This is the Day

2 Years Later

Just at dawn, Annabel silently entered the Princess’s bedchamber.

The tiny crack in the drapes emitted enough sunlight to raise the room from dark to dimness, just enough that Annabel could clearly see the shape of her mistress sprawled across the bed with her sheets tangled around her legs. That black hair had come loose from her sleeping braid again, and stuck up in all directions around a face that was never this relaxed awake, mouth wide open, drooling on the pillow she had hauled to the edge of the mattress and clung to with both arms.

She swiftly pulled the drapes aside, letting the morning sunlight blaze fully through the room.

Morenna came upright in an athletic spin of limbs, Blackwing appearing in her hand right from its mount above the fireplace.

“Good morning, your Highness,” Annabel said pleasantly.

It took the Princess only a split-second to wake up; her posture relaxed and she lowered the rapier. “Annabel. Good morning.”

Annabel cleared her throat, looking pointedly at the Princess’s feet, now standing upon her mattress, and the tip of Blackwing perilously close to the sheets.

Morenna’s cheeks darkened slightly and she stepped down. It reassured Annabel that she could still coax out these little glimmers of vulnerability in the early morning, before Morenna was properly composed. Over the last two years, she had grown more into her self-imposed role as the ruthless cursed princess, less inclined to let the humanity show through.

It made Annable’s heart ache to watch, but there was nothing she could do but be there to support her mistress. Pushing at her only made her retreat.

“This is the day,” Morenna continued, opening her fingers and letting Blackwing disappear from her hand, returning to its place above the mantle. “The culmination of fourteen years of patience and all my planning. Everything must be without flaw.”

“Yes, your Highness. I am certain it will be; I have the utmost faith in you.”

Nodding decisively, Morenna turned and strode toward her bedroom door, then stopped when Annabel cleared her throat again. Turning back, she found her lady’s maid smiling and holding up a hairbrush.

Morenna glanced upward; she couldn’t see most of the disheveled mane of black hair standing up all over her head, just enough to get an idea how bad it was.

“Ah. Yes. Ahem…one thing at a time.”

“Yes, your Highness. Have a seat, please.”

* * *

“Good morning, your Highness!” Gerard said cheerfully, bowing as Morenna emerged from her room brushed, dressed, and with her sword belted at her waist. “Breakfast is ready. Will you be eating first this morning?”

He gestured to the two covered dishes set upon the serving cart he’d wheeled up.

“Not today, Gerard. I’ll have my turn after the murder.”

“Very good, your Highness.”

He picked up one of the two covered platters, following Morenna as she strode to the exterior door of the sitting room. The Princess flung the doors open, and morning sunlight burst in along with a rush of cool air, and also an absolute clamor of caws, squawks, and croaks.

“Good morning, everyone!” Morenna said, smiling brightly at the flock of crows gathered upon her balcony. Dozens of them lined the balcony rails, the patio furniture, the pots in which Morenna grew her herbs, the eaves above the door. “I trust we all slept well! Ow, Reginald, no pecking! How many times must I tell you? Contessa, stop picking on your brother. Duke! For the last time, get out of my wolfsbane! That stuff will melt your insides!”

Gerard followed her out, setting the platter upon the patio table as raucous crows settled all over his arms and head, squawking demands. It had taken him a while to get used to this. “All right, lads, take it easy. We go through this every morning. I’m not gonna let you starve, don’t worry.”

He whisked off the cover, exposing the platter of half-rotted meat and offal he’d scavenged from the castle kitchens. Immediately the entire flock descended upon it as if starving, while Princess Morenna hovered over them, vainly trying to keep a semblance of order.

“All right, Lance, you’ve had enough. No, you can’t claim the whole platter. Shoo, make way. Here, Vivian—you have got to be more assertive, how do you manage to feed yourself without my help? Ack—Reggie! The food is on the table! Get off me, for heaven’s sake.”

Gerard indulged in a fond look back as he retreated back inside, while Morenna was too distracted to catch him—and caught Annabel doing the same from the doorway. Feeding her birds was one of the very few times they got to see Morenna unguarded and happy, as a young girl ought to be, and she only let down her guard this much because her tower balcony was positioned to be out of view of the rest of the castle, and too high above the city for anyone to spy up here. If she caught them watching, she would clamp down again.

They left the door open a crack, withdrawing into the sitting room to wait.

“This is the big day,” Gerard said softly.

Annabel nodded. “Has she ever told you why?”

He sighed. “Not a hint. I haven’t… Well, you know how she feels about questions.”

“I know. Gerard, she’s wearing her sword. I’m worried.”

“Me too, love. All we can do is wait, and make sure she has a comfortable home to come back to.”

It had taken them months of work to fully restore Morenna’s tower apartments. Everything had been broken, threadbare, and rusted, not to mention covered in dust, cobwebs, and mold. It was amazing that Morenna wasn’t more unhinged, having grown up in such neglect; her living space had been furnished with whatever rubbish no one else in the castle wanted, and never cleaned aside from what little the child could do herself.

They had done their work, though, and for more than the last year, these had been proper apartments—fit for a young lady, if not a princess. Whatever they couldn’t repair or clean, they’d managed to finagle from the castle steward; nobody wanted to supply the cursed Black Princess with anything, but the pair had learned to wield the fear surrounding her name to acquire what she needed.

Waiting in the clean, well-appointed sitting room, the only two servants of the Princess clasped hands, silently reaffirming their commitment. Morenna was strange and unsettling, but they owed everything to her kindness.

The door opened again and Morenna entered, smiling happily with cheeks reddened by wind. Finding them looking at her, she instantly composed her face back into its usual cold lines.

“Ahem. Thank you, Gerard. What’s for breakfast?”

“Your usuals, your Highness, plus an extra helping of sausage and fresh fruit. I know what you always say—you’ll need protein and sugar on your big day.”

She nodded and almost— almost— smiled. Until Annabel loudly cleared her throat.

“Your Highness, you have just been handling rotting meat and wild birds. I know what else you always say—about germs. Wash first.”