The Ivory Rite

Chapter 8

I finally catch up with Landon later that day. This afternoon's meeting has been insisted upon by Margret herself, due to the fact that preparation for Samhain begins in less than twenty-four hours. It's time to go over the rules.

I wait for him in the library, where many of our lessons take place. Pacing the walls of books, I let a finger trail along the spines, pausing to pick up anything that catches my eye and stacking volumes of interest on a nearby desk.

The heavy stone door finally swings open, and Landon enters the room. 

"Landon, I can't believe you've been—" 

The words tumble out of my mouth in a rush, only to be immediately cut off.

"Diem." He interrupts with purpose, and it takes only a moment for me to realize why. He's accompanied by Eva Ember, Raina's mother. I can barely see her plump, rosy face over the armful of dresses she half carries, half drags into the room.

"Your Highness!" Eva exclaims. "I am so pleased to show you the fine dresses that have been chosen for your use this week."

"Margret picked them out?" I ask, knowing there could be no other possibility.

"Yes, her Highness made some selections for you," she says, uncertain. My tone has dampened some of her enthusiasm. "But I think you'll find that her taste is exquisite!" She tries again, smiling jovially at me over the mounds of fabric. "They're beautiful! Every last one of them."

"Of course, Eva. Thank you so much. Here, let me help you," I say, elevating my voice several octaves for her sake. I take the dresses from her one by one, hanging each off a bookcase. She's managed to carry only three on her own, and Raina enters after a few minutes to bring in the rest. I have to admit, they are spectacular. 

The thought of wearing something so flashy, so royal, in front of the entire kingdom is terrifying.

Raina squeezes my hand as she hands me the last dress, rushing from the room. I look after her, desperation ballooning in my chest. I want nothing more than to follow her, but I know I can't. Any questions about the favor I asked of her this morning will have to wait until later tonight, when she comes to prepare me for bed.

I spend the rest of the day trying on each of the eight dresses, one for every day of the coming week, including an extra gown for Samhain itself. Eva pokes and prods for alterations while Landon fires questions at me about Formal tradition.

"What's the proper way to greet a guest of high station?"

"I remain seated until after they bow." I bend down in a mock bow, provoking a small chastise from Eva.

"Stand up straight, my dear! I'm using pins for fancy's sake." She makes a small clucking noise.

"And?" Landon presses on, his patience never wavering.

"Men are expected to kiss my filthy hand." Landon looks up, startled.

"Excuse me?"

"Never mind," I mumble, rolling my eyes.

"What happened to your hands?" he asks, seeming to notice the bandages for the first time.

"Maybe you would know, if you'd stop avoiding me." I give him a pointed look. He frowns, abandoning the subject.

"Answer from the text, please." He motions to an open book.

"Why?" I demand. "I said men have to kiss my hand. It means the exact same thing!" I cross my arms over my chest, only to have Eva gently uncross them. Landon's solemn look confirms that he expects me to correct myself.