Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Somewhere in this palace, a dead girl’s ghost was picking out her breakfast.

Jade hadn’t slept enough to laugh at the thought, but it still circled in her head the moment a knock came at her door.

“Enter,” she said, then immediately felt stupid.

A young woman slipped inside carrying a tray, eyes down the second she crossed the room. 

“Breakfast, Your Highness.”

She set the tray down without looking at Jade properly.  That was a huge relief, Jade realized.  It wasn't fear. This girl thought she was looking at someone who’d simply come home.

“You don’t have to be so formal,” Jade said before she could stop herself.

The girl blinked. “Of course, Your Highness. We’re all just so glad to have you back.”

“What’s your name?” Jade asked suddenly. 

“Nessa. Then came a pause.  I served you before you left for Bellmere.”

Bellmere. Jade filed the name away.  It was another piece of the lie.

“Of course,” she said. “Bellmere. I don’t knowwhere my head’s been.”

“Travel does that.” Nessa hovered a second longer, then added, almost shy, “You should eat something first. Mrs. Farrow will have my head if I let you go to the bath hungry.”

“The bath?” her widened at her words. 

“It’s ready whenever you’d like. You always did like it hot enough to complain about it after.”

Jade managed a smile, even as her stomach twisted. That memory didn’t belong to her.

Then she looked down at the tray and every other thought stopped.

She’d never seen food like this. Warm bread still steaming. Eggs folded with herbs she couldn’t name. Fruit cut into neat slices. And a small pot of something dark and sweet that she realized, after a careful taste, was actual chocolate.

Her hands weren’t steady when she reached for the bread.

She ate slowly at first, almost suspicious of it, half-expecting someone to snatch it away. When no one did, something in her chest loosened in a way she didn’t have a name for. She thought of Vivian’s thin broth. Of nights her stomach folded in on itself. Of every coin she’d risked her hands for just to stay alive.

She hadn’t let herself dream this big.

She ate faster after that, it only made  her hands shake. Nessa waited by the door the whole time, patient in a way that felt almost like being looked after.

“This way,” Nessa said once the tray was cleared, leading her toward a room already thick with steam.

The water had gone cold twice by the time Jade accepted no one was letting her out early.

She sat in a copper tub deep enough to drown a small horse, arms wrapped tightly around her knees, trying to cover as much of herself as possible. Two servants scrubbed at her like she was a pot left too long on the fire. Nessa stood near the door giving quiet instructions.

“Mind her shoulders. She bruises easy there.”

Jade’s chest ached hearing that. Those details weren’t meant for her.

“I can wash myself,” she said for the third time as a sponge attacked the back of her neck.

“Of course you can, Your Highness,” the older servant said without looking up, “but you never liked doing it yourself when there were hands to spare. Said it was a waste of good help.”

Jade opened her mouth, then closed it. There was nothing to argue with.

They hauled her out eventually. The moment the soft robe was pulled down off her shoulders, she instinctively crossed her arms over her chest, palms pressing firmly over her breasts.

“I can do that myself—” she started, face burning.

The younger servant gently but firmly moved her arms aside like it was the most normal thing in the world. “You’ll only slow us down, Your Highness.”

Jade stood there completely bare, water still running down her stomach and thighs, while they dried her off with towels that felt far too fine for someone who used to sleep on rags. She kept trying to cover herself — one arm across her chest, the other lower — but they kept gently moving her hands out of the way, completely unbothered by her nakedness.

“Stop fidgeting,” the older one said, almost amused. “We’ve seen every inch of you since you were a girl.”

Jade’s face went hotter. She wasn’t that girl.

They oiled her skin next. The oil was warm and scented. When the sponge moved lower, between her legs, Jade jerked and nearly slipped.

“Careful,” Nessa said from the doorway, fighting a smile.

“I am being careful,” Jade muttered through gritted teeth, trying to keep her thighs together while they insisted on finishing the job. “You’re the ones acting like I’m a horse that needs grooming.”

One of the servants actually laughed under her breath.

By the time they wrapped her in something so soft it felt almost indecent, Jade’s face was still burning and her dignity was somewhere on the floor with the wet towels. She barely had time to breathe before Farrow appeared, took one look at her, and said, “Now for the dress.”

“There’s more?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Farrow’s mouth curved. “We haven’t begun.”

*

What followed could only loosely be called getting dressed.

Jade had assumed palace clothing would just be nicer versions of what she already wore. She had not prepared for the architecture of it.

“This can’t be a dress,” she said, staring at the boned thing a servant was unfolding. “This is a torture device with sleeves.”

“It’s a corset,” Farrow said, completely unmoved.

“It’s a cage for my ribs.” she protested.

“You’ll manage.”

