Lily led them back to the clearing.
Guessing her intentions, Melantha climbed the prickly fountain in practised moves, her vantage point the only place to see the palace from inside the maze.
“Just where it's supposed to be.” She leaned down, put her arms on Eben's shoulders, and jumped. He swung her around and placed her lightly on the ground.
Lily wanted to be daring enough to climb fountains, but she was too afraid of thorns.
Melantha led them, peering suspiciously around each corner before choosing a path. Finally, they pushed their way through a curtain of branches drooping from the old willows standing sentry over the entrance. A riot of rhododendrons and ripening pomegranate trees burst with color just beyond the green-on-green hedge.
Ruby and Wren, twin portraits of Lily at that age, seized her hands as she exited. “Is he gone? What happened?”
“He's gone.” Lily counted heads. Everyone had made it out.
“Was there a snake? I'm not going back in if there was.” Coral hugged herself as if to guard against the non-existent reptile. Her red hair blended in with the ripe pomegranates hanging over her shoulder.
“Runson's the snake.” Melantha flopped onto the ground near Mara, swishing her hair out of the way at the last second to avoid sitting on it.
“Mel!” Mara nudged her twin with her foot.
“Lily said it first. I think it's pretty accurate.”
“Accurate or not, you don't call lords names.”
“It's unladylike.” Hazel stood apart, as pristine as if she'd never been in the maze.
Ignoring the old argument, the other girls brushed leaves from each other's skirts and picked twigs from braids.
Gwen knelt on the ground with her arm around Ivy, who was barely two years older than the twins. Dirt smudged Ivy's pewter gown, and tears replaced her usual serenity.
“I'm sorry.” Ivy shivered in the warm air. “I didn't see him. I couldn't warn you.”
Lily hugged her tight. She had nothing to be sorry for. Guarding was part of the game, a made-up role for the two sisters frightened of the maze's darkness. They were never meant to actually stop anyone from entering. “Better now?”
Ivy nodded and sniffled.
Lily wiped the tears with her thumb, smudging a bit of dirt onto Ivy's cheek. “Don't worry about it. I can take care of Lord Runny.” She hoped.
Ivy smiled weakly at the unladylike nickname. She tolerated her sisters' attempts to help her feel better, but no one could do anything for the headaches. When it got bad, Ivy curled into a ball and covered her head. The healers had never been able to find a cause or a cure.
“Did you see the mirror?” Azure balanced on a flat rock near the hedge, arms out to the side like a bird soaring, a mirror image of Ivy. Not identical, but close. Azure's dark waves framed a curious face, freckled and rosy from her time outdoors, her energy almost visible on her skin. Ivy's dark hair was just as wavy, her face just as freckled, but her blue eyes remained guarded. Her energy hidden.
Lily helped Ivy stand. “I saw it.” She hesitated, waiting to see if anyone else spoke up.
“Coral did, too.” Melantha jumped to her feet.
“It was ugly,” Coral said.
“We don't want to know what you saw in the mirror.”
Coral stuck her tongue out at Melantha.
Apparently, they hadn't seen the strange corridor.
Eben cleared his throat and tipped his chin towards the stone path that led to the main gardens.
A maid hastened past the rhododendrons, her pace quickening when she picked out Lily in the crowd. She stuttered to a stop so close their skirts brushed together and bobbed a quick curtsy. “Your Highness, the queen wants you in the king's study at once.”
The king's study? Mother only used the king's study when Father was away.
“Has anything happened, Viv?”
“Not here, Your Highness. There's been something with the razors down south.”
Razor-tail dragons. The reason for the Dragon Festival. Hundreds of years later, the kingdoms still remembered the Dragon Wars, still celebrated Ituria's soldier-king who had united them against a common enemy, restoring peace to lands that had been ravaged by dragons and greed.
This razor pack must have been especially vicious. Father would have taken a large portion of the dragon guard with him.
But not Eben. Not anymore. His eyes grew vacant, watching memories of the guard marching in black and gold towards the enemy. Did he miss it? The excitement and adventure? The danger?
She'd been secretly glad of the injury he'd suffered three years ago that had ended his leaving on monthly patrols. He'd made a place for himself here, after his recovery, and he'd risen to be the youngest member of the royal guard. He knew, as did all the girls, that they could do nothing to help Father from this distance.
Rapid footsteps sounded along the path. Another maid appeared from behind a pomegranate tree, sending an unripe fruit spinning to the ground. She stopped next to Viv, clutching the girl's arm as she dipped in a lopsided curtsy.
