Chapter 11: A Trip into Town

 

 

 

Chapter 11: A Trip into Town

 

THE next day, I decided to go and explore the castle town.

Outside of eating lunch with the Prince, Patricia didn’t have any important plans scheduled, so I styled her hair up nice and tight so it would last throughout the day. Once I was done, I was free until evening, when I’d return for her nightly upkeep. So I had plenty of daytime hours available to tour the city and observe the hairstyles of Vaxwald commoners. Plus, that reward money from the Queen was burning a hole in my pocket, so I figured I could browse around for some hair ornaments and accessories while I was at it.

Patricia’s still really hung up on the incident from yesterday... Hopefully she feels better after talking to Prince Dario, I thought as I walked down Main Street.

Just then, I spotted a group of young girls staring in my direction and blushing.

“So dreamy...” one of them whispered as we passed each other.

Dreamy? Me? No, surely not. Upon further reflection, I realized their gaze was pointed over my head...but before I could turn around, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

“Did you bring your parasol, Mayna?”

I whirled around to find Ray of all people standing there. “What are you doing here?!” I yelped in surprise.

“I had the day off work,” he replied flatly, ignoring the gaggle of girls admiring him from afar.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here. If anything, you ought to be relaxing in your quarters or something. Or do you mean to suggest you had similar plans for today entirely by coincidence?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

How very vague. I quirked a brow. “I see. Well then, I’ll be going now. Don’t worry, I’ll be mindful of the heat.”

I opened my parasol, slung it over my shoulder, and turned to go when I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder.

“Hold on a minute. Isn’t this your first time in the city? I’ll be your guide so you don’t get lost. Besides, there are a lot of pickpockets in these parts.”

“Oh, really? In that case...hmmm...I guess I’ll take you up on that,” I decided after an extended internal debate. Being around Ray was always awkward, but at the same time, I felt safer having at least one other person with me.

Although Ray had seemed rather pleased that I agreed, when put into practice, he really didn’t “guide” me at all—just followed along behind me. Now that I think about it, why would I need a guide when I’m just walking down the street?

I thought maybe he could help me find the hair accessory stores, but when I asked, he simply said, “I wouldn’t know—I’ve never thought to look.” In the end, all I could do was keep walking until I found one, observing hairstyles as I went.

“Dragonkin men all seem to have really short hair... They make yours look long by comparison... And as for the women, sure enough, theirs is mostly long and straight...”

But as it turned out, I wasn’t the only one ruminating on hair at the moment.

A group of three young women approached me. “Pardon me, but how do you get your hair to look like that?” one of them asked.

Today I was wearing my hair in a single braid starting from the crown of my head. This was no ordinary braid, however. First, I’d put the upper half of my hair in a ponytail, then tucked it into itself. From there, I braided it into the loose lower half of my hair, creating three small separate braids. Then I took those, fanned them out, and braided them into a single giant plait, atop which sat a hairband.

In Myulan I would’ve styled it up further, but I had been meaning to experiment with Vaxwald style for a change, and today was the perfect opportunity.

“It’s pretty easy, believe it or not. I could do it for you, if you like.”

“Really?”

“Mayna,” Ray chided. He seemed to think better of trying to stop me, however, because he eventually took up the duty of holding my parasol for me as I worked.

I pulled the three of them to the side of the street where we wouldn’t block foot traffic, then set about braiding their hair the same as mine. By the time I was finished, the young ladies were beaming with delight.

“That was pretty easy! You weren’t kidding! Now that I’ve seen you do it twice, I’m sure I’ll remember the steps. Besides, I’ve had some practice doing Myulan braids.”

“By all means, give it a try sometime! Oh, and while I have you, take this. It’s the hairstyle Her Highness Princess Patricia wore to her Vaxwald debut party.”

I pulled the spare pamphlets from my satchel and passed them out. This was precisely why I thought to bring them.

“Wow... An authentic royal hairstyle?”

All at once, the ladies’ eyes lit up. Not that I blamed them, of course—surely anyone would dream of looking like a princess.

