The False Prince (The Ascendance Trilogy #1)(44)
Making us worthy servants included trimming the uneven ends of our hair so that it would tie back neatly, filing our nails, and lecturing us on the importance of always standing up straight around anyone we served.
Unfortunately for Errol’s best efforts on my behalf, the shorter side of my hair refused to stay out of my face. Finally, he gave up and told me to keep it pushed back whenever I was around the princess. We both knew I probably wouldn’t.
When we were finished, they placed us in front of mirrors. Our white undershirts were cut closer to the arms, to avoid the sleeves touching any of the food as it was served. The vests we wore over them were simple, earth-colored, and laced up the front, and the boots were low and secondhand.
I snorted a laugh. “Everything here is about costumes. We don’t know the first thing about being servants, but they’ve certainly dressed us for the part.”
“This is my part,” Tobias mumbled beside me. “Now.”
“I like them.” Roden twisted in an attempt to see how he looked from the back. “It’s easier to move in these than the clothes Conner has had us in all week.”
Mott entered the room and surveyed each of us. I wondered if he’d polished his bald head. It looked shinier than usual, and he wore clothes nearly as fancy as Conner’s. He was to be distinguished tonight as something more than a servant, though still not worthy to sit at the table. With a very stern voice, he said, “As long as none of you does anything stupid, I believe tonight will be successful. Here are some things each of you must remember. Never address a master first and never look them in the eye unless they are speaking specifically to you. You follow my directions and never take any initiative with the princess unless I order it.” Looking straight at me, Mott added, “You three must remember that you are in disguise. The worst thing that could happen would be for the princess to remember meeting you here tonight after you are presented at court. That cut is still evident on your face, Sage.”
“It’ll be healed by the time I’m presented at court,” I said. “Besides, Imogen once served us with a bruise on her cheek, so this should only help me fit in better with the other servants.”
Mott didn’t rise to my remark. “And how are the wounds on your back, specifically the one caused by the … window?”
“If I’d had more to eat today, they’d probably be healing faster.”
Mott smirked and glanced at Errol for an answer. “No signs of infection, sir,” Errol reported.
“That’s good,” Mott said. “Because I’d expect a dirty window to have caused infection. I did hear that a knife was missing from the kitchen last night, one of the chef’s sharpest blades. Those are kept very clean.”
“Only one knife was missing?” Tobias glanced at me and then quickly looked away when I tilted my head in response to his silent question. He whispered something under his breath, I’m sure some sort of curse aimed at me. That wasn’t a problem. The devils were used to receiving curses with my name on them.
“One knife,” Mott said, walking over to stand directly in front of Tobias. “With a blade about as long as Sage’s wound. Do you know anything about it?”
Tobias took a step backward, and his eyes darted around as he searched for a response, but I spoke up. “None of us would know where the chef misplaced the knife. And fortunately, I have no intention of going out that particular window again, so there should be no injuries in the future.”
Mott scoffed, making it clear he didn’t believe me, but all he said was, “Line up behind your servants, boys. The dinner will be ready soon.”
Conner’s dinner that night was served in the great hall, not the dining room where we’d eaten all week. Several guests were already there, but the princess and her parents, who apparently had accompanied her to Farthenwood, had not yet entered.
I was assigned as a door servant, with no apparent function other than to stand beside the doors of the great hall and observe as other servants came and went. Tobias’s and Roden’s assignment was no better. They stood at the far end of the room, tasked with the job of closing the curtains if the setting sun got in anyone’s eyes.
Mott announced Princess Amarinda’s arrival, along with the entrance of her parents and some of their courtiers.
Amarinda was as beautiful as Conner had described her, with chestnut brown hair swept away from her face and falling in thick curls down her back, and piercing brown eyes that absorbed her surroundings. As she recognized Conner, her entire face lit up with a smile that was warm and inviting. Here, in Conner’s home, the guest had made the owner feel welcome.
Conner stood, along with the others at his table, and bowed to Princess Amarinda and to her parents. Master Graves had told us about them, and how Amarinda came to be the betrothed princess.
The alliance between Amarinda and the house of King Eckbert was made at her birth. She was three years younger than Darius, and the product of a lengthy search by Eckbert. He wanted a foreign girl whose connections were powerful enough to forge a marriage that would create a bond between her country and Carthya, but not a direct heir to the throne, who would have political ambitions of her own.
Amarinda was a niece to the king of Bymar. Before she was even old enough to crawl as an infant, her parents had promised her to whoever inherited Eckbert’s throne, most likely Darius. And although she’d never been given a choice in marriage, the older Amarinda became, the more her admiration for Darius grew. Both were said to be eager for the time when she would be of age and they could marry.