“The prince.” The maid took a few breaths and cast a wary glance at the looming hedge. “The prince is arriving early. You have to get to the palace.”
The girls on the ground scrambled to their feet.
The prince was Holic, of course, Second Prince of Osha, their closest neighbor, and, according to Mother, the most eligible man at this year's Dragon Festival. Mother had grown up in and near the Oshan capitol, and she'd met some of the royal family, but none of the girls had ever met either of Osha's two princes. If Holic was here, Mother wouldn't be in the king's study. Lily would have to wait to find out what she wanted, and apparently, to talk to Father about Runson's attempted proposal.
“How close?”
“Just past the city gates.”
“Thank you.” She nodded her dismissal.
The entrance to the tower she shared with her sisters was a good hike through the palace and up a flight of stairs. What would make a worse first impression—being tidy but late, or being wrinkled but on time?
Mother always emphasized punctuality.
“Come on, then.” She took Ivy's hand and led them along the path towards the entrance hall. Ruby and Wren took Eben's arms, so he would be escorting them whether he wanted to or not. He seemed willing enough. He'd stuck around after they'd gotten out of the maze, so he must not be too put out with her. Or he didn't want to disappoint the twins on their birthday.
They were hardly presentable by Mother's standards. Except for Hazel, of course. And Gwen. The others were in various states of rumpled and dishevelled. Fine for a portrait sitting where the imperfections could be painted out, but they wouldn't make the best first impression on the Oshan prince. Hopefully, he would be like most other dignitaries and have eyes only for Hazel. As the only blonde among them, other than Mother, and the tallest, other than Junia, she naturally drew attention. Which was fine with Lily.
She set a quick pace. The rainbow hues of the gardens blurred together until they reached a dead-end tunnel off the main path. She didn't need to explain the detour.
They entered the wide, latticed walkway dripping from top to bottom with roses of pink and purple, peach and white. A stone wall blanketed in more roses blocked the far end, along with a shallow pool and a bench. The privacy made it a favorite spot for romantic couples. Lily liked the pool, but she avoided the spot because of gossips. She felt safe enough with the girls.
Eben followed them to the pool, where he dipped his handkerchief and wiped the streaks from Ivy's face. He rinsed the cloth and brought it to Lily's cheek, and then hesitated.
Lily took the handkerchief from his cool fingers and grinned. “Tell me where the dirt is? I don't have a mirror.”
His lips twitched. He rubbed at two spots on his own face and nodded approval when she was done. She dabbed at her elbows gingerly, trying not to annoy them too much and start the bleeding again.
“Here, wear these.” Hazel held out her full-length gloves. Lily pulled them on, wondering, as she eased the cream silk up her arms, how Hazel had managed to keep them clean in the maze.
Gwen scrubbed at the smudges on Lily's gown, and the other girls took turns washing hands and faces in the pool. The quick tidy-up would have to do. Gwen put her hands on her hips and scowled at the stains on Lily's skirt, as if they were resisting her efforts on purpose. She had only succeeded in smearing them.
Junia came over, waving her hands to dry them, and inspected the gown. “I could switch dresses with you.”
“You're too tall,” Gwen said. “She'd trip.”
Lily couldn't deny it, but did they have to point out her lack of grace around Eben? Not that he didn't already know. He bit his lip, trying not to grin as he sat on the bench with Ivy, rearranging her hair into a simple braid down her back. She liked seeing him like this, relaxed, enjoying time with the girls. He'd seen most of them grow up and looked after them as if they were his own sisters. She wondered if that's how he saw her—just another one of the girls.
“She can wear my gown.” Melantha threw rose petals into the pool. “I'm used to getting scolded for being dirty.”
“Her slippers will show.” Hazel squinted at Lily's torn footwear.
“I can wear the dress, but I can't squeeze into Mel's shoes.”
“Mine will match.” Neylan took off her grass-green slippers, a closer match to Melantha's jade gown.
Eben got the gist of what the girls were up to and hastily tied off Ivy's braid. “I'll keep watch at this end,” he mumbled, weaving his way past the girls and out of the flowery tunnel-turned-dressing-room.
Coral giggled and Azure snorted. Sometimes they delighted a little too much in Eben's discomfort. He was only a couple of years older than Lily and the closest thing they'd ever had to a brother. But he was still a royal guard.
With all the girls crowded into the secluded walkway, Lily had no worries about being seen. Gwen and Mara had them re-gowned in a matter of minutes, while the other girls stood around being poofy.
