The room they gave her was beautiful.
That was the first thing she noticed.
High ceilings with carved wooden beams painted dark red and gold.
A wide bed with a high covering shelter, it was dressed in deep blue silk, the pillows stacked neatly, the shelter had light pale curtains that moved slightly in the draft from the window.
A writing desk against the far wall.
A bronze mirror.
A small table set with a ceramic tea service, still warm.
Elyndra stood in the middle of it and looked at everything without touching anything.
Then her handmaid, a quiet girl who had introduced herself as Senna, small and soft.
She began moving through the room, unpacking the travel cases, sorting out dresses and hanging them, talking softly about where things were kept and what time the morning bell rang.
Elyndra let her talk.
She moved slowly to the window instead and looked out at the courtyard below.
Lanterns hung between the archways, burning low in the night air.
Her feet ached.
Her back ached.
Three days in a carriage and then hours standing at the gate and then the long walk through the palace with the crown prince at her side, all of it had settled into her bones now that she had finally stopped moving.
She was tired.
She didn’t let herself show it.
”The morning bell rings at dawn, Your Highness,” Senna said from somewhere behind her.
“The other princesses are in their courtyards. The Inner Orchid Residence, they call the courtyards. Meals are taken together. The queen’s schedule will be delivered to your door before sunrise.”
”Thank you, Senna.”
The girl bowed and took her leave.
Elyndra stood at the window a little longer.
Then she turned and looked at the room again, properly this time.
One door.
One window.
Too visible, no clean route out.
The door bolted heavy from the inside.
The desk at an angle she didn’t like.
She moved it slightly.
Just enough.
Then she undressed, took her hair down, and lay down in the dark.
Sleep came slowly and left early.
—
The bell rang once before sunrise.
Low and commanding.
One strike only.
Elyndra was already awake.
Senna helped her dress carefully.
She was wearing a pale green gown with silver fastenings, her hair was pinned up and threaded with small white flowers that Senna produced.
She looked in the bronze mirror while Senna worked with her face still and quiet.
By the time she reached the Hall of Gentle Virtue, the sky outside the high windows was barely bright as it was still almost-morning.
Her embroidered shoes were thin against the cold marble floor.
She noted the exits.
Two, at the sides of the main doors, and then arranged her self and walked in.
The other princesses were already there.
Eleven of them, arranged in a loose grouping near the centre of the hall, dressed in every shade of silk and brocade.
Some were talking quietly.
Some stood alone.
Some watched the door.
They all looked at Elyndra when she entered.
She bowed her head slightly in acknowledgement and found a place to stand that gave her a clear view of the room.
She had not been standing long before she felt it.
That particular awareness of being watched from a specific direction.
She looked around the room until it landed where she’d already suspected.
A girl about her age stood slightly apart from the others.
Her robes were deep wine red, embroidered heavily at the hem, and she wore her hair in a beautiful style and threaded with jade.
She was pretty, the kind of pretty that required effort.
She was looking at Elyndra with a smile that sat perfectly on her face but didn’t reach her eyes.
Princess Lythia Grizelda of Naevana.
Elyndra held her gaze for a moment.
Then looked elsewhere.
The doors at the far end of the hall opened.
Every princess in the room straightened.
Queen Desdemona entered without hurry, her robes today was a deep black embroidered in golden, her expression the same careful neutral it had been at the gate yesterday.
Two handmaids followed at precisely the right distance behind her.
She crossed the hall and took her seat at the far end, and the room felt immediately smaller.
The princesses bowed.
Elyndra bowed last.
Not slowly.
Not dramatically.
Just…
a half beat behind the others.
The queen looked at them all for a long moment without speaking.
Her eyes moved across each of them slowly.
”Twelve of you were chosen,” she said.
Her voice was even and filled the hall without effort.
“Not for beauty. Not for talent.”
One of the princesses inhaled slightly too sharply.
The queen’s eyes moved to her.
Then away.
”You were chosen because your families are useful,” she continued.
“Understand what you are here for. The Crown Prince does not need love. He needs a queen. What is required of a queen is not softness.” She paused.
“It is endurance and strength.”
Her handmaids stepped forward.
”You will stand,” the queen said simply.
That was all.
They stood.
The sun rose outside the high windows.
The hall warmed slowly and then became too warm.
The marble floor did not soften.
No one spoke.
No one shifted.
Elyndra fixed her gaze at a point on the far wall and kept her breathing even.
An hour passed.
Perhaps more.
Beside her, she heard breathing grow uneven.
Someone’s foot moved against the floor, a small adjustment, quickly corrected.
Somewhere down the line, a very faint sound.
A sway.
Then a soft collapse.
One of the princesses, a girl in pink dress who had been trembling almost since the beginning collapsed slowly.
Two servants appeared from the sides of the hall immediately and carried her out.
No announcement.
No reaction from the queen.
The doors closed.
The rest kept standing.
—
It was around the middle of the morning they were released to the side hall where the maidservants had had prepared tea and light food.
The princesses moved into smaller groupings.
The hall filled with the polite conversation of girls.
Elyndra took a cup of tea and stood near the window.
She heard princess Lythia before she saw her.
Her footsteps were light and warm.
Then the girl was beside her, close enough to speak quietly, her expression was warm yet not welcoming.
”Princess Elyndra.” Her voice was soft.
“You must be exhausted. Such a long journey from Velmora.”
”The distance was long but I’m fine,” Elyndra said pleasantly.
Lythia’s smile stayed exactly where it was.
Her eyes moved briefly to Elyndra’s hairpins, to her gown.
”Still,” she said.
“Some of us have spent our whole lives preparing for this.”
Elyndra looked at her.
”Yes” she said simply.
A small pause.
Lythia’s fingers tightened around her teacup.
Not much.
Just enough.
Her tea spilled on the floor then a little on Elyndra’s dress.
She didn’t apologize.
She smiled instead, excused herself with a graceful dip of her head, and walked away.
Elyndra watched her go.
Then she looked down at her own tea and didn’t drink it.
—
By evening they were all summoned again for the evening meals.
The palace felt colder yet the air in the hall had gone too still.
The meals were brought in and the maidservants moved between the princesses with trays.
Elyndra took a cup from the tray when it came to her.
She held it.
The conversation around her was low and warm.
Princesses voices easier than they’d been in the morning.
Steam rose from the cup in her hands.
She looked at it without drinking.
Something was off.
She couldn’t have named it exactly.
Just a feeling.
She lowered the cup.
Set it on the table beside her.
Not long after, Princess Lothira sat beside her and reached for the cup of tea she kept moment ago.
She drank it and then the scream came seconds later.
Sharp.
Short.
A shattering sound as the cup hit the floor.
Lothira was on the ground, her lips slightly changing colour, her fingers moving in a way fingers shouldn’t move.
Servants fell to their knees around her.
Two princesses stumbled backward.
Someone screamed for a physician.
The queen didn’t move.
”Remove her,” she said coldly.
They did.
The hall went very quiet then slowly the conversations resumed again in a lower voices.
Someone’s hands were trembling around their cup.
Maidservants came and cleared the broken pieces from the floor.
Elyndra hadn’t moved.
She was standing exactly where she’d been, looking at the spot where Lothira had fallen.
She stood very still in the quiet room with the noise of recovering conversations around her, She felt something cold move through her that had nothing to do with the marble floor or the cