Copper and Marble Nights

Chapter One~

Sometimes I'm glad I don't have wings. They would be a chore to dress every morning. Thankfully, my back is as bare as ever and I have Henna to help me dress. 

I stare in the mirror silently, listening to the slither of ribbon as she ties up my corset. The air in my quarters are stale with heat just like the rest of the castle, but here I am getting sewn into another excessive dress. Henna tried to pick out a light and breathable ensemble for me, but court fashion never allows for much freedom. Although I can say the muted yellow hue of the fabric is charming. 

"Henna, have you heard any news around the grounds that I should know of?" I break the calm silence.

"Yes, my lady." Henna says as she peeks at me in the mirror, her voice sweet as ever, "Some stablehands said that a heavy carriage arrived late last night, and a few of my friends in the kitchen say that extra meals have been taken up to the guest wing."

"Interesting, I hadn't heard of any arriving visitors." I learned very early on that a handmaiden should be kept close. They are the perfect informants and Henna has always been pleasant company. You never know when you'll need the upper hand in court politics.

"Neither had any of the staff," shaking her head, Henna's brown waves bounced, "It's caused quite the mess, my lady. If I may offer my thoughts, I'd say to expect a new face in court today."

I simply nodded, perking up a bit. This might shake things up. Nothing like an unexpected guest to send gossip around the castle spiraling. 

I sat patiently as Henna added the finishing touch: a metallic hairpin shaped in the swooping silhouette of a wing, pinned on the side of my intricate bun-updo. 

"You have a touch for this, Henna," I say, taking a moment to appreciate myself in the mirror. 

"You are too kind, my lady," She responds like she does every time I compliment her handiwork. But I always spot the bit of embarrassed blush climbing her face.

It's a well-deserved applause. Every day, my dear handmaiden gets me up and ready for court. And every day her fabulous taste has me in a new gown and with refreshed confidence. Today, she paired the colors of my clothes so they are perfectly in sync with eachother. The pale yellow shines next to my auburn hair. I feel like I'm glowing. It's her own form of magic. I wonder what kind of masterpieces Henna might've made if she had been born with true magic. An Angel who could make others look angelic.

A few minutes later, I am out of my chambers and being escorted down to the Great Hall, where court is kept. My two favorite guards casually walk in front and Henna trails behind me, always on the outskirts in case I need anything. 

The corridors of the castle seem to sweat along with the rest of us, glistening in the early afternoon sunlight. Everything on the grounds formally referred to as the Russet Castle, is warm-toned and curving. Its own court is named after it's signature elegance: the Copper Court, where all the lords, ladies, and people of importance converge to answer to the King of Lione.

The guards in front of the Great Hall doors swing them wide open as I arrive. I walk through, giving them curt nods, and step into the fray of court. I double-check that my face is set in a calm and placid expression, folding up my hands as I move into court. 

Everyone is bustling around, arranging themselves into small circles around the huge room. Long stretches of tables are set up along the perimeter, brimming with delicacies and beverages that must've been no little feat for the kitchen staff to prepare. Tall windows with chestnut curtains let in light from one side and offer a nice view of the gardens. Against the far wall is a raised platform that holds the court thrones, their elaborate arching backs raise above the crowd.

I make my way over to a back corner, where I see the top of a familiar head. The heels of my shoes tap on the polished floors as my steps get faster, although I'm careful to pace my movement in case any judgemental eye spots me. 

"Sir Jacob!" I say as I approach, a genuine smile spreads over my face.

The other people in the circle part to frame my cousin. Like most days, he's dressed head to toe in fineries. A crisp navy jacket embellished with tassels meets matching pants with tall boots, all tailored perfectly to fit his tall, muscular stance. Jacob doesn't even need the extravagant outfits to draw crowds. Almost every court lady I've spoken to has tried to use me to get to him. The court knows him as the most dashing available suitor. I know him as my dork cousin who needs a haircut. 

Sure enough, he gives me a goofy wave that only someone with his good reputation could get away with. 

"Erin! It's wonderful to see you, how have you been?" He smiled, highlighting his groomed beard. I once heard an overzealous lady refer to his hair as 'golden like wild grasses'. I almost gag remembering it. 

"I've been faring fine. Was the trip to your northern estate good?" I see some of the people in the social circle glaring at me not-so-subtly. Mad I interrupted their opportunity to speak with the King's right-hand knight I suppose.

"Oh it was-" Jacob started but his voice faded as trumpets blared over him and across the Great Hall.

Everyone in the room turned together, towards the throne platform. The King was arriving extremely early to the court, which raised some whispers when the trumpets finished their quick tune. I cast Jacob a confused glance but he only gave me a shrug. If even he didn't know what was happening, it didn't bode well. 

The King of Lione walked onto his platform, the picture of regal sophistication. A rust-red cloak trailed after him, heavy over his shoulders. The King stopped in front of his throne and stayed standing. Considering that the Great Hall was built for royalty, it shouldn't be surprising that the light naturally hit him perfectly. Yet, the effect was never lost on me. His dark brown skin looked luminescent under the lighting and the copper decorations in his braids glinted. 

Even if he wasn't an Angel, one could easily believe he was ethereal.

"Esteemed folk of the court. First, I would like to thank you for your generous attendance and hope your stay has been satisfactory. Second, I will be postponing today's usual court routines. We have been graced with a new guest. Please welcome the reputable Lady Viola Olike from the Silver Court."

The burst of murmurs from the crowd was quickly drowned out by another round of trumpets announcing her entrance. Because she's a royal guest from a different court, the Lady gets a grand opening on the platform. I watched expectantly but the figure who waltzed up was no one I could've prepared for.

My eyes didn't know where to look. Her gown was sharp like knives, all sharp edges and high shoulders. It was the deepest hue of purple I'd ever seen, bordering black. But her raven hair was let down, with only a simple braid crowning her head. I've seen Silver Court fashion before but never such an exaggerated style before. It was breathtaking. 

She glided across the platform to stand next to the King, bowing deeply. "It is an honor to be welcomed in your court." Her voice was low but it rang out across the Great Hall, in a raw sort of smooth tone. 

The typical greeting clap took a moment to start up, the whole court seemed to be in shock. But soon it rang out like thundering rain across the Great Hall. Lady Olike scanned the ballroom, flitting over every courtier. I don't know why, but I stood a little taller as she looked to my side of the Great Hall, holding out my chin just a smidge more than usual. 

I know I have no reason to, but I swear when she looked over the corner I stood in, her gaze snagged on me for just a moment. For just split second I felt her gaze wholly on me.