Lily sat next to Ivy and pulled on the green slippers.
“Azure!” Gwen said. “Your hands are yellow!”
Azure shrugged. “I wanted a golden goose.”
“You wanted—” Gwen shook her head. “Never mind. Here, put on my gloves.”
“They're too big.”
“Better too big than too yellow.”
Azure's diversions rarely surprised Lily anymore. And she'd already heard about the attempt to
dye a goose. According to Melantha, the goose boy had been more amused than anything, and he’d even offered his help.
Lily stood and stretched her arms out. “Will this please Mother?”
“You look nice in green,” Junia said.
Melantha's shriek and a splash brought Eben rushing back into the tunnel. His gaze found Lily first, and she laughed at the effort he put into keeping his eyes on her face.
“We're decent,” she said. “Mel decided to use extreme methods to get the stains out.”
Even Ivy giggled. Hazel stood to the side, her eyebrows raised in disapproval, but her lips pressed together against a smile.
“Stop not-staring, and help me out of here.” Melantha held out her hand.
The girls made a path for him. He hauled Melantha and her sodden garments out of the pool. A small puddle formed at her feet.
“I want my gown back,” Lily said. It would be the perfect excuse not to attend the formal meeting with Prince Holic.
“No way.” Melantha squeezed water out of her hair.
“You can't meet the prince like that,” Hazel said.
“I'll go change and meet you before he gets to the front doors.”
“You know Mother doesn't like tardiness.”
“I'll run.”
Eben didn't bother following her. If Melantha drew attention by running through the hallways, she would draw twice as much with a guard running after her trying to provide an unwanted escort.
“Walk with us?” Lily said. She'd rather not meet another potential suitor, but if she had to, she wanted Eben present to see that there was no competition. She wasn't going to choose any of them. They might be highly eligible, but none of them was the one she wanted.
“Of course.” Eben didn't offer his arm. A royal guard didn't escort a princess in that way, not even when off-duty, but he did match his steps to hers this time. The girls followed, a few of them wondering aloud if the prince would be handsome. All anyone remembered was that he was the same age as Lily and liked horses.
The entrance hall bustled with activity. Despite Prince Holic's arriving a day early, the household of the King of Ituria knew their places. Guards in black and gold stood at attention at the bottom and top of the double staircases. Maids lined the walls, and Pol waited with his hands on the doors, ready to heft them open for the dramatic entrance.
A handful of maids stopped Lily and the girls at the side door to arrange simple gold circlets on their heads. Lily's held a single ruby in the center, a smaller version of Mother's. With Father absent, The Firethorn Crown, with its gold leaves and ruby berries, would stay nestled in its velvet-lined box. Father had let her try it on once. All symbolism aside, she'd been glad the soldier-king's grandson had decided to replace the crown of real firethorn branches. She suppressed a smile as a maid with an extra circlet and no princess received whispered instructions from Mara before retreating.
Mother stood at the center of the hall. Sunlight streamed through the windows, glinting off a thousand crystal drops in the chandelier and setting her silver-and-lavender dress ablaze. Silver ribbons held masses of curls in place atop her head, the circlet competing for attention among the golden waves. Except for a weariness about her eyes and a few lines around her mouth, Mother could be mistaken for one of the princesses.
Lily's slippered feet whispered into the vastness.
Mother scanned her and the girls from head to toe, her artist's eyes catching the subtle differences from their session with her that morning. She raised an eyebrow in silent question at Melantha's absence. Looking Eben up and down, she dipped her chin in a polite dismissal.
Lily had hoped he could stay, but he wasn't in uniform.
“Your Majesty.” Eben bowed and exited through the door that led to the library.
“I hope your manners shine today, girls.” Because most of your appearances leave something to be desired was what she didn't say.
“Where's Father?” Lily took her place beside Mother while the girls arranged themselves in order of birth.
Mother answered evenly as Pol opened the doors. “Razor-tails down at Vinita. Two villages were destroyed, and they attacked the city itself.”
No wonder Father had gone. The razors hadn't been so bold in years. She hoped the dragon guard disposed of them quickly, without any casualties.
Lily couldn't dwell on the dragons. She had a prince to under-impress.
“His Royal Highness, Prince Holic, Third Son of Osha.”
Prince Holic entered with his small entourage—a valet and two guards. He paused to give his gloves to the valet, and then strode directly to Mother. He was certainly vibrant. Not his clothes, which were brown and travel-stained, and she couldn't be sure of his personality so soon, but rather his hair. It was short and bright and orange, sticking up in contrasting angles all over his head. The scruff on his face camouflaged his pale freckles.
