Tatiana blinked at her, still confused why the King made them wait to be promised. Girraween looked at least eighteen. “Why can’t you go to the dating parlor?”
“Daddy wouldn’t let me.” She straightened and furrowed her brow, speaking in a masculine voice. “Girls are to be pretty pictures: nice to look at, but shouldn’t speak. The royal blood line always continues through the males, because men make the best leaders, blah, blah, blah.” She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Oh… that reminds me. I want to see your fleur-de-lis.”
Girraween pawed at Tatiana’s waistline. Tatiana turned happily; anything to get off the topic of mating.
The Princess huffed. “It’s not there yet. Weird.”
At her words, Tatiana turned to look at her hip, too. She was right. The royal mark that magically appeared after one kissed a royal hadn’t shown up.
Tatiana chuckled nervously and felt her ring finger—the white tattoo was taking its time to come as well. “Maybe it’s like the promising tattoo?”
Girraween took a peek at Tatiana’s finger, then her own hip, inspecting the royal mark she’d acquired at birth, before returning to Tatiana’s hair.
“Yeah, maybe.” She shrugged, then with a quick flick of her comb, she twirled and pinned each tendril of Tatiana’s hair into a massive up-do surrounded in peacock feathers. “I’ll have to ask my mom.”
At the mention of Queen Desiree again, Tatiana’s heart plummeted. “Don’t you think we should return to the audience?”
Girraween faked a yawn and threw down the brush. “Do we have to? This audience stuff is such a bore. I miss our make-up and hair sessions at mermaid school so much. Wasn’t that fun, back before you were promised?”
Tatiana had to agree, though the other mermaids were jealous backstabbers at the time. She didn’t think she could return now that she was a mer matron. Beauty school was for the unpromised to learn how to snag a boy.
“We should get back.”
“Fine,” Girraween huffed. “I’ll have these garments taken to your room. But you need to ask Mistress Wynie to craft you some of your own. The staff notices these things and oh how they love to talk.”
Tatiana smiled, secretly confused why Azor didn’t have Wynie come to the compound earlier when he knew she hadn’t anything to wear. Girraween held out a mirror and Tatiana studied her reflection. If only she weren’t underwater for her promising day, her hair could have looked this fabulous in feathers. Sadness interrupted her thoughts, reminding her of her issues with Azor.
Tatiana left the room just as Linise entered. Through the closed door she heard Girraween bark orders to clean up and deliver the dresses. At that moment, Tatiana vowed to never talk to her servant in the same manner; that was if she were ever assigned one.
10
: : :
Lavish
Jacob straightened when Tatiana left Girraween’s room, his eyes briefly sweeping over her. She noted he hid a smile. Or was it a smirk? Was he mocking her? Dressed in yellow and surrounded by feathers, she suddenly felt a little ridiculous.
Behind him, the servant girl who’d shared her skirt earlier, stood at attention.
“Oh,” Tatiana said once spotting her, “your skirt. I’ll go fetch it—”
“N-no,” the girl rattled off. “No bother. I-I’m fine. I-I’ve got a-another one.”
Her stuttering interrupted Tatiana’s concentration and she worked to keep a straight face.
“This is Nicole, your handmaiden here at the palace,” Jacob said, as if to rescue the both of them. “She can show you to your room.”
“I have a room?” Tatiana’s mouth gaped open, then snapped into a frown. This confirmed Azor wasn’t coming home, at least not today. “Oh, okay, I guess.”
Jacob studied her, confusion on his face.
Tatiana ignored him and added, “Nicole, sorry about earlier… and thank you for sharing your skirt.”
Nicole did a double-take. “You’re quite welcome, Princess.”
With a spring in her step, she took the lead as Jacob followed. Tatiana, lost in sadness once again, walked behind the two of them, worried what Azor planned to do in Tahoe. Had he wanted to find her parents? Arrest them? Though hanging out in the palace was better than his dungeonesque compound, she loathed the continual waiting.
Her eyes, though, had other plans as they zeroed in on Jacob’s gait, having never seen him in legs before. Biting her lip, she marveled at his shoulders. Much different than Azor’s, more toned with a wicked tribal tattoo hugging his shoulder. His waist was smaller, too, setting off the V of his torso. The lines of his sculpted back muscles moved and contorted in such beautiful ways. At his waist, two dimples pressed in and out, winking at her from his black skirt that hung low on his hips. And his calf muscles as they popped out with each step. Had she even seen Azor’s calf muscles?