Two servants descended on her at once, lacing from behind while Jade gripped the edge of the dressing table and made a sound she was fairly sure no princess had ever made.

“I can’t—” she gasped, “—breathe—”

“You’ll breathe less,” Farrow said calmly, “and complain less if you’d stop fighting it.”

“I’m not fighting it, it’s trying to kill me—”

“Princesses don’t gasp, Your Highness.”

“Princesses have clearly never worn this.”

Farrow’s mouth twitched before she smoothed it away and nodded toward the mirror. “Sit.

 Your face is next.”

“My face was fine an hour ago.”

“Your face looked like it had walked through a hedge backwards. Sit.”

Jade sat. Powder dusted her skin until she felt like a pastry. Color was painted onto her lips in a shade she would never have chosen. Her hair was pulled and pinned until her scalp ached with every small movement.

“How does anyone think wearing this much pinning?” she muttered.

“They don’t think. They sit still and let other people think for them.” Farrow stepped back.

 “There. Now you look like someone worth believing.”

“I feel like someone’s furniture.”

“Good. Furniture doesn’t fidget.”

Farrow moved toward the door, then stopped and turned back with a more focused expression.

“Before we go in, listen to me. Whatever you feel, keep it off your face. Breathe in. Smile — not too wide. Aurelia’s smile was small, almost private. Stand straight. Let them speak first when you can. And if anyone says something that catches you off guard…” She paused.

 “Smile that same small smile and say nothing until you’re certain of your footing. Silence has never given anyone away. Words have.”

Jade swallowed. “That’s a lot to remember.”

“Then remember the smile and fake the rest.” Farrow opened the door. “Come. They’re waiting.”

*

The senior staff waited in a smaller receiving room.

Mr. Thorne, the head steward, bowed so deep Jade half expected to hear his spine creak. “Your Highness. Welcome home. The palace hasn’t been the same without you.”

“Thank you, Thorne.” Small smile. Chin level. Farrow’s coaching ran through her head like a script she’d only just memorized.

“How was Bellmere this time?” Dr. Reyes asked. “I trust the gardens were as lovely as ever.”

Jade’s pulse jumped. She caught Farrow’s eyes flick toward her, a clear slow down.

“Lovely,” Jade said carefully. “Though I spent more time indoors than I meant to.”

“Mm.” Dr. Reyes tilted her head, studying her. “Forgive me — you sound different. A little rougher in the throat. Have you had a cough?”

Farrow stiffened, she literally forgot about that part. 

“The road air,” Jade said. “Dust, mostly. It’s settled in my throat since the journey.”

Dr. Reyes made a thoughtful sound and let it go, though her eyes lingered. Farrow’s gaze found Jade’s again, this time carrying something closer to approval.

Bess had no interest in being polite. “You’ll want feeding up,” she said bluntly. “Whatever they fed you out there, it wasn’t enough. I’ll see to it.”

The introductions dragged on. Names and titles blurred past. Every face looked open and relieved — except Dr. Reyes, whose warmth never quite reached her eyes. By the time the room emptied, Jade’s shoulders ached from holding herself so carefully upright.

She was moving fast before she even admitted she was running.

Not really running — princesses didn’t run, but her feet moved quick and her breath came short as she put distance between herself and the receiving room, Dr. Reyes’s too-knowing eyes, and the ache in her scalp, the weight of every careful word. She needed air that wasn’t thick with powder and perfume. Five minutes where no one was watching her for a mistake. She was grateful Farrow approved her excuse, she wouldn't have survived the tension in the room.

She found herself near a stretch of open lawn half-hidden behind a row of stone pillars. She slowed there, chest heaving against the corset’s grip, and pressed one hand flat against the cool stone.

That was when she heard it.

The hiss and thud of an arrow finding its mark. Again. Unhurried. Precise.

Jade froze. Old street habit took over. She eased herself behind the pillar and looked out onto the archery green.

Lucien stood at the far end, sleeves rolled to the elbow, bow drawn with the kind of ease that only came from years of practice. He released. The arrow struck dead center. He didn’t even glance at it — already reaching for the next one.

She should have turned back. She told herself that even as she stayed exactly where she was, watching him.

Then he stopped mid-draw.

His head turned — not fast, not startled, just slow and certain, like he’d known she was there the entire time. His eyes found hers across the green.

Jade’s whole body went rigid. An unsettling breeze swept across the green. 

He didn’t smile this time. He didn’t wave or tilt his head.

He just looked at her, bow still drawn, arrow still nocked, and held her gaze the way a hunter holds a target it hasn’t decided whether to release.

Jade’s heart slammed once, hard, against her ribs.

And then, very slowly, Lucien smiled and let the arrow fly.

*Thank you for reading! If you're enjoying the story so far, I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments. 💛*