Flame in the Palace

2. Costume

In all her years of childish daydreaming, Myria never imagined herself kissing a prince. The actual event proved blissful as she imagined the feel of Leor's lips on hers, his hands on her face. She had shared plenty of other kisses before, but there was something about kissing a prince, about kissing Leor, that was different. He was charming, reserved, and respectful.

The whole moment of euphoria was only marred after hearing Emiri's words about her. A dirty barmaid? Taking advantage of Leor? That was not her. At least the second part wasn't. She would never imagine herself taking advantage of anyone. Perhaps she was taking advantage of his kindness when she kissed him? Misreading the moment as something else?

She pushes herself out of bed to examine herself in the mirror. There are dirt and grease smudges all over her clothes. Her hair is tied up in a tangled mess. She quickly remedies her reflection by splashing her face with the water from the washbasin, even though it is ice-cold. She scrubs down her entire body until it is covered in bright red splotches. She unties her hair and combs it out until it is completely free of tangles, but even then, it still looks wild and untamed. She twists it into a long, tight braid before changing into a clean set of clothes, electing to wear a dark green dress today instead of pants. Then, she returns to her reflection for a new inspection.

It is a considerable improvement, but Myria cannot help but still feel lackluster. The dress is one of the nicest things she owns, but even then, it cannot compare to the likes of nobles, a prince. Her face is clean but pink from her furious scouring.

For a brief moment, Myria hides her face in her hands. She rarely obsesses over her appearance in such a critical way. The romantic moment she had shared with Prince Leor is long gone. She never expected to pursue that fantasy with him. Besides, Leor was not the one to call her a dirty barmaid. Why should Emiri's words matter so much to her?

Myria peeks through her fingers at her reflection again. Green eyes as bright as forest leaves stare back sheepishly. Emiri was a commoner, like herself. Perhaps that is why his opinion cuts deeper. She did not think that she left him with such a negative impression, but maybe she had crossed an unintended boundary when she took his hand last night.

Whatever the case, it all matters very little now. The prince and his friends would leave the Morning Glory and head back to their lives at the palace. More than likely, she would never see them again. Life would go on at the Morning Glory as it always does.

With this comforting, if desolate, thought, Myria heads downstairs for the morning. When she gets there, she sees Grandma Iris sitting across from Geffrey at one of the tables. Myria puzzles at the strange sight, unable to recall a moment when Geffrey and Grandma Iris have spoken calmly to each other. Even Grandma Iris quietly sitting while the morning chores are still waiting was an oddity.

"Good morning," Myria greets them carefully. "I didn't expect to see you up so early, Geffrey."

He grins at her, and it seems very childlike. "Yes, the others have already left to escort the prince back to the palace. I wanted to at least meet with my family before I left."

Something strange pricks at Myria's throat when she hears that Prince Leor and the others have already gone. "It's a shame I didn't get to say goodbye," she muses softly, looking away.

Grandma Iris loudly clears her throat, making Myria look up at her. "Your cousin wants to ask you something," she announces bluntly. "He's just too polite to get straight to the point."

Myria looks quizzically at her cousin.

"Yes, thank you, Grandma!" he falters.

Grandma Iris sighs with impatience. "I'm not your grandmother."