“Thank you! I’d be more than happy to take this off your hands!”

“You’re very welcome.”

“Just wondering, but...are you two a couple? You’re not Bondmates by any chance, are you?” one of the girls whispered to me, her eyes on Ray.

“No, no, nothing of the sort,” I quickly replied.

At this point they invited him to grab drinks with them, but he wriggled out of it by pointing at me and saying, “I need to stay with her.”

Uhhh, you really don’t, but okay.

“Awww, darn...”

“Rrgh... I just know my one true Bondmate is out there somewhere...”

As the group of girls wandered away in disappointment, I commented, “These young Dragonkin care an awful lot about finding their Bondmate, don’t they?”

“Indeed—and doubly so knowing not everyone is destined to have one at all.”

Granted, I could certainly see the appeal of a soulmate, but I couldn’t help but wonder why they cared that much. After all, if Bondmates were really that unique and special, then would Ray have mistaken me for his? I somehow doubted it.

Unfortunately, by the time I realized precisely what we were discussing, the air between us had already grown stiff and awkward.

Ray pointed at a nearby shop to break the tension. “Hey, look. There’s a jewelry store. They might have hair ornaments.”

At first glance, the store in question appeared to be entirely out of my price range, but I didn’t have it in me to argue the point, so in I went.

“Welcome. Can I help you find anything?” an older gentleman asked as we entered—likely the owner, if I had to wager a guess. His probing gaze was fixed on Ray; perhaps he’d deemed my male companion worthy clientele. I, however, was just here to window-shop.

I really hope the owner doesn’t mind.

“Do you have any hair ornaments?” Ray asked while I was busy feeling out of place.

“Right over here.”

I took one look at the display case and let out a gasp of admiration. “Wow...!”

The case was filled with luxurious ornaments made of gold and silver, some with jewels or pearls embedded in them. They sparkled under the display lights, dazzling my eyes—but I couldn’t see any price tags, which meant they definitely cost a ridiculous amount far beyond my personal budget. Maybe I’ll ask about the price next time I’m shopping for Patricia.

Since I couldn’t afford anything, I decided the least I could do was take careful note of their designs. That little bird ornament is so darling... Oh, and I like that one there with the tear-shaped jewels hanging from it... I bet I’d look like a chandelier wearing that...

They were all perfectly lovely...but then I spotted something that stole my heart.

“Oh, wow!”

With no precious metals or encrusted jewels to be seen, it was quite possibly the most ordinary item in the case, but I could innately sense its value.

“This is iridian whiteshell, isn’t it?”

“It is indeed... You have a sharp eye, miss,” the owner replied, looking a bit surprised that a commoner like myself would be so well-informed.

Iridian whiteshell, as the name suggests, is a shell material harvested from beaches. Normally it’s white in color, but under the light, it faintly shines with all the colors of the rainbow. And of all the shells popularly used in crafting jewelry, this one is by far the most rare and valuable.

This particular accessory took the shape of a cluster of small flowers, each petal its own separate piece of whiteshell. The shells themselves were normally quite large, so the designer would’ve had to carefully break it and then sand the fragments into the perfect size for every single piece. In the center of each flower sparkled a tiny pale jewel of some sort—possibly a diamond.

“These flowers are meant to be miniature Nemophila, aren’t they? I can tell by the shape,” Ray observed as he admired the accessory with me.

Personally, I was impressed he knew them by name. I was quite fond of the little blue blooms myself, but they weren’t popular like roses, and as such, they weren’t exactly the sort of flower the average person could recognize offhand.

“Why, yes. I’m surprised you knew that.”

“They’re fairly common here in Vaxwald. As a boy I would always see them around town, but I never knew what they were called until recently, when I finally became curious enough to look it up. Apparently some countries refer to them as baby blue eyes, too.”

“Interesting...”

His comment reminded me of the time when my mother told me I had “the sweetest baby blue eyes, just like the flower.”

Something stuck out to me, however—why now, of all times, would Ray suddenly take an interest in some common flower? He didn’t really strike me as the plant-loving type.

