Out of Time - A Darklina Fanfic

Chapter 8

The next two days passed in a blur as Natalia tried to drill me on the court decorum I woefully forgot or simply never knew. There was so much that I had trouble absorbing it all, and she was always hesitant to correct me when I made a mistake. What she knew was also very different from what I had to learn; she started on the different types of bows and curtsies before remembering that it would be rare for me to ever need to bow.

"When would I?" I had asked.

Natalia considered this for a moment. "Rarely. Maybe if you went to visit the court of another monarch, as a show of respect, but— what?"

She didn't understand why I was giggling, and I couldn't tell her that it was at the sheer absurdity of me ever making social calls with the Darkling.

"I can't imagine we're very popular," I managed. "Or that he's big on diplomacy."

"It still happens sometimes," she insisted. "Let's work on your walk. Shoulders back, chin up..."

I am sure I sent the Fabrikators scrambling with my request for a new kefta, but when it arrived in the morning of the audience, there was no way to tell. My breath caught when Natalia lifted the lid off of its box, and I found myself looking down at yards of shimmering silk, like a pool of liquid gold. I brushed my hand over it, marveling at how light and smooth it was. When I put it on over my black underclothes it felt practically weightless, even though it had a long train, atypical for a kefta. The neckline was a bit wider and lower, too, probably to show off the antler collar at my neck.

Natalia gave a little sigh, picking up the train and rubbing the fabric between her fingers. "This must be the new corecloth they're working on."

"What?" I goggle down at the kefta, running my hands down the fabric cascading over my thighs. "I could have sworn it was just silk. And it's so thin."

"Thin, yes, but it'll stop a bullet, and a knife will slide right off of it."

I huffed a laugh. "If we're this concerned about me getting murdered at court, things really have gone downhill."

"There's very little danger, but it would be a bad look." She dropped the train, and added magnanimously, "Besides, you know how he gets about these things."

Sure I did. But I said nothing and let Natalia see to my hair. She began pinning it up in elaborate knots at the back of my head, sprinkling in what I thought might be real pearls here and there. Whenever she had me turn my head, I practically gleamed in the daylight. Atop it all she set a delicate pearl kokochnik that nearly blended into my white hair. I raised a hand to touch it.

"It's understated," I remarked. In this unfamiliar world, I wasn't sure what that meant.

"The Darkling thought a lot of the royal traditions were gaudy and unnecessary," Natalia said, supplying my answer. "But the people like them. They like you. So, a compromise."

"So he doesn't wear a crown, or..."

She shook her head. "Crowns are a symbol of the monarchy." Again, this was recited as if it was something she'd memorized. "We're not the old monarchy."

"But thrones are fine."

Now she faltered. "Um... you want to be comfortable, don't you?"

"Sure," I said. How deep did it go? She seemed to be well-conditioned, probably raised with these ideas since she came to the Little Palace. As much as she seemed to fear the Darkling — and of me, although she was growing more and more comfortable by the day — she also genuinely respected him. She wanted his approval.