Nightfire | The Whispering Wall #1

Forty Two: The Hallow Festival

The castle was in chaos.

Nova perched on the table in the guestroom she'd been escorted to and listened to the staff running back and forth outside. There were soldiers talking in the foyer and Faellian was yelling about something, and Nova was quite happy in her bubble of calm. She winced as the maid plaiting her hair yanked too hard.

Almost happy, then.

Her outfit for the Hallow Festival taking place that day was hanging from the wardrobe door, the only dress she owned with any colour. She was allowed to wear it twice a year for the lord's public appearances at the big festivals, and she hated it on principle for the fact that Faellian had picked it for her. It was undeniably a beautiful dress; she just wished it wasn't so she could hate it more.

The Hallow Festival always took place on the first full day of the dark season, and this year everyone had been taken by surprise when it fell early. The preparations had only been in the earliest stages, hence the chaos. Down the corridor, Faellian bellowed like a demon at his tailor, who had been summoned in the small hours to start making last-minute adjustments to the lord's outfit. Nova swung her feet and smiled faintly. She hoped the tailor had stuck him with a pin.

The maid finished braiding and crossed to the dress on the door. It was purple brocade with silver detailing, in a traditional Kelian style with the high stiff collar and fitted bodice. A cut out below the collar left space for a necklace to show against her skin before giving way to a mauve stomacher. Faellian had ordered that the skirt not be extravagant, but the seamstress had still given it a little more shape than Nova really had. The only thing that ruined it was the stumps of her wings, bound in purple silk and sticking out of holes in the bodice that had been tailored in to accommodate them.

Grace walked in at that moment. Household staff were required to wear one item of clothing in the house colours and a pin brooch with Harkenn's ram skull emblem, and Grace wore her colours in a cloak with a deep hood that looked suspiciously like an homage to the Unspoken style. Beneath it she wore a demure dark grey dress with a white collar and pinched sleeves, and she had tied her hair into an elaborate knot. She stopped in the doorway, eyes widening.

"I know," Nova said. "I look like a pudding."

Grace looked tempted to respond, but maids had orders not to communicate with Nova while she was still in the royal apartments. She had already broken that rule too many times to count, of course, but they didn't usually have a witness.

"I can take over if you want," Grace said. "I'm ready to go."

"Oh, would you?" the maid asked, and Nova startled. The girl had been totally silent up until this point and Nova had almost forgotten she could talk. "I haven't even got my dress on yet."

"Of course," Grace said, stepping across the room and avoiding Nova's eye. "Go and get ready."

The maid hurried out, squeaking another thank you before disappearing into the bustle of the corridor beyond.

"You don't look like a pudding," Grace said, laughing. "Why'd you have to say that? I almost gave us away."

Nova smiled despite herself as Grace's fingers set to work on lacing her bodice. Her hands were confident, almost practiced.

"Do you wear clothes like this where you're from?" Nova asked, picturing the otherworld garb she had first seen Grace in and struggling to make it match up. "You seem to know what you're doing."

"No," Grace said. "But I used to work in a museum where I did this all the time for displays."

"What's a museum?"