As I pondered this, I turned to the owner and asked a slightly more pressing question: “Pardon me, but how much are you asking for this?”

I braced myself, ready to pick my jaw up off the floor, but the figure he quoted was actually a lot more reasonable than I was expecting. That said, it was still very expensive, so if I was going to buy it, I needed to be one hundred percent committed to the purchase. Still, at the very least, I could afford it.

It probably helped that it was made from a shell. While iridian whiteshell was valuable in its own right, I imagined its jewel-studded neighbors all had an extra zero at the end of their price tags.

“This is the only iridian whiteshell ornament that I have for sale, and once it’s sold, I can’t guarantee when or if I’ll get more in stock. I doubt my competitors would carry any, either.”

“Nngh...”

I hesitated. As much as I wanted it, I didn’t have the entire sum on hand. Granted, I could ask him to hold it for me and return with the full amount another day, but this was a great deal more than I was comfortable spending on an impulse purchase. I needed to think this through rationally.

“I really, really love it, but I think I need to sleep on it and come back another time.”

Dying inside, I wrenched myself away from the display case and left the store with the full knowledge that I might never see that beautiful ornament again.

“You sure? I thought you really liked it,” Ray asked curiously, as though he sincerely had no idea what was stopping me from buying it.

“Didn’t you hear the price he quoted?” I asked.

“Yeah, so? What about it?”

Oh, you sweet, ignorant aristocrat.

❀❀❀

AFTER I bid a heartrending goodbye to the iridian whiteshell accessory, the two of us were walking down the main street when I suddenly spotted a small crowd forming in the nearby plaza. There, a newspaper stand had opened for business, and a line of people were waiting to make their purchases. Reading the paper struck me as a good way to stay up to date on the latest Vaxwald happenings, so I walked over—

“Come one, come all! Get the scoop on the truth behind the royal rumors!” the vendor proclaimed.

Frowning, I got in line. Once it was my turn, I took a coin from my wallet and handed it over to the vendor.

“Thanks for stopping by!”

I took the newspaper—more of a flyer if anything—and stared down at it, brow deeply furrowed. Behind me, I felt Ray reading over my shoulder.

Sure enough, the article was definitely about Princess Patricia, but at no point did it clarify that the rumors were false. To the contrary, it was a scathing, libelous takedown completely in line with the rest of the smear campaign against her.

“We received exclusive testimony from a Myulan servant who has worked for Princess Patricia for years. According to her, ‘the Princess is every bit as immature as she looks. She’ll fly into a violent rage at the slightest mistake, and she’s been known to throw vases or hit people during one of her tantrums.’ Our anonymous informant reported that ‘Patricia LOVES to spend money on new, shiny things. You name it, she buys it: dresses, jewelry, furniture, carriages... She’ll get bored and buy new ones every other week. She’ll even replace her pets once they stop being small and cute.’ One can only hope she won’t start looking to replace Prince Dario once the novelty has worn off.”

As I read the article aloud, my voice grew steadily lower and lower. Who could this “informant” possibly be? Or was that fabricated, too? I had worked for the Princess for the past two years, and at no point did I ever hear of her hitting anyone. We had our fair share of gossip rags back in Myulan; surely they would’ve been all over a story like that, assuming it had actually happened.

Not only that, but this “testimony” about “Patricia’s love of spending” was blatantly false. Sure, she was tuned in to the current trends and bought her fair share of new things, and maybe she didn’t always wear the same dress more than once, but was that really so different from any other princess? Surely even Dario had outfits in his closet that he’d only worn once.

“Replacing older pets? She doesn’t even have any pets!” I growled.

But everyone else in the plaza was having a completely different reaction to this article:

“She throws vases at her servants?”

“Oh my god...”

It wasn’t clear whether they actually believed what was written, but not one of them was openly declaring the article to be codswallop. Perhaps this was only natural, given that no one here knew the Princess on a personal level. They didn’t have the details required to make an informed decision on the subject.

But I did.

I stormed back over to the vendor.