He waited for Pol to begin proper introductions, although he'd no doubt memorized all their names by now, and perhaps even general descriptions, so as not to get them too mixed up. He looked sideways at the row of princesses, back to Mother, and then sharply back to one princess in particular. Hazel always drew attention during these formalities, but most dignitaries had the manners not to stare as openly as Prince Holic. His lips twitched with a smile.
“Her Majesty, Queen Fernanda of Ituria.”
Holic's attention snapped back to Mother as if it had never wandered. He made the appropriate responses, kissed Mother's hand, and repeated the gestures for Lily and Gwen.
Before Pol introduced the object of Holic's interest, Melantha tiptoed in and quietly took her place between Hazel and her twin, grinning, no doubt, at having just made it in time. Or from the absurd pleasure she got from having the tallest, prettiest sister next to the shortest, most freckled one. Mother frowned, but Holic didn't seem to notice the late entry.
“Princess Hazel,” Holic said.
Well, that was a first.
Pol's mouth froze in a surprised O. He'd never had an introduction usurped.
Hazel's eyes grew round, and her polite smile flattened.
Mother's face remained serene. Coming from a family with male heirs, Holic would be excused all manner of informalities.
“Forgive me.” Holic pulled a paper from his pocket and smoothed out the creases. “I recognized you from your picture.” He turned the paper around and held it out to Hazel. She studied it, and then broke into the kind of smile she usually reserved for private moments. Dazzled, Holic smiled in return, shy, eager. Boyish, behind the stubbly beard.
“What is it?” Mother leaned around Lily.
Holic gave Mother the paper. It was a rough watercolor of Hazel, unmistakable with the yellow hair and the bold script proclaiming the subject's name. The young artist had signed the masterpiece in the corner as Hazel had taught her.
“She is improving, don't you think?” Hazel said.
“She has potential,” Mother agreed.
“Where did you get this?” Hazel took the paper from Mother.
Still under the spell of Hazel's undiluted smile, Holic fumbled for words. “I—the orphan's home. The children were watching from the street. With flags. I had to stop.”
Hazel was one of the least artistic among them, but she encouraged the children's creativity, supplying them with paper, inks, and what little knowledge she had. Two years ago, she'd petitioned Father to hire a proper instructor for those who wished to learn more than she could pass on. Without knowing it, Prince Holic had made more progress winning Hazel's affections than anyone before him.
“You will take good care of it, of course,” Hazel said, handing the picture back.
“Of course.” After carefully folding the paper, Holic put it back in his pocket. He paused and cleared his throat. “Delighted to meet you.” His smile grew, as if he recognized the awkwardness of the situation, having preempted the introduction.
Hazel offered her hand, and Holic held it a few seconds longer than needed. Lily exchanged a look with Gwen. They both knew the poor prince had no chance. He was a third son, and Hazel was determined to have an heir.
Melantha was introduced before things grew too uncomfortable. She wore green again, and Holic didn't seem to notice that her wild hair was still wet and her circlet was slipping. He attended to her and Mara politely, with frequent glances at Hazel, who didn't quite succeed in keeping her face properly forward and disinterested.
When he came to Neylan, his smile faltered. “You've a dragon on your ear.” He leaned forward, peering at the creature.
He wouldn't have seen a butterwing as far north as Osha. This one, its brown belly round with bugs, was too fat to be perched on an ear and had loosed several curls trying to steady itself. Yellow wings flapped in irritation, and it stretched its lips in a silent hiss. Neylan stroked the dragon's back, and it settled, watching Holic warily. Few dignitaries showed much interest in her hitchhikers.
“I don't want to unsettle your guest,” he said. He clasped her offered hand barely long enough to be called proper. Neylan smiled. Holic had won over another princess.
Pol introduced the remaining princesses. Junia blushed, Coral giggled, and Azure endured the hand-kiss bravely. Ivy lifted her gaze from the floor long enough to satisfy Mother, and the twins entertained with their ability to talk in unison.
Pol took charge then and escorted the prince and his entourage out of the hall.
Lily sighed, and her shoulders relaxed. That hadn't gone bad, and she wouldn't see Holic again until supper. Mother couldn't scold too much.
“I will see you in the king's study in half an hour.” Mother strode from the room, glittering silver-and-gold in the afternoon sunlight.
Then again, maybe she could.