The Princess's Servant

93. The Guesthouse

It was only after breakfast that Holden revealed to Cara the purpose for which he'd invited Marcus: he intended to take the guard to the princess's guesthouse and have her try to talk some sense into her. Upon hearing this plan, the disguised princess insisted that "really, all of this sounded like none of her business" and that anyway, "she should get going". It was then that Holden took her by the hand and told her that (although he wouldn't make her come along) he really, really would like her emotional support in this endeavor. And "What are friends for if not for times like these?" Cara had tried to say something about how she didn't want to burden him, but by then her struggle was merely symbolic. Holden had won. Refusing to join after he'd invoked their friendship would be almost as bad as flat-out saying they were no longer friends.

And so Holden, Marcus, and yes— Cara stood outside the guesthouse. The overcast sky matched its withering gray stone walls, and Sybil wished nothing more than for the building to disappear into the clouds as mist. Her second-story window sat empty, obviously, but the front doorway did not. Sybil's servant Beryl had come out to meet the three of them and was presently engaged in yet another argument with the prince. 

"My lady's not available," Beryl said with a hint of what Sybil recognized as snobbishness. "I'd advise you to go home."

"I'm just here to talk," Holden insisted. "I— I brought an old friend." And he gestured to Marcus.

Marcus took the cue and raised a hand in greeting. The servant did not wave back.

"Can we please speak to Sybil?" Holden asked. "We just want to make sure she's okay."

"Her highness isn't in," Beryl pressed.

"Oh come on. It's the crack of dawn! Where else could she be?"

And at that, Cara's eyes grew wide. It was early. Early enough for the princess's absence to raise questions. She needed to fix this before he asked any more. "I— I gotta go to the bathroom," she told him. "I'll be right back." And she ran off before anyone could stop her.

"Cara—!" Holden started, but that's all she heard. She ran around to the left of the guesthouse, and — once she was certain they could no longer see her — climbed through an open kitchen window. She tore her way up the stairs, entered her bedroom, and immediately threw off her forest-folk disguise. She popped a burbur berry, tossed on a cloak and neared the open window.

"I thought I told you to stay away, Wardian!" came Sybil's words to the prince. Though the burbur berries had turned her eyes and hair their true color once more, she still found herself unable to face her former servant.

Holden pivoted to the open bedroom window. "Please, can we talk?" he asked. "I'm worried about you!"

Sybil almost believed him. "You're just worried you did something wrong!" she shouted back.

"That's not true!" And then, when she didn't say anything for a moment, he added, "Can we at least meet face-to-face?"

Sybil took even another step back from the window, unsure of what to say now. She knew what she wanted to say. She wanted to tell him that the princess Sybil was dead and that he'd have to accept the huntress Cara as his replacement wife. But since those words could not find their way across her lips, she said nothing at all — rather than lie to him again. 

"Princess?" Holden studied the vacant window as if the princess's ghost might surface from its depths, if only he stared long enough. The prince frowned when no such apparition appeared. He looked to Marcus. "Your turn," he said.

The guard blinked at him a few times in surprise. "Uh, are you sure? I think you're getting through to her."

"Just— Try, please," he said, and he stepped aside.