“Did you write this? Were you the one who interviewed this Myulan servant?”

“Lady, I just sell the papers. That’s all I’m paid to do,” the man replied flippantly.

“Then who was it that wrote this tripe?”

“One of our reporters. But if factual accuracy is your problem, then take it elsewhere. In this business, sometimes the news is the honest truth, but other times, the news is whatever sells.” He laughed.

Furious, I puffed myself up, but Ray held out a hand to stop me. “The Sun Guardian is nothing more than a gossip rag. Their reader base knows it full well, and as such, they don’t take these articles as gospel—”

“I refuse to accept that this woman is going to marry our Prince Dario!” a woman exclaimed nearby.

“...Generally speaking,” Ray finished awkwardly.

I summoned up all of my courage and thrust my copy of the Sun Guardian into the air.

“Listen up, everyone!” I shouted across the plaza. “Please, don’t buy into this muckraking! The Princess is not the sort of person these rumors make her out to be!”

I wasn’t accustomed to making public speeches, but this was no time to be shy or embarrassed. I fought to keep my voice calm and level as I continued.

“When Her Highness left Myulan, she was forced to leave all of her friends and family behind. She came here with only her hairstylist at her side. She was so anxious about Vaxwald, she broke down in tears—but she didn’t let her fear stop her. Instead, this sixteen-year-old child chose to put in the effort to form a strong connection to Prince Dario, all for the sake of their two nations. So please, try to see her for who she is and draw your own conclusions. Don’t let someone else dictate your opinion for you.”

The people in the plaza had all turned their attention to me.

“The royal wedding is right around the corner. On the big day, I hope you’ll all come and visit the castle, or even just watch from a distance. Just wait until you see the smile on Prince Dario’s face whenever he’s with her—that alone should be proof enough that she’s not the monster you’re all dreading. And when you see her in all her grace and dignity, you’ll realize that she’s fit to be Queen.”

I’d never been more resolute in all my life.

“She’s not the person you see depicted in this article. I’m begging you, please...don’t reject her before you ever get to know her.”

By the time my little monologue had come to an end, I was completely out of breath. Silence fell over the plaza. Then, after a moment, someone started clapping. Two people. Three. Eventually the entire plaza was drowned in applause.

“That was a great speech!” a middle-aged gentleman said to me. “You don’t look like a politician, but you seem to know the Princess very well... Are you her advisor or something?”

“No, I’m just a hairstylist,” I answered.

As I stood there, other people chimed in:

“I can tell you care deeply for Her Highness.”

“Perhaps we ought to think more critically about the rumors.”

It was such a relief to hear. Of course, I knew it wouldn’t be anywhere near enough to stop the smear campaign in its tracks, but nevertheless, I was proud of myself for taking action...and I wasn’t done yet.

I took out my pamphlets and started passing them out.

“This is the trendy new hairstyle Her Highness wore at a recent soirée. It’s easier than it looks!” I explained, wearing my most professional smile.

The people in the plaza each took one and peered down at it curiously.

Ray smirked as he watched my antics. “I never knew you were so strong-willed.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I replied.

He grinned, then turned to the newspaper vendor, who was balefully watching my pamphlet trump his paper in popularity.

“The Sun Guardian has been crossing the line a lot lately. Clearly you must think these libelous articles are what sells when it comes to news about Her Highness.”

“Come again, pal? Like I said, I only get paid to sell the papers.”

“Yes, and I imagine you’ll be penalized accordingly. Prince Dario plans to take action against any publications that write defamatory statements against his future Queen, and the Sun Guardian is on his list. Keep vilifying her and you won’t like what happens next,” Ray threatened, his gaze icy.

A pair of knights rode up on horseback. One of them was clutching a copy of the Sun Guardian in his hand. “You there! Are you selling this publication? I must warn you—”

“Crap!” The vendor promptly took off running.

“Hey! Wait!”

But the knights didn’t give chase; evidently their goal was merely to get him out of the plaza. Perhaps Vaxwald was like Myulan where the concept of lèse-majesté had fallen out of fashion, so they wouldn’t be able to arrest him for it.