I bet he’s got a sexy butt,
she thought.
So much fuller than Azor’s flat butt
.
She bit her knuckle, wondering if Jacob had ever been naughty with any of the servants.
“Tatiana?”
She snapped out of her trance and dropped her hand. Jacob and Nicole had stopped before two white doors, and watched her peculiarly.
“We’re here,” Nicole stated with a slight nod. “Would you like me to open your door?”
“No, I’ve got it.” Tatiana pushed her thoughts aside, and turned the knob.
The room took her breath away—beautiful furnishings and floor to ceiling windows framed the gorgeous underwater landscape of Natatoria—decadence beyond her wildest imagination. She walked to the bed and trailed her hand over the silken blue threads and puffy pillows, wondering why Azor lived like a freaking sea hermit. The ceilings were gilded in gold and embedded with stones of every color, sparkling brilliantly upon her. Spinning in a full circle, she took in the rest of the room as its warmth enfolded her.
“I-I hope it is t-to you’re liking, ma’am.”
“Yes, Nicole, far better than I’d ever imagined.” Tatiana sat in front of the vanity on a plush cushioned chair and studied her feathered hair.
“It’s stunning. Don’t you think, Jacob?” She turned to find him in the doorway. His eyes darted from the table where Tatiana sat, to the bed.
He grimaced. “It’ll do.”
“Will it ever.” Tatiana laughed at his continual stoniness. “I wonder what the guard quarters look like.” She quirked a smile, teasing him.
“I won’t need a room. I plan to remain outside your door when you need rest.”
What? Are you a vampire or something?
She searched his face, confused he’d forgo good sleep. With all the guards in the palace and the Dradux at the main entrances, she was in the safest place possible.
He continued to study the room, but not in an admiring sort of way—with more of a scrupulous glare. Like at any moment a flesh-eating zombie would jump from the closet and eat her brains.
“And there’s no other way to enter this room but through this door, correct?” He hit the frame hard with his palm, startling Tatiana.
Nicole folded her gloved hands over her skirt and nodded. “Ah, as far as I know, y-yes. I mean, someone could break a window, I guess.”
The thought of staying alone in such a vast room suddenly unnerved Tatiana. “And you certainly won’t be staying in the… servant’s quarters. Right, Nicole?”
“Normally, I sleep in the c-conservatory, but since I’m to serve you, I’ll sl-sleep h-here.”
She pointed to a closet-sized room next to the main door. Inside was only a cot and dresser.
“That’s your room?”
“Yes, miss. M-most comfortable.” She curtsied to the Princess. “And quiet. The conservatory can get loud at times.”
Though happy she’d have someone nearby, Tatiana didn’t understand Nicole’s gratitude. And with all the vacant rooms they’d passed, why were servants to sleep in a stuffy room filled with bunk beds anyway? What were they all for? A statement of wealth? The lavishness seemed more like a waste—another pretty bobble on Natatoria’s bracelet, tucked away in a jewelry box no one would ever see.
It was as if the servants’ deformities or lack of living parents were their own faults. And the worst part being, the royals hadn’t really earned the money. Born into wealth and status, they’d used their laws and freedoms to sell sunken treasure to purchase their human trinkets.
The cogs in Tatiana’s mind synchronized as another mission became clear. Once she was queen, she’d compensate servants so they could earn the finer things if they wanted, even live outside of the palace, and be promised. They didn’t need to be punished further by working for free.
Tatiana turned to Jacob, eager to tell him her future plans. At his scowl, she refrained.
She padded barefoot across the carpet toward him. “I’ll see about getting you a cot, or maybe an adjoining room.”
“No.” He met her eyes with determination. “I’m fine standing guard outside your door.”
“But you need to sleep.”
“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”
Sunlight refracted from his eyes, and zinged into her like lightning, weakening her knees. She abruptly looked away, embarrassed. Though his continual presence should have annoyed her, his constant attention to her needs, even at his expense, flattered her. And though she’d never admit it publically, she was beginning to enjoy him being there.
She shook it off, reminding herself of his job and her promise. Jacob’s dedication stemmed from his reverence to her father, for which she couldn’t fault him. But why? Did he know something about her father’s future plans that she didn’t? Was her father planning to return and overthrow the kingdom?
