MASTER SEBASTIAN

Chapter 23

At his question, I blinked, trying to struggle out words. His gaze ran down my body and once he saw the hoodie I had on, his face darkened.

"A human in our kingdom?!" he boomed. "Guards! seize her!"

But instead of rushing at me, they looked at me with an almost pitying expression. Two of them came to lead me away while another whispered something in his ear, calming him.

His uproar had caused more people to fill into the halls now and my heart pounded in my ears as I felt them lead me away. What was going on?

My mother's words suddenly resurfaced. Your father was abnormal. In more ways than the DNA in his blood accounted for.

Despite myself, a chill went down my spine. No. No, I refused to believe any of this was true. There had to be some explanation.

The guards stopped in front of my doors, bowing. I went in unseeingly, my heart racing. I didn't even jolt when Ysmay voiced out, "Be calm, mortal. You only caught king Adolfe on a rough day."

I spun around. "Adolfe?"

"Yes. Adolf is Abberdian for night and Rolf, Abberdian for day. Your father is both night and day."

Slowly I took that in. My brows knitted. "Why? Why...is he that way?"

"He was cursed."

"By who? Why?"

"By a sorceress who will not be named. And the nature of his curse isn't my story to tell."

At length, I said quietly, "And he couldn't have told me about this himself..."

"King Rolfe is not a man with a lot of time on his hands... Adolfe even less so."

"He spent all afternoon with me. That was enough time."

She shrugged. "Perhaps he wanted you to get accustomed to Abberdin before letting lose one of its many secrets."

"Many..." I echoed. "Just how much are there?"

The lining beneath her eyes darkened and it was then I realized it wasn't kohl, but tiny black markings etched into her skin. Her quiet words carried a wealth of meaning when she said, "A lot."

The next morning, I woke to an empty room. Chirps of birds sounded at the balcony and I walked over to it to pull open the doors. They flew in, chirping around me and I couldn't stop a giggle. I bypassed my mirror, seeing what I looked like. Wild knots tangled my hair and on top of it sat a furry little bird, its stomach quivering as it sang with all it was worth. A smile stretched my lips. My hair was a literal bird's nest.

Another bird hovered nearby, landing on my shoulder to join three more that had staked claim there. A knock sounded at my door. The birds flew away.

I opened it to see a middle-aged woman in an elegant chignon. A pair of ridiculously large thick-rimmed glasses sat on her nose. Her eyes widened behind them when she saw me. "Oh, am I interrupting something?"

"No, no. You can come in."

"Alright." With that she swept in, plopping her large bag down on the floor a distance away. She spun to face me and then dropped to a curtsy. "Morning, my lady. I--"

A ray of sunlight sliced in through the windows at that moment, hitting her square in the frames. Squinting, she focused on the window and behind it, I watched, amazed, as creeping leaves grew across it, multiplying in stems until the window was fully shielded from the sun. "Now, that's better," she mumbled, looking back at me.

"I am Violette Ervigne," she introduced with a small smile. "The royal modiste. Here to have you measured out and looking your best for the court. I'm sorry we hadn't made more preparations for your return."

"It's okay..."

"But we were able to put something together for you. For today, at least." She crouched and rifled through the bag, bringing out a folded linen carefully. She laid it out on the bed. It was a purple covering, tied together with a little gold bow. Curiosity had my mind wandering.

My attention went back to her when she took out a measuring tape and asked, "Do you have a watering kettle around here?"

"What?"

"A watering kettle," she repeated, her face tightening with worry. Again, she crouched, but this time she didn't go through the bag carefully, but quickly, her thin arms working anxiously. "I know it's in here somewhere." I stood there hesitantly, wondering how to help. But what the hell was a watering kettle?

She rose. In her right hand was what I thought looked like a tiny flower vase. "I must have forgotten to bring it along," she said. "I've only got a writing pot. Do yo-- oh. Look."

I turned around but she was already striding across the room. On my desk sat a little kettle with a long, fluted mouth. It was white and had tiny impressions of exotic gold flowers. She picked it up and held it over the little pot with a single seed in it. A dribble of water had it growing into a thin plant, soon it morphed to a tree bark, and before my eyes it broke down to leave a brown paper behind.

I blinked.

That was...

Weird.

Weirdly amazing.

Seeming unaware of my shock, she dipped a feather into an inkwell and simply grabbed the paper, writing across it. I noticed a similar writing pot on my desk. Beside it sat three more that came in different sizes.

Violette came over and took my measurements, chattering as she worked, "Since your return, queen Belladonna has been anticipating an audience with you."

A lump grew at the back of my throat. I hadn't had time to let my mind dwell on the fact my father was married... To someone else.

I had a stepmother.

The tape went down the length of my arm. "Unfortunately she's going to have to wait a little while longer. You're ill equipped with the right ammunition for court. A wardrobe."

My tone was amused. "Ammunition... Is the court so bad then?'

Her cheeks flushed like she'd said more than she should've. She cleared her throat and said shortly, "Not per se."

Her words lingered in my mind as she turned me around gently, splaying the tape across my back while I pulled my hair aside. "What is she like?" I found myself asking. "The queen."

At that moment, a bunch of maids poured into my room, proceeding to draw my bath.

Violette's voice lowered and to my earlier question, she said cryptically, "That depends on you, your highness."