Copper and Marble Nights

Chapter Four~

When I finally returned to my quarters, Henna was waiting for me.

"My lady! I was wondering where you went." She said as she sprang at me, guiding me to the vanity seat.

"I'm quite fine, Henna. Don't fret." I assured her. Sitting on the bench in front of my mirror, I could see the worry written in her brown eyes.

Henna gave me an incredulous look. "You disappeared with Lady Olike without summoning me. By the time I was able to follow you, my lady, you both were gone. And those stubborn guards wouldn't tell me where you went despite me clearly explaining I was your handmaiden." Her words dissolved into mumbles as she began absentmindedly unpinning my hair. She was so frazzled she didn't even notice I had taken out my hairpin already.

"Lady Viola just wanted a tour of the castle. I was perfectly safe," but as I say the words I am no longer sure if they are true.

The venom in Viola's voice as she nearly cornered me in the library is a fair cause for concern, not to mention the curious situation she's put me in. Pretending to be dear friends just to lend truth to one excuse won't be an easy task and it will bring me unwanted spotlight. I groan out loud, this definitely complicates things.

"When I gave up looking for you and returned here, Sir Jacob arrived right after," Henna said, ignoring the frustrated noises I had made, "He said he saw you leave with Lady Olike too, but that you'd just learned of her minutes before. Yet the court is already spinning with rumors that you two are close."

Though she didn't directly ask, I could tell she wanted an explanation. And I definitely wanted to get everything out into the open. I trust Henna more than most people in my life. She knows all the details of the predicament I'm in, and is a constant support for me. So I spill the story. I tell her how Lady Viola used me to sneak out and how I took her to the library. I mentioned our plans for tomorrow in the gardens but leave out her strange outburst about the court feud.

As I ramble on and on, Henna listens quietly, all the while loosening my dress layers and undoing my hair. I certainly feel better getting all this off my chest and finally being free of my corset also lifts my mood.

"Well that is certainly a tale, my lady. May I suggest a relaxing afternoon?" She suggests.

"Thank you Henna, I think that would be helpful. God knows I have to figure out how to handle all the new court attention."

She scurried out of my private chamber to grab a summer frock to change into. I take a deep breath in the empty space. The windows and terrace doors on one side of my room were swung wide open to let in some breeze. The airflow stirred up the curtains on my canopied bed pushed against the opposite wall. As some of it brushed against my skin I instantly recall  Viola and her cold angeltouch.

What are the odds that a visiting Angel plucks me out of a crowd? Why do I have to be dragged into this? I have enough on my plate.

My reflection stares back at me blankly, offering no answers.

My hair is down now, released from its updo. I like how it looks laying over my shoulders all auburn and full. I got my mothers hair, as she never fails to mention. I will probably inherit her near-white silver streaks too. It seems every time I visit her back at the Greygrounds she has aged further, always graceful but in a fading sort of way.

My mother says I got most my features from my father. From the strong bridge of my nose to the soft brown hue of my skin, my mother tells me that I was blessed enough to resemble him. She always uses that word: "blessed". I don't know if it's simply because she remembers him fondly or because of the fact that my father was an Angel.

There's that secret, the one always hanging over my head and dictating everything. I, Erin Gracewood, am half-Angel: a Horizonborn.

In the Copper Court, having angelblood would instantly secure me a powerful reputation. Tradition says that the Angels are divine and therefore automatically worthy of respect. But tradition also states the importantance of loyalty, marriage, and law. All of which my angelblood contradicts. 

"Your afternoon dress, my lady." Henna said as she popped back into my chambers, yanking me out of my spiraling thoughts. 

___________

The rest of the day passed by slowly. I changed into my flowy afternoon dress and conversated with Henna. I practiced my pianoforte some, sent Jacob word that all was well, and had my usual meals brought up to my quarters. Uneventful but definitely helpful in sorting out how to approach this Viola situation.

I have decided to keep contact with her to a minimum. If the court must think we are friends than we will be a dull pair. I predict that if I can convince them our companionship is no more than courtesy they should overlook it soon enough.

"Henna," I pipe up, "I think I'll call off the gardens meeting tomorrow. If she wants a tour so bad she'll find a squire."

"That sounds like a fit plan, my lady." She says from her spot across the fireplace from me (It's not lit, of course, the summer air is almost as terrible at night). "Shall I call a servant to relay a message?"

"Yes, I would hate to leave Lady Viola waiting." 

That is untrue. I would love to see the look on her face as she waited for me in the library, surrounded by the very Angelic Era artifacts she detests. It'd be a fitting statement, I think.

Henna stood and left the room. Moments later I heard curious chatting through my chambers. I looked down the direction Henna left, squinting. She reappeared with a messenger servant. The young boy was dressed in rust-colored trousers and a cream vest with bronze buttons. In his hands was a package wrapped in brown paper.

I stood, "Am I to relay the message to you myself?" I ask. Usually I just tell Henna what I want sent and she tells the messenger.

"No, my lady. This is not an outgoing messenger. He is here with a package for you." She gestured to the short boy.

He nodded enthusiastically, his blonde hair flying around. "I have to watch you open it."

"Alright..." I cautiously took the package.

The brown paper crunched as I peeled it back. Inside was a smooth, thick book titled 'the History and Time-tested Elegance of the Silver Court'. So the package was from Viola, so much for limited contact. It's some low attempt to bother me. I wanted to squeeze the book till my knuckles turn white, I wanted to cast it aside and complain. But the messenger boy was specifically instructed to watch me open it. She wants to know my reaction and I will not give her the pleasure.

"How thoughtful. I have always been a fan of literature" I say plainly, not letting any emotion on my face. I look up at the messenger boy, "Thank you, you did a good job. You are excused."

He bowed and was gone. Now that I was out of his sight, I could react however I pleased. But the initial wave of frustration had passed so I just clutched the book for a moment and walked across my chambers to set it on my nightstand.

I don't know what kind of game she's trying to play with me, but I refuse to loose.