Page 24 of A Dagger in the Ivy

“So you’re just going to walk away?”

“I prefer to think of it as a slow, confident stroll of victory.”

He disappears from my view, and I straighten.

Nadya fans herself with her hand. “I think I’m going to like it here.”

Before I can respond, the door to my room flies open, and Indira enters, carrying a pile of folded towels. “Enough dallying. Time to get ready.”

CHapter

Eleven

Nadya shakes her head. “We haven’t even had a moment to breathe. Is it already time to ready ourselves?”

Indira’s lips twitch in what might be the ghost of a smile. “The ball waits for no one, Lady Nadya. I thought all you royals and nobles were taught that punctuality is key.”

I can’t help but admire her. There’s something about Indira that I can’t quite put my finger on, a strength and resilience that I find both intimidating and inspiring. Despite her abruptness, there’s a warmth in her eyes when she looks at us, a hint of protectiveness that makes me feel safe. I guess I hadn’t initially noticed her softer side because I wasn’t expecting it.

But I’ll take my alliances where I can find them.

“I thought the ball was taking place in a few hours. Must we really start getting ready now?”

Indira remains unfazed, her expression unwavering. “Your Highness, there’s still much to be done. You haven’t even bathed yet.”

“All right, then. Where is the bathing room?”

“You have your very own. Follow me.” She leads the way, opening the door to a room almost as big as the one with my bed.

I did wonder why she was bringing my towels to my bedroom. In the Garrison, there’s one bathing room we all have to take turns using. There are a few in the castle, of course, but even when I lived there, I didn’t have my own room for washing up.

Hedera is proving to be a much more elaborate and sophisticated country than Delasurvia, and I’m not sure how I feel about it.

The showpiece of the room is a large, porcelain bathtub, gleaming under the soft light filtering through the stained-glass windows. It stands proudly in the middle of the room, surrounded by intricate mosaic tiles that depict serene landscapes and mythical creatures. The air is filled with a faint, pleasant scent of lavender and fresh linen.

Indira sets the plush, embroidered towel neatly on a gilded rack. Beside it, an array of delicate glass bottles, filled with fragrant oils and bath salts, line a polished marble countertop. Everything is meticulously clean and well-kept and befitting of royalty. This place is a sanctuary.

She runs my bath, pouring some oils and bath salts into the water. The air fills with steam and the scent of apple blossoms.

“Do you need assistance, Your Highness?” Indira stands near the tub with her hands behind her back, waiting for instructions.

“No, thank you. I can wash myself.”

“I’ll be right outside if you need anything.” She dips her head but still does not smile. “Your gown is being brought up presently.”

I wasn’t aware they would be providing a gown for me. I have some things packed, but if I’m honest, I wouldn’t know what I should wear to a ball. The closest I came to having one made was when my brother was engaged, but since the wedding was called off, so was the appointment with the seamstress.

It turns out, a bath was exactly what I needed. I feel much cleaner and rested, and the bath oils in Ivystone make my skin as smooth as silk. I don’t think I’ve ever smelled this good before. I emerge from the steam-filled room wrapped in a warm towel. My damp hair clings to my back,but I don’t mind.

I’m barely dry before Indira and a couple other maidservants usher me toward a corner of my room that is set up for me to be dressed in. I can’t help but feel a sense of trepidation creeping over me. The prospect of dressing in a gown and attending a ball feels foreign and unfamiliar—a far cry from the battlefield to which I’ve grown accustomed. Even when my parents were alive and organized the few balls that took place in Delasurvia, I found a way to get out of attending. My entire childhood was composed of me slipping out of any situation that locked me into the role of a princess. And after my mother passed, balls were a thing of the past.

As the maidservants unveil the gown intended for me to wear to the ball, a wave of awe washes over me. The dress, a masterpiece of silk and satin, shimmers in the soft glow of candlelight, its hues of azure and silver reminiscent of a moonlit sky. Delicate lace adorns the bodice, tracing intricate patterns across the fabric like delicate filigree.

“It’s… It’s beautiful.” I am not accustomed to such finery, and I can’t help but feel a flutter of nervousness in my chest.

Indira’s sharp voice cuts through the moment. “Yes, yes, it’s very nice. But it will look even better when it’s on you.”

Her blunt remarks serve as a stark reminder of the weighty expectations resting upon my shoulders. But as I gaze upon the gown before me, I cannot deny the allure of its beauty, and I find myself drawn to the promise of transformation that it represents.

---