The thought startled her. If Jacob didn’t support Azor, then why was he still here? Why didn’t he follow her father and leave? One thing was for certain, no matter how much she wanted to trust Jacob, she’d never let her guard down. If given the chance, she knew he’d abduct her and she’d never see Azor again.
“You better get back to the audience,” he said quietly. “Your absence will be suspicious, especially if Princess Girraween returns before you.”
“You’re right.” Tatiana straightened her shoulders and gave herself a once over in the mirror before she darted past him into the hall, shaking away her conflict.
: : :
The audience resumed and Jacob returned to pace the hall. With an empty stomach and a full mind, he couldn’t concentrate. The line of mers stretched down and around a corner, seamless and unending. Though he knew it was their custom, he cringed each time the next mer begged to speak with the King, or Prince Azor. If they only knew that if they praised the Queen for her attention, she’d be more generous in giving what they’d ask for.
The needs were all the same: extra food, access to the fountain of essence, or the request to visit a prisoner. Baskets of food were issued until they ran out, and small vials of essence were administered to the injured—not nearly enough to heal someone. The most annoying was listening to the mer matrons wail when denied access to visit their mates in prison. Jacob knew it was a front to show weakness of the rebel’s wives, but after the thirtieth scream, Jacob’s head was pounding.
But Tatiana didn’t know the plan and with each new citizen, she struggled to keep a straight face. He wished he could have told her, but with her loyalty to the promise and Azor, he wasn’t sure if she could be trusted. The rebel alliance had been formed as a backup so the King’s overstretching tyranny couldn’t take over their lives. Jack wanted to round up the banished survivors from Bone Island, the Lost Ones, before they confronted the throne. And unless anyone was in mortal danger, they were to appear beaten so Azor would let his guard down.
Once lunch was announced, relief covered Tatiana’s face until she spied the seating chart. Queen Desiree had placed Tatiana at the end of the table next to Princess Garnet. The snobbiest of the princesses. Jacob knew Garnet wouldn’t welcome her, nor say a word.
Hungry and irritable, Jacob wished he would have eaten with the other guards in the kitchen, but didn’t want to leave Tatiana’s side. Confused momentarily, he wasn’t sure where to stand and settled against the wall behind Tatiana’s chair. He stared straight ahead, breathing from his mouth. If the rebel wives had to endure separation from their mates, he could endure thirty minutes until the next audience.
The other guests chattered freely, as curious eyes of servants continued to gawk at Tatiana. The chair at the opposite end of the table, facing the Queen, remained empty—Azor’s perhaps? Queen Desiree bowed her head and closed her eyes. The table grew silent and followed her lead.
“All mighty, Poseidon. Heal the King and our city. Give mercy to those who suffer,” she said, her voice monotone. “Help us through this difficult time and grant me wisdom to know who is friend and who is foe. Amen.” She exhaled sharply and motioned to the head chef.
Servants appeared and presented plates overflowing with greens and baskets of bread. Jacob clenched his fist, his stomach rumbling at the smells. The two pieces of fish he’d had at breakfast burned through him hours ago. And his distrust of the guards in the palace and the unfamiliar routine hadn’t allowed him time away from Tatiana. If Nicole hadn’t snuck him a snack earlier, he would have passed out from hunger by now.
Tatiana munched hungrily on her greens, unable to wait for those around her to be served; Jacob knew this to be her first meal of the day.
“What’s this?” Queen Desiree asked, throwing the bread basket into the hand of a nearby servant. “It’s stale and where are my croissants and jam?”
The servant girl bowed her head. “I’m sorry, my lady. Prince Azor has forbidden leave of Natatoria and with the rations we’ve administered, we’re short on flour—”
“Forbidden leave of civilians, yes, but mer matron Phelomenda has my permission to exit the gate with armed guards as usual, for food and supplies. If this was in question, why hasn’t anyone spoken to me of it until now?”
“Yes, but—”
“But what?” she yelled and the entire table hushed.
Jacob recalled Azor’s last decree at the compound before he left—to booby trap the gates and spread rumors that Jack had planted more explosives. The rebels knew that wasn’t the case, but if they didn’t heed the warnings, their fatal injuries from barbed wires coated in cassava poison would stop them first. Azor’s faulty logic didn’t leave room for the food needs of Natatoria. No one wanted to cross through a gate, especially the orphaned servants who’d lost parents to dynamite accidents in the past.