Midnight in Everwood(49)
She didn’t seek Claren’s assistance; his na?vety on the king’s nature and position amongst his ranks would only jeopardise her. Besides, what power did one individual hold to subvert the magic regulating the kings’ commands? No, she required a greater plot. Marietta continued to think and Claren fell silent until she entered the suite, where he bid her goodbye and the guards locked the door with a golden key.
She stood and surveyed the suite. She had a sudden sympathy for Persephone descending into Hades’ underworld; she too had drawn the lot of mists and darkness. For here she stood, imprisoned in the gilded cage she had fought her life to avoid.
Marietta found herself falling into a routine over the following weeks. Life cannot be suppressed indefinitely and so it began to take on a new rhythm. Pastimes were scarce in the opulent suite, confined to ornamenting themselves in enchanted creations and allowing Dellara to paint their faces, their skin the canvas of her creations, swimming lengths and languishing in the bathing pool, or conversing among themselves. It was the latter that Marietta was most invested in. Pirlipata and Dellara had proven themselves an infinite resource in their knowledge of the palace and Everwood, and Marietta was determined to unveil its secrets.
‘I wish I had a book in which to lose myself,’ she said, dipping a pastry into a glass of molten chocolate. From the corner of her eye, she caught the glance Pirlipata and Dellara exchanged.
Pirlipata was first to speak. ‘I once was particularly fond of the tale of the first armoured princess, Ithye. She is the star I look to and I hope one day to be worthy of gaining a place amidst her constellation of protectors.’
Marietta thought back to her dinner with the captain and how he’d spoken of the stars. ‘Why are the stars important to you? What is your relationship with them?’
‘We believe that the spirits of our loved ones join the constellations when we pass from this world,’ Dellara said. ‘All the tales of our world are bound up in our stars. We’re taught them from the day we’re born and they’re the last thought the day we die. Our fates are written in the stars.’
Pirlipata inclined her head. ‘Each of us possess a starname, too. A secret name no one knows as long as we live, save those we choose to entwine our lives with forevermore. Our starnames become known once we have ascended into the skies. They are who we shall become in our final place, resting in the skies.’
‘Who selects your starname?’ Marietta asked.
‘We do,’ Dellara said. ‘We are responsible for gifting ourselves with a name once we truly understand who we are. It’s an empowering act, stepping into your own identity, forging a deeper empathy with yourself.’
‘I like that,’ Marietta said, wishing they had an equivalency in her world. Though Everwood had become her prison, she had seen how Claren was treated no differently for whom he chose to spend a night with. How Pirlipata wasn’t judged on the basis of her skin colour. Yes, Everwood was her prison, but Frederick and Geoffrey and Harriet couldn’t escape theirs, thanks to social convention. She set her half-eaten pastry down. The tray swam in melted chocolate and frozen cream. ‘Do tell me more about these armoured princesses.’
‘In Crackatuck, we have a long tradition of armoured princesses.’ Pirlipata slid her golden cape down her shoulders, revealing her arms, as sculpted with muscle as the Farnese Hercules. ‘The future belongs to us and so we must be willing and able to protect it, our swords and minds both sharpened blades. All rulers are educated at university and trained in the art of sword fighting. My armour was red. As fiery as the sunsets that ripple across our land and the last colour you see before the all-encompassing darkness.’
Marietta pictured Pirlipata encased in red, her dark hair around her head like a halo topping her armour. ‘Where is it located presently?’
‘King Gelum is in possession of it. When the day comes for me to reclaim it, he will pay for each day I have been without it. For each day I have been clothed in gold rather than red.’
Dellara’s eyes darkened to a maw. ‘Red for the blood we’ll spill in the streets, red for the rebellion,’ she chanted beneath her breath.
‘So there is a rebellion,’ Marietta said. ‘Am I to retain a hope that they will set us free?’
The shadows whispered into Dellara’s sclera. ‘Being exposed for a member of the rebellion costs those brave individuals their lives in the bloodiest of executions. It is a habit of mine to hold an ear to the palace gossip, yet no one seems to be aware of either their true numbers nor where they are based. It’s a rebellion mired in secrecy and fear and anger. I’ve heard tell that the sole sign of a rebeller is a curl of scarlet satin they carry secreted about their person.’ She shrugged and reached for a pastry. ‘I’m not certain whether there is any truth to that though.’
Marietta silently thought back to the red curl that had fallen from inside the captain’s tunic which he’d passed off as a token of affection. She vowed to discover what he was hiding. Perhaps it could be the very thing that would help her escape this palace.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The king’s party meandered their way into the heart of Everwood, where a large space was cleared beside the frozen lake. Sugar swans glided upon the ice, enchanted to serenade the spectators that stood in regimented rows. The soldiers of the King’s Army maintained the perimeter as the Faceless Guards undertook surrounding and protecting the king himself. Marietta’s heartbeat was as delicate as hoarfrost. She turned her gaze to the distant firs, signalling the boundary of the Endless Forest.