low on my hips so it flowed almost to the floor. It all seemed far too elegant for an outpost, and I imagined that if the gods wore any clothes at all, they looked something like this.

I thought they were done, and I was about to thank them and excuse myself so I could find Rafe, but they weren’t ready to let me go. They moved on to jewelry. Adeline slipped an intricate lacy ring on my finger that had tiny chains on one end connecting it to a bracelet she fastened around my wrist. Vilah dabbed perfume on my wrists, then Madam Rathbone fastened a shimmering gold chain-mail belt over the black sash and—maybe most surprising of all—slipped a sharp dagger into its sheath. Last came a gold pauldron that flared out on my shoulder like a wing. Every touch was beautiful, but clearly the armor was more decorative than utilitarian. It heralded a kingdom whose history was built on strength and battle. Perhaps it was a kingdom that never forgot it began when a prince was thrown out of his homeland. They were determined that no one would question their strength again.

But all this for dinner at an outpost? I didn’t mention the extravagance, fearing I might sound ungrateful, but Madam Rathbone was perceptive and said, “Colonel Bodeen sets a fine table. You’ll see.”

I looked at their efforts in the mirror. I hardly recognized myself. This still seemed to be far more than just making me presentable for a dinner party—no matter how fine a meal.

“I don’t understand,” I said. “I rode in prepared to be met with animosity, and instead you’ve shown me compassion. I’m the princess who left your prince at the altar. None of you harbor resentment toward me?”

Vilah and Adeline averted their gazes as if uncomfortable with my question. Madam Rathbone frowned.

“We did. And certainly a few others still do, but…” She turned to Vilah and Adeline. “Ladies, why don’t you go and dress for dinner too. Her Highness and I will be along.”

When Adeline had shut the door behind them, Madam Rathbone looked at me and sighed. “For me it was a small omission of kindness that had accrued interest, I suppose.”

I looked at her, confused.

“I met your mother once many years ago. You look so much like her.”

“You’ve been to Morrighan?”

She shook her head. “No. It was before she ever arrived there. I was a maid working at an inn in Cortenai, and she was nobility from Gastineux on her way to marry the king of Morrighan.”

I sat down on the edge of the bed. I knew so little about that journey. My mother never spoke about it.

Madam Rathbone crossed the room, replacing the stopper on the perfume. She continued to put the finishing touches on her own attire as she spoke. “I was twenty-two at the time, and the inn was in near chaos with the arrival of the Lady Regheena. She stayed only one night, but the innkeeper sent me to her room with a crock of sweetened