A Dove's Tale

Chapter 56

Between Theresa and the gift baskets, I forgot all about Prince Chevalier and any upcoming trouble, at least until dinner. The tension came flooding back when the excited chatter of other servants surrounded me, and I really just pushed my food around my plate, listening to it all. It didn't have to go wrong. I didn't have to get into trouble. Maybe Prince Chevalier was wrong this time, I told myself, changing into a crisp new uniform to match the rest of the servants. It could happen. He hadn't known how things would go that time I slapped Prince Clavis. Everything would be fine, I told myself, lining up along the walls of the entrance hall with the other servants assigned to specific guests.

The first of the guests filtered in, and all the servants stood up straighter, the last of the chatter dying away. Many of the guests brought their own servants, who carried their luggage while their assigned maids and butlers stepped forward to introduce themselves and showed the guests to their rooms. Those who didn't have their own attendants at hand snapped their fingers or their voices at the nearest servant, who dutifully went outside to the carriage to unload the often excessive amount of baggage. The lower the rank of nobility, the higher the self-importance, it seemed.

So, I should have an easier time with the foreign princes, shouldn't I?

Even I didn't believe that.

I stood in my place, trying not to fidget as the minutes and guests passed me by. It seemed the foreign princes wanted to be fashionably late. The wait was agonizing.

And then I heard the distinctive jangling of innumerable metals and jewels hitting each other, and I knew Prince Silvio Ricci of Benitoite had arrived. Sariel and Prince Chevalier both made a point of saying Prince Silvio jangled. I straightened and stepped forward to meet him.

He made quite an entrance.

I was right to go with blue for his gift basket. He had blue eyes and hair dyed multiple shades of blue - lighter at the top, fading to almost silver at the tips of his long bangs, contrasting with dark blue at the back. His boots were turquoise with silver toes and designs, ending about two-thirds up his calves. The vest and pants he wore were black and adorned with copious gold jewelry. His white shirt had a low-cut neck with prominent ruffles falling over his chest, and his sleeves were full and poofy until they came to a tight cuff. His cloak was multiple shades of blue, matching his hair - lighter on the inside, darker on the outside, with some blending of shades here or there, rimmed with a white and black spotted ruff of fur about the neck. And the jewelry. So much jewelry. Everything jangled, and everything glittered - necklaces, rings, even his bejeweled sword belt.

"Welcome to Rhodolite, Prince Silvio," I said, dipping into a polite curtsy. "My name is Ivetta, and I will attend to you during your stay. Allow me to show you to your room."

"Shouldn't a prince be here to greet me?" he snapped, his sea-blue eyes flashing irritably.

He was as rude as Prince Chevalier had said.

"I'm sorry to disappoint, your highness. I believe the princes are getting ready for the ball, but I know they're looking forward to seeing you."

"Yeah, right," he huffed.

I bit my tongue and smiled sweetly, leading him to the room I'd prepared, not lingering to see what he thought of the gift basket. He seemed the type who would find something disagreeable about it, and even if he liked it, he probably wouldn't say so. The other two princes would be here at any moment, so I hurried back to the entrance, just as a deathly chill settled over the hall. I took my place in the line of servants, looking around at the suddenly pale, frightened faces lining the carpet. Spring nights could be cool, but the air flowing in through the massive double doors had been warm when I left. What changed? Why was everybody so afraid?