Лия Арден – Mara and Morok (страница 10)

So, I thrust my handcuffed hands under his nose again. I wonder if he’s really going to throw me to his father’s feet, chained and humiliated, like a trophy.

Daniel looks me up and down and turns to Morok.

“Do you think we should expect any surprises from our dear Agatha?”

“I don’t think so. But I would have a guard at her side at all times while she’s in the palace. Someone you can trust.”

“Right…” The prince is contemplating the suggestion and I’m shivering in the chilly air, looking from one man to the other. Whatever they decide, I wish they would do it soon. “Thank you, Morok, you may go.”

Morok nods, turns around noiselessly and goes back down the stairs. He takes the bridles of my white steed and his own black mount and leads them away, to the stables, I suppose. It dawns on me that he’s not going into the palace with us. That realization makes me anxious. Morok is scary but I’ve gotten used to having him around. He’s the only one among all my guards who has similar powers to mine and does not belong to this world. And now I’m completely alone, again.

The moment I step over the threshold, through the enormous wooden gates, a wave of old unwelcome memories washes over me. I can see the richly decorated halls of another palace and other heavy gates that became the last obstacle between me and my revenge. The obstacle I couldn’t overcome. Fear and fury rise up in me and are about to take over but I make myself breathe in, breathe out, and return to the present.

Immediately past the entrance, we find ourselves in a gigantic hall. The doors on the left are locked but there is a suite of rooms stretching before us on the right. I can also see another marble staircase covered with red-velvet carpet, leading to the second floor. The walls are painted in gold and crimson with little silver elements here and there. The columns are adorned with grapevines, also made of gold. And when I look up, I see the ceiling decorated with stucco and massive, gilded chandeliers that seem to be pressing down on you, even though they are many feet above your head. Everything looks too expensive and oversized.

The prince interrupts my thoughts. “You’re right, Agatha, it would be wrong to drag you to my father in chains. Come along.”

I follow him upstairs. On the second floor, the prince turns right into a long corridor. It’s darker here as there are no windows, but there are enough candles mounted on the walls to be able to get around. We walk the whole length of the hall and stop in front of a carved, wooden door which is no different from the other five we’ve just passed.

“This will be your room.”

I don’t have time to answer as he flings the door open and I find myself squinting, expecting it to look like a prison cell, apart from the gold on the walls. But to my surprise, when I peek in, all I can see is a simple room in deep green shades. There are just a few gold touches, but that much I can take.

“No red?” I arch an eyebrow and turn to Daniel.

“Sorry, Agatha,” he smirks, “we didn’t have time to create a room especially for you, but you will find plenty of red in your wardrobe. I will send you maids; they will help you wash and change. I will be back in an hour.”

He takes off the manacles, somewhat reluctantly, and nods.

“But please don’t go telling the servants you’re dead, you’ll just scare them off.”

“I don’t believe I’m able to unscrew my head and stuff it under my arm.” I roll my eyes remembering the rumors he’d shared with me about Maras.

Uncharacteristically, the Prince doesn’t smile, just shoots me a searching look, turns on his heels and leaves. Now I can look around properly. The room is not big, but there are two large windows opposite the door. They reach almost to the floor, so the room must be bathed in sunlight during the day. In the middle of the room stands a massive four-poster bed. Next to the bed is a dressing-table, and a little further, a wardrobe. A huge, crystal chandelier hangs from the ceiling and I am careful not to walk right under it as I’m afraid it will crash down and pin me to the floor. I walk up to the wardrobe and the doors creak open with a sense of foreboding. I’m right, of course, Daniel did go wild. I browse through brand new cloaks, gowns, trousers and shirts, all in scarlet, black or white. I shut the doors and make a mental note to tell Daniel that a Mara can wear other colors too.

As promised, Daniel sends me two lovely girls, Inna and Marina, who help me take a bath and make me look presentable. I’m not used to being waited on, so I try to refuse their help. They just smile respectfully and help me anyway, ignoring my feeble attempts to do everything myself. I suspect they haven’t been told who I am as they do not ask questions or cringe when they touch me. They actually are a lot of help, but I manage to at least talk them into letting me take the bath on my own.

“M’lady, there’s a strange spot on your back. Would you like me to call a healer?” Marina asks me while she’s helping me with the corset.

Inna comes nearer too and examines my back.

“Maybe you would like to put on another dress?” she suggests.

Marina answers before I can say anything. “No, His Highness wanted this particular dress.”

“So, it was His Highness who ordered you to clad me in this revealing dress with open shoulders?” I turn to them indignantly.

My maids lower their eyes.

To be honest, the dress is gorgeous. The color is more crimson than scarlet. The hem of the skirt and the sleeves are embroidered with real gold thread and delicate lace and the corset is embellished with pearls and rubies. I don’t remember ever wearing anything as beautiful, or as revealing, for that matter. The cleavage is at least a few inches too low for my liking and my shoulders are completely bare, which makes me want to cover myself with my hands. I look like an expensive doll and the fact that Daniel ordered me to wear this dress feels humiliating. The anger is bubbling up inside of me again but something touches the skin on my back and I start.

“I am sorry, my lady,” it was Inna, “but that spot…”

“What about it?”

I turn my back to the mirror and crane my neck to see what is so strange. What I see is a dark, almost black, spot on my shoulder blade that looks like the palm of a hand. Shadow’s touch. A sign that marks my connection with Morok. It’s the spot where he touched me when he was reviving me. The thought sends a shiver down my spine but I turn back to the maids and try to look reassuring.

“Oh that. It’s just a birthmark, that’s all. I can cover it with my hair. Could you help me brush it back?” I ask sweetly.

The girls look at me with a hint of suspicion in their eyes but they do not dare to pry further. They brush my hair so that it falls down my back in a waterfall, though a smaller and lighter waterfall than it used to be. They also line my eyes with stibnite, powder my face and paint my lips. There are so many jars, flasks and tiny bottles on the dressing-table that I’m afraid to even touch them, having no idea about their contents or purpose. But the girls seem more competent, they swiftly pick up this jar or that bottle and apply colors that match my dress. In the end, when I open my eyes and see my reflection, it’s not an unpleasant sight.

“You are breathtaking, m’lady,” Marina says with a shy smile.

“Thanks to you.”

“I meant m’lady is breathtakingly beautiful even without the dress or the makeup. I am sure His Highness will appreciate your beauty.”

“His Highness can shove…” I glimpse a startled look on my maids’ faces and check myself. I put on my best smile and force myself say: “I hope he will be satisfied.”

The prince seems to be into collecting beautiful things. And he must be considering me a new object in his collection.

As soon as the thought forms in my head, the door to my room flies open. It is not the prince who strides in though, it is four guards.

“Excuse us, my lady. We have been sent to accompany you to the Great Hall.”

Four fully armed men, and I am not even allowed hairpins, let alone weapons. Maybe Daniel fears I might kill someone with the hair comb he gave me.

In an act of desperation, I actually cast a quick glance at the dressing-table, but my hair comb is not there.

“Lead the way.” I sigh, standing up and hitching up the hem of my dress. Two guards are walking in front of me and two more are bringing up the rear.

It takes us at least five minutes to get to the Great Hall, though it is situated on the same floor. We weave through corridors and passages, in and out of halls till I completely lose my bearings. But the guards finally stop in front of heavy doors and throw them open. I straighten up and fold my hands somewhere in front of my belly, the way women do at court. I enter the hall, the clicking sound of my heels against the polished floor loud in my ears. Apart from that, it’s almost silent, there are only a few people speaking in hushed voice somewhere in the distance. I was expecting to find a crowd gaping at a living Mara, but the hall is almost empty.