A Court This Cruel & Lovely (Kingdom of Lies, #1)(64)

As far as I was concerned, it was her best. “Nonsense, you’re merely telling me how the castle works. I just arrived today.” I hunched my shoulders a little. “It’s…different here.”

“It is.” Sympathy creased her face. “I better get back to the laundry, but I’ll come get you when it’s time for dinner.”

“I’d like that.”





CHAPTER FIFTEEN





Once I’d cleaned the floors to Nelia’s satisfaction, Auria came and found me. She was friendly with one of the cooks, and we sat in front of the fire, shoes off, aching feet close to the warmth of the flames.

I’d met some of the maids as they came and went, finishing their work and readying themselves for dinner. Most of them had been kind, although they seemed to keep to themselves. A woman named Yirus had winced when she’d learned which bed I had, then offered to show me the quickest routes around the castle.

Auria would have made an excellent spy herself. Over a bowl of thick stew and fresh bread, she chatted relentlessly about the castle, the king, the queen, the queen’s ladies, the king’s guards—she found one of them exceptionally good-looking—and I attempted to memorize all of it.

“I’m sorry,” she laughed. “I’ve done it again. My mother always said I talked like it was a competition.”

“It’s fine. Truly. I can be a little…shy.”

She smiled, and I reached for my wine. “Uh, earlier you said not all of the queen’s ladies were nobility?”

Auria nodded, using her bread to mop up the last of her stew. “Yes, while most of them are, the queen has always been a little…eccentric. I think sometimes she grows bored with court life. Caraceli was once the girl in charge of lighting her fire each night and keeping it burning. They became close, and when she was old enough, the queen offered her the position. And Katina was born in one of the northern villages. Close to the mountains.” Auria gave a mock shiver. “The queen was traveling, and Katina was at the market, selling her father’s wares. They began talking, and before anyone realized what had happened, Katina had been plucked from her village and was living here.”

“So, each of them either showed loyalty to the queen or amused her in some way.” There was potential there. I tucked that information away to think about later.

“I guess you could say that.” Auria shrugged. “One of my friends says it’s the queen’s way of undermining the king.” She flushed. “But you didn’t hear that from me.”

My head felt stuffed with all the information I needed to consider, and I finished the rest of my stew in silence while Auria told me a story about one of the kitchen maids.

“You must be exhausted,” she said finally, when I was stifling a yawn. “Let me show you to the bathing rooms. You’ll need to clean up before the ceremony.”

I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. “What ceremony?”

“Oh, I forgot, villagers don’t pay homage to the gods as often as we do.” Auria smiled and took my arm. “I suppose that’s why most people living in the city are given back more magic than the villagers.”

I stiffened. “Most of the villagers I know were too busy to worship every day. They were trying to eke out a living to take care of their families.”

“I would argue that if they had worshipped more, perhaps they wouldn’t have needed to work so hard. Perhaps the gods would have rewarded them. Oh, listen to me,” Auria said. “Going on when you need to bathe. It’s just…the gods were here for me when my mother died. Without their blessings, I don’t know how I would have gotten through that time.”

I tamped down my instinct to defend my neighbors. Instead, I offered her a smile. “I understand.”

And I did understand. Many people used faith to cope with the worst parts of their lives. As something greater than themselves to turn to when they had lost their way. But some people used it to justify why others had less than they did–and why they were deserving of more. As much as I burned to tell Auria exactly why people in the city—especially the courtiers—were so much more powerful than us villagers, I bit my tongue until it almost bled.

One day, Auria would learn just how many lies she had believed.

She smiled at me somewhat awkwardly as we approached the bathing rooms. Thankfully, she was ready to launch into an explanation about how the servants’ bathing rooms were divided based on rank. Usually, one had to put their name down to use a bathing room, hoping it became available before you had to return to your duties. If you missed your turn, you went to the back of the line.

Thankfully, Auria was friends with the servant in charge of the bathing rooms. As she seemed to be friends with everyone.

“I can give you ten minutes,” the woman said, handing me the key.

“Oh, here’s a fresh dress.” Auria opened a closet and handed me a maroon dress identical to the one I had on. “I’ll get this one back to you once it’s cleaned.”

“Thank you.”

The bath was better than the rivers and streams I’d been bathing in while traveling with the mercenaries. But my mind returned me to the bath I’d taken that night at the inn, right after I’d heard Lorian laugh properly for the first time.