“Was the Sun Guardian the source of all the rumors?” I asked Ray.

“It’s possible it was originally a publicity stunt to sell papers...but the investigation has yet to turn up anything substantial. You see, Prince Dario thinks there’s a chance it’s all a Kazarth psyop.”

“You mean Kazarth is trying to manipulate Vaxwald?”

Kazarth—a small nation sharing borders with both Myulan and Vaxwald. Myulan had never been on very good terms with them, so I couldn’t claim to have a favorable opinion of them, myself. Kazarth was known for tiptoeing around Vaxwald in everything it did, probably to avoid a full-scale dragon onslaught.

“Think about it. If this wedding happens, the alliance between Myulan and Vaxwald will be made even stronger. I doubt Kazarth would like that.”

He had a point. To Kazarth, a union between our two sizable nations would make us even more terrifying...but they were probably right to be nervous, considering the marriage itself was almost certainly a deliberate tactic to keep them in check. The little nation had been stepping on a lot of toes over the past few years; if anything, surely they should have expected this result. In my opinion, they had no right to complain.

That said, there was no proof that Kazarth was the true mastermind just yet—but in my view, they certainly had the motive.

❀❀❀

“GUESS what, Mayna!”

When I returned to the castle that night to braid Patricia’s hair for bed, she told me all about her day. According to her, after their lunch together, Dario had taken her to try on her wedding dress. The dress itself wasn’t completely ready, but the tailors wanted to ensure it would fit her before adding the finishing touches.

“When I walked out of the fitting room, he said I looked beautiful! And that he can’t wait for our wedding day!” Patricia gushed. “You know, at first I was scared to meet the Dragonkin Prince, but the more I talk to him, the more I like him! He’s more open and extroverted than I could ever hope to be, but somehow talking to him just makes me feel good about myself, you know? He doesn’t put on airs; he’s always frank and direct.”

“I’m glad to hear it. It sounds like the two of you will make a happy couple,” I smiled. It was great to see them growing closer and closer with every passing day, and I was certain their marriage would be a peaceful one, even if she wasn’t his Bondmate.

Once Patricia was in bed, I gathered up all my tools and left the room, followed by one of her servants, Sari.

“Hey, where’s Kirion?” she asked me. This was the first time she had ever spoken to me directly.

I glanced back at her. “He’s in my quarters, heating the curling irons. I’m going to have him practice curling my hair.”

He needed the experience or else he wasn’t going to improve—but I couldn’t bear to ask someone else to risk hair damage or contact burns. Thus, it was up to me.

Personally, I felt this practice session could have waited until lunchtime tomorrow, but Kirion was eager to get started tonight, and rather than put a damper on his enthusiasm, I conceded.

“Right now?!” Sari shouted.

“In your quarters?!” Ray cut in as he stood guard outside Patricia’s bedroom. I hadn’t even realized he was listening.

“It’s nighttime!” Sari continued.

“This is unacceptable!” Ray insisted.

I shrank back. “What’s the matter with you two?”

Obviously I had my own misgivings about being alone in a room with a man at night, but our options were limited. It was either my quarters or his.

Sari grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me over to the wall. “You already have Sir Ray, and now you want Kirion, too?” she hissed under her breath so Ray couldn’t hear. “Don’t you think Sir Ray is more than good enough for you? How can you be so greedy?!”

“Now hold on a second,” I hissed back. “First of all, Ray and I aren’t like that. And second of all, I’m not interested in Kirion, either.”

“If you insist on doing your stupid curling practice, then I’m coming, too! I refuse to let you be alone in the room with him!” she yelled in my face.

“I’m coming, too,” Ray added, his expression severe.

And so I returned to my quarters with the two of them in tow. When we entered, Kirion looked at me in surprise, then grinned. “I see you’ve brought an audience,” he joked. But once I was within earshot, he whispered, “Wish it was just us.”

I sharply looked over to find him wearing his most innocent smile.

These people are so exhausting.