Page 78 of The Rat King
She hadn’t noticed my gaze, or she was used to it because she didn’t flinch, only saying, “You’re good at this, too. How did you learn?”
“I was a theater major in my plane, but I never finished the degree. Along with all of the acting classes, I was able to take things like set and costume design and stage makeup. I wanted to act, but I turned the other things into a hobby and would help backstage when I could,” I said.
“Well, that explains the outfits.” She laughed behind her hand as she eyed what I wore.
“You’re just jealous,” I said, but a barely noticeable flinch crossed her face, which made my heart squeeze. “I think after the event, we will deserve a break. If you want, we could use the time to make you a few pieces. Just think of how prestigious it will be to have clothing designed by your queen. You will definitely be at the height of fashion.”
“I think we need to meet with Fredrik tomorrow and you can design our dresses for the reception,” she said, as her hands went to a steeple in front of her chest, fingertips tapping in order from small to large.
I glanced at the awaiting craftspeople. We would have a lot of decisions to make today, but we could squeeze it in. “Leviticus, bump the meeting with the chefs until after lunch tomorrow. Have the two best tailors meet us right after breakfast. The florist can wait until Thursday, and we can schedule our fitting for Friday so they can make any last-minute adjustments.” I took a deep breath and released it slowly and looked to my new friend. “We’ve got this.”
Appointments and lunch came and went, and it turned out Nighval was right. Jetta proved to be an effective tool, and more than eager to work alongside me without stopping. Part of me expected her to be work-averse, AKA spoiled, but she wasn’t remotely. She didn’t even shy away from making decisions on things I delegated to her, which gave me a little room to breathe, and I was excited about designing our dresses.
I was determined to come up with something that would drop Nighval’s jaw to the floor, and Jetta had briefly mentioned that one landowner’s daughter would be here, and she was hoping to catch her eye, so I imagined she had a similar vision for her attire.
As I freshened up for dinner, I still hadn’t seen my husband. Only Jetta and Leviticus greeted me when I entered the dining hall later that evening.
Leviticus, who was seeming to warm me even though I was running him ragged, pulled out my chair so I could sit and then took the open seat to the right of me. “Good evening, Your Majesty,” he said, handing me several sheets of paper. “We need to go over the list of special requests from the guests. Many of them will be staying in the guestrooms, and we should try to make accommodations for them.”
I looked over the list. I was used to accommodating food allergies, but some of these items seemed more like a celebrity dressing room rider. Attendants filled our glasses and brought out salads while I skimmed through the items.
“Who is Lord Gram Billings?” I asked.
Jetta leaned forward. “Why?” she asked, eyes wide with intrigue and amusement. Leviticus only settled back in his chair with a sigh, lifting his wineglass to his lips.
“Because he is requesting that he only be served food that is green.” I pushed the paper across the table so Jetta could read it with her own eyes and then turned to Leviticus who was chuckling under his breath. “Does that mean he will only eat lettuce and broccoli? Like, is he a vegetarian?”
Leviticus shook his head. “This isn’t the first time he’s been to Ravsted. The cooks will know what to do.”
“Which entails?” Jetta asked, arching a brow.
“Which entails using food dye to color his food green,” Leviticus answered.
I almost spit out the sip of water I had taken. “Wait, like you mean if he has a hard-boiled egg, the chefs will dye it green? Or they will dye a piece of chicken green?”
“Exactly. And just wait. It gets better.” Leviticus flipped to the third page and pointed about halfway down. I read over the request, unable to bite back the laugh.
“Lady Janelle Danforth is allergic to doors that open inward and the sound of her husband chewing. I guess we could seat them at opposite ends of the hall, but do we have to honor all these requests?” I asked.
Leviticus sighed and Jetta jumped in. “If we can, we should.” Jetta skimmed over the paper. “Within reason. Like this request to have the event three hours earlier is obviously not something we are going to consider, but if the Lady of Lakely Manor will only use lavender scented bath products, we should try to accommodate that.”
“Can she not bring her own?” I asked.
Jetta frowned. “As their queen, it would endear you to them to accommodate as many requests as possible, especially if they are insignificant things. You remember what life has been like for us for the past nineteen years?”
She gave me an apologetic smile, and I appreciated her gentle way of delivering to me the words I needed to be reminded of.
“Yes, and after the unfortunate situation you found yourself in after Xavier’s death, endearing yourself to our people would please our king very much,” Leviticus said.
You mean when you threw me in prison for a month and were about to lop off my head?That’s what I wanted to say, but it seemed that all that was in the past. Forgiven. To give the man credit, he was working his ass off. Maybe that was his way of trying to make up for what had happened. So instead, I said, “Speaking of my husband, where is he?”
Leviticus shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “He and the mages had some work to do outside the city. Unfortunately, he had to leave immediately when he received the news early this morning. He did not tell you?”
“Umm, no,” I said. Perhaps he tried, but considering that I slept through an army of attendants this morning, maybe I hadn’t heard it and he chose to leave me in my sleep coma. “But I understand, of course,” I said, throwing it in for good measure.
If I tried to press, I suspected he would not tell me what exactly it was that drew them away, so I would wait to ask Nighval when he returned. Worry swirled in my stomach. My husband was powerful, capable, and from what I’d seen with the wraiths, nearly invincible. That thought should have comforted me, but my mind flicked to the name Samara Wrede. She was more powerful, and I hoped whatever it was he was dealing with had nothing to do with her. Still, I wanted to demand answers. As if Leviticus suspected it, he shoveled a massive bite of pheasant into his mouth. Then another as he side-eyed me warily.
I had a feeling that I occasionally teetered on coming across like a brat. I had lived all this time in another plane not realizing the suffering of an entire people, and the more I experienced here, the more flippant and superficial I realized much of my life was. I thought I knew everything they’d gone through, but I realized that I hadn’t really known their pain. Granted, I understood you couldn’t compare trauma, and since I arrived here, I’d certainly had my fair share.
