Gild (The Plated Prisoner #1) - Raven Kennedy Page 0,9
at all the racks of gowns hanging up in the room, my eyes searching through them. They’re all made with gold thread and fabric of course. As Midas’s favored, I’m never seen in anything less.
Walking over to the back, I pick one with an empire waist and a non-existent back. All of my dresses have no backs. It’s necessary because of my ribbons.
I call them ribbons for lack of a better word. I have two dozen long golden ribbons that sprout out on both sides of my spine, spanning the entire length, from my shoulders to my tailbone. They’re long too, so they drape to the floor like a train on a gown, dragging behind me as I walk.
That’s what most people think they are—just extra fabric from my dresses. They have no idea that they’re actually attached to me. And honestly, it was a surprise to me as well. I grew them right before Midas saved me. It wasn’t painless, either. I went through weeks of night sweats and burning pain as they grew from my back, slowly lengthening each day until they finally stopped.
As far as I know, I’m the only person in Orea with ribbons. All the royals have magic, of course. They can’t take the crown without it. Some commoners have magic too. I once saw a jester who could make the flares of light emit from his fingers every time he snapped or clapped. A nice little night show for shadow puppets on the wall.
But as far as my ribbons, they aren’t just pretty or unusual. They aren’t just a throne room trick. They’re prehensile. I can control them like I can control my own limbs. Usually, I just let them drape behind me like supple fabric, but I can also move each one when I want to, and they’re stronger than they look.
Lifting off my night dress, I leave the wrinkled fabric in the pile near the bars where the maids can come to pick it up later for washing. I pull on the new gown, adjusting the drapery to lay just right and cover everything that should be covered.
Sitting down at the vanity table, I look into the mirrored glass. My ribbons raise behind me, threading through my hair and braiding it into intricate weaving plaits until it looks like I have a net of braids resting against the crown of my head, and then every long golden strand that was hanging down my back gets woven up at the nape of my neck.
It’s a lot of hair, but since the king is possessive of me, he doesn’t let anyone near me. Not even the barber. Which means I always have to give myself haircuts, and I suck at it.
After one particularly tragic haircut incident, I had lopsided bangs for two months before they finally grew out long enough to tuck behind my ears. It was not cute. I’ve tried to avoid the scissors as much as possible since that debacle and just trim my dead ends because I learned my lesson.
Though, to be fair, I’m not sure even straight bangs would’ve been a good thing. One should never decide something as serious as bangs when they have a bottle of wine in their stomachs.
Once my hair is tightly woven against my scalp, I get up from the table and walk back into my bedroom, just in time for a servant to walk in. She addresses Digby, slightly out of breath from her climb upstairs. “King Midas has summoned the favored to the breakfast room.”
Digby nods at her, and the woman scurries away, a fleeting glance over at me before she disappears through the door. “Ready?” Digby asks me.
I look around and tap a finger to my lip. “I actually need to run a few errands before I head over. See some people, do some things. I’m very busy, you know,” I tell him, my lips curling up in amusement.
Digby doesn’t fall into banter with me though. The man doesn’t even smile. All I get back is a patient stare.
I sigh. “Are you ever going to start laughing at my jokes, Dig?”
A slow shake of his head. “No.”
“One of these days. I’m going to finally crack that gruff guard façade. Just you wait.”
“If you say so, Lady Auren. Are you ready? We shouldn’t keep His Majesty waiting.”
I blow out a breath, wishing my headache would subside a little bit more before I have to face King Fulke. “Fine. Yes, I’m ready. But you