Slaves of the Night

Chapter 13

Kaisa

The dress fitting takes entirely too long. I'm used to these things taking forever, but really. I'm expected to wear a corset. Just for the wedding though, daily wear is much less formal here. The royal seamstress gets my sizes in order to prepare my winter and spring wardrobe, which she showed me samples of. 

That was interesting until I found out all married women are just assumed to be pregnant and have a lovely belly come spring so all spring fashion is basically maternity dresses with the breasts wide to account for however big the baby belly is assumed to be. I realize it's probably true, but really? Babies born in summer are good luck, I am informed.

 I think babies not born at all are good luck. I'm in a rotten mood today, nor do I feel like procreating with anyone in this demented castle. I thought I would be okay with this. It's what's done. It's what has to be done. Have his child. Live here. Exist.

But the ghost thing kind of threw me off.

Now I'm marching down corridors with my intrepid handmaid, seeking keys to doors I probably don't want to open.

"It's very good to meet you your Highness," Mistress Huta looks about how she did in the memories. She has more grey hairs, but still a kind face, that was quite handsome once but no one ever noticed it so she got used to not smiling.

"I wanted to thank you—your ladies have made my stay quite comfortable," I've never been so uncomfortable in my whole entire life. I've been left alone with men, haunted, and tricked, definitely lied to. And that's not even counting that I've been sold as a brood mare to a prince who prefers the company of his dogs and body guard to basically anyone.

"I should hope so. We don't get many guests here, but we do our best," she says, primly, as I offer her my hand. She takes it and kisses it gently. And I take a memory.

"Well do you or do you not know how to stop her from crying?" Rax is standing in the kitchens, it's mostly empty. Mistress Huta is making a cup of tea. Rax is holding a baby, I assume one of the princesses.

"She's only teething. Here, not much will sooth her but let her chew on something," she says, handing him a spoon, looking vaguely amused.

"You're enjoying this," he says, not as amused, as the baby drools on his lapel. He's not really even pretending to limp at this point as he bounces her.

"A little. You cried for no reason at all at that age. Sometimes babies do. Didn't she wake up her mum?" Mistress Hute asks, amused.

"No---the Princess isn't in her room, I offered to hold her; the nanny's out of her mind it's been like this all night. The prince is looking for his wife," he says, rocking the baby a bit.

"Is she all right?" she asks, frowning.

"I don't know---she cried off dinner. I thought she was tired with the baby—I don't know---- but I got stuck holding her," Rax says, rocking the baby more. She's a bit soothed by his motions but not a lot. Now she's not screaming more mumbling and sobbing a little. I highly suspect he's healing the pain in her mouth. Healing doesn't take away all pain, but it does dull it.

"Poor girl. Babies are a lot, as you see," she says, going back to pouring them tea.

"Yeah, apparently. I don't know what's wrong though, or why she wouldn't at least tell someone where she was going," he mutters, looking down at the baby.

"What's everyone doing up?" a young man walks in, looks Rax's age here whatever that is, just shy of twenty or so. This man is clearly guard, he has on half his uniform, he's blonde haired and blue eyed, but a dirtier blonde than Prince Eero and a duskier blue to his eyes. He could be older, there are lines around his eyes and mouth, and a scar on one cheek.