The morning air is brisk; the last embers of fire glowing in my fireplace do little to stave off the chill. It’s still dim, the sun only beginning to rise, yet there is a soft sound, the hum of a palace alive. I can already smell eggs and meats being prepared in the kitchens far below. I step quietly out of my bedchamber and into the sitting room. As good as her word, the seamstress has left a lovely red-and-gold riding habit for me. I run my fingers over the fine embroidery and buttons of the jacket. It’s thick, heavy damask with coils of silk and lace in the bodice—much nicer than anything I’ve ever owned.
With a gentle tap at the door, the maid sweeps in. She curtsies.
“Pardon me, my lady. You have a visitor.”
I stand, smoothing my hand down my dressing gown.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Ricovi, the grand duke’s valet.”
She walks over and helps me into a long satin and fur-lined robe that she’s brought with her. When I’m covered, I take a seat.
“Show him in.”
Ricovi is an older man with long, white hair coiled into rolls atop his head. He’s in a tight blue suit and bows deeply as he enters the room. “My lady, I’ve been told to deliver this.”
He holds out a simple, wooden box, which my maid takes and hands to me.
“A gift from His Highness, the prince,” he adds with another bow.
I take the box and open it. Sitting on a bed of white satin rests a diamond-and-emerald tiara. Even in the dim light, the stones glow as if they are made of moonbeams and starlight.
“It’s breathtaking. Please, send my deepest thanks to His Highness.”
“Yes, my lady. And His Highness also wonders if you would care to join him for breakfast?”
I sit back, thinking over last night’s events and the vague plan I’ve been forming in my mind.
“Please tell His Highness, that I would love to join him, but I have plans for an early morning ride. Tell him I’ll meet him in the dining hall when I return.”
The Valet looks mildly stunned at my refusal but bows and leaves the room.
As soon as he’s gone, I call to the maid, “Quickly, send word to the groom to ready a horse for me. And send someone to rouse my ladies.”
She nods, whispers to the guard outside my door, then comes back in to help me get ready.
I dress quickly and slide on a pair of riding boots—one of my few belongings they managed to retrieve from the woods—and brush my hair. I decide to leave it long and wavy, if only to feel the wind flow through it as I ride. My ladies appear soon after, both dressed and looking like they’ve been up for hours.
They curtsy, “My lady,” they offer in unison.
“Good morning, I hope you both slept well.”
Rina grins as Elizavetta wavers just a bit, her eyes droopy and her skin paler than I’ve seen it before.
“Some of us better than others,” Rina says playfully, nudging her sister, who shoots her a rotten look.
“I’m going for a ride, and then we are to join His Highness for breakfast. Please see to it that I have a gown ready to wear and that some lavender and sage is brought up from the kitchens.”
They nod, and I watch as the gesture makes Elizavetta grimace.
With a pang of sympathy, I add one more thing. “And Elizavetta, please go down to the kitchen and ask for a glass of spiced beer. If you drink it slowly, it will help the ache in your head.”
Lord knows I’ve had to prepare the concoction enough times for my father after an argument with my mother left his temples pounding.
She nods gratefully. “Yes, my lady.”
Writing a quick note to Mother, I head for the stables.