Once Upon a Castle - Jill Gregory [135]
The two women dropped deep curtsies to Tressalara, pointedly ignoring Lector. His face darkened at the slight. “Tomorrow when I hold the Andun Crystal in my hand as I accept the crown, you will bend your knees to me, or you will keep your appointment on the scaffold. Now array the princess as befits my future bride.”
Lady Grette gave him a look of disdain. “When you have left the chamber.”
He laughed harshly. “There is nothing of the princess that I will not see when she shares my bed this night. If it offends your womanly modesty, however, she may dress behind that copper screen. While I await here.”
Tressalara walked slowly toward the hammered-metal screen. “The sapphire silk gown with the dragon belt and collar will be appropriate,” she told Grette in a high, flat voice. “The matching cape as well.”
She and Elani disappeared behind the screen while Lady Grette opened the wardrobe containing the princess’s special robes of state. Her soft hand smoothed out the brilliant blue silk, fluffed out the bodice and sleeves smocked with hundreds of rosy pearls. The long cape was lined with rose satin and bordered with ermine. They had never been worn before.
Tears misted Lady Grette’s eyes. This was the gown she had sewn with her own hands, for the day when Tressalara reached her majority. At next year’s summer solstice, King Varro was to have handed his daughter the Andun Crystal and named her his official successor to the throne. The noblewoman held back a sob. She would rather see it rent to pieces than used on such a sorry occasion.
Grette opened and shut chests, removing garments of the finest embroidered linen and a silk undergown so delicately spun that it could be drawn through a lady’s signet ring. There was a delay when the right slippers could not be found.
Lector grew impatient. “If the princess is not ready, she may accompany me in her shift, for all I care.”
“One moment,” Grette said, lifting a golden chain from a jeweled coffer. She selected a collar as well, and disappeared behind the screen, chattering nervously about whether pearl or sapphire earrings would be more suitable.
At last Tressalara stepped out, resplendent in yards of shimmery blue, embroidered with gold thread and pearls. She looked magnificent with the queen’s gold and sapphire dragon collar at her throat and the matching queen’s coronet upon her brow. The light from the fireplace gilded her skin and her long, shining hair, rippling to her waist.
Even jaded Lector was struck dumb by her beauty. He felt a tightening in his loins. All this, and a kingdom to go with it! Truly this was his destiny. He held out his hand. “Come, Tressalara. Our guests are waiting.”
She lifted her chin. “My ladies must accompany me to give dignity to the occasion, my lord.”
He was too pleased with events to argue, and it would look better to the visiting dignitaries. “Very well.”
They traversed the upper corridors and descended the wide, curving stone staircase, past the darkened stained-glass windows and the bright banners of Amelonia’s previous rulers. Already Lector had added his scorpion insignia to their ranks. Light from the blazing torches turned the silver threads to the color of fresh blood.
As they paused at the head of the stairs, the trumpeter sounded a fanfare. Taking Tressalara by the hand, Lector led her through the stunned assemblage to the dais. Tressalara felt curiously numb and distanced from her surroundings, yet her heart turned over when she saw the simple wooden box upon the table. Rill was very thorough.
Lector stood and raised her hand. His words were like a distant, mocking echo of Cador’s earlier ones in the rebel camp: “Behold the crown princess of Amelonia, soon to be my wife.”
A gasp went up from the crowd. Those who had put their faith in her were dismayed. If she had thrown her lot in with Lord Lector, then hope for the brewing rebellion was lost.
Lector took the ruler’s chair, its high back surmounted by a huge carved dragon’s head, and seated Tressalara in the smaller