Page 75 of Unbetrothed

IDIPPED MY FOOTinto tepid water. Goosebumps spread from my legs to my scalp. Hot or cold, Myla would have dunked and scoured me herself if I didn’t bathe willingly. The water turned a nice shade of grayish brown. I scrubbed hard. It was a wonder Zichri hugged me with so many unpleasant bodily scents flying off my skin. I could have called Laude to get me the maid with the gift to heat water, but the other servants hated me, and maybe—just maybe—I could win them over by not being so needy. Why did I care what maids thought of me? I inspected my arms and stood.

Laude pulled out a thick robe and covered my body the moment I stepped out of the tub. She then waited for me behind a cushioned stool in front of my vanity. Using long strokes, she worked out the snarls knotted in my hair. My head jerked back.

“Sorry, Princess.”

Tears gathered at the corners of my eyes. “The knots must come out.”

Laude used smaller strokes, and ideas sprang into my mind. She braided a headband made of hair that swirled into a low bun. It made me look older, which could work in my favor if I followed through on the plan bubbling to life in my mind. “Thank you, Laude. It’s perfect. Could you call on the male servants to dispose of the slops and summon fresh boiling water?”

Laude dipped her head with pinched eyebrows. I didn’t explain myself, and she didn’t ask. If she knew that the water was for her, she might not have done as I asked. My slippered feet clapped the tiles, and I stepped out from my bathroom onto the hardwood floor.

Two dresses lay on my bed. It was just like Laude to lay out two dresses. Both choices were covered with bold floral prints, screaming for others to notice me. I lifted the red one, about to put it on, then reconsidered. My plan wouldn’t work with these gowns.

I rushed into my closet and searched for my riding pants, boots, and tunics. It was one rebellious luxury Papá allowed—for training purposes,of course. I plucked my undergarments, beige pants, and a white tunic off the shelf. Sliding each piece on, I whispered to myself, “You are bold and will not stand back.”

The bedroom door clicked. I tiptoed to the closet door and peeked out. Laude entered with an army of servants. When would Mamá come to see me?

The servants marched out of my room without glancing in my direction. While they exited, the soldiers became visible, four guards. Laude shut the door, and I slipped behind my small desk, shifting papers.

Her round eyes took me in. “Princess, you did not choose one of the dresses. What would you have me do next?”

“I’ve grown accustomed to trousers.” I tucked wispy hairs behind my ears, hoping she wouldn’t guess what I devised.

“As you wish, Princess.”

I hated the formal way Laude spoke. It didn’t sound like her, and it aggravated me. I pulled her in a side hug and walked her to my bathroom. “I want you to bathe. Take as long as you like. Afterward, put on one of my dresses.”

She squealed. “You can’t be serious. Myla would rip the dress off me on sight. Please, miss, let me call for a servant’s dress to spare myself the embarrassment.”

“Whatever you choose. We are sisters at heart.”

Laude clapped and skipped to the door to get a message out to another servant. I waited at my desk while she hopped into the bathroom, lining up the soaps and oils, squealing with glee. Someone knocked at the door. She bounded to it, frizzy curls bouncing on her shoulders in the perky way Laude exudes happiness. Blanca shoved a bundle in Laude’s arms, a jealous frown on her face, and I waited back with arms crossed, suppressing a smile.

Laude tapped the door shut. “Thank you for bestowing such a gift. Could I use any of the soaps and oils I’d like?” She squeaked in delight at my nod. “Even the rose one and the creams?”

“Use any andall of it. Take as long as possible.” I waved for her to go into the room. The moment she was in, I dashed to the edge of the balcony.

Across the horizon, the sun touched the flat rooftops, city walls, and the hilly grasslands beyond, revealing a perfectly golden day. Playful music mixed with the typical bustle on the narrow roads below.

Just as I pulled away from the edge, a smear of gray appeared in my periphery, and I gripped the balustrade. Far down the road, we had traveled early this morning, a group of soldiers marched. In a blink, more gray-clad soldiers appeared behind them, materializing from thin air. The Himzos had arrived.So soon?

Fear hammered in my chest—the extravagant plan I had concocted unraveled, leaving me with only desperate choices. I spun toward the stone on the palace.Something must be done.One large ledge traveled from my room all the way to the main balcony where announcements were made, and the other side of the ledge led to the watchtower.

I removed my boots and climbed up barefoot, facing the wall—gripping for dear life. Any misstep, and I’d tumble to my death. Concentrating on placing my feet, I scooted along. Left foot, right. I gripped the stones with sore fingers.

The world teetered. Nausea rose in my stomach. A gust of wind brushed at my back. I was halfway there. I persisted, even though a stitch of pain shot up my side. All the people I loved would die if I didn’t keep going. With one final step, I swung open the watchtower window and climbed into a small round room with a rope at the center, which led up to the tower’s warning bell.

I yanked the rope with all my might. Above me, the giant bell rung, vibrating the floor. I ran out the watchtower door and sprinted down a spiral staircase.

Sunlight poured in through a wall of windows along the lengthy corridor to the other tower—used as a lighthouse to indicate something was wrong at the castle. I pumped my arms. Time was short. A green-clad soldier blocked my way, but I picked up my pace. He wouldn’t harm me. Moving out the way, curiosity seeped out his skin. I panted, climbing the spire of steps, eager to make it up to the other watchtower before anyone intervened. The man rushed just a step behind mine, and it hit me. I should have set the flame first and then the bell. It was too late to do anything about it now. A giant pile of wood sat on top of a high stone ahead of me. A tiny flame danced within an oil lamp hanging on the wall.

“What are you doing?” The soldier shouted, but he didn’t dare intervene.

I smashed the lamp onto the logs. The wood caught alight, and the mirrors behind us reflected the blaze out to sea. Sweat beaded on my forehead. “Did you not see the Himzo soldiers across the way?”

“No.” Doubt marked the wrinkles on his forehead.

“Don’t you dare douse these flames. I wouldn’t want the reputation of a soldier of the throne marred by how he could have helped his kingdom.” I patted my hand on his chest. In an instant, I knew his heart raced at my touch. He tensed. Two fronts warred within him: one wanting the pride of saving his own people and the other appalled at the idea of not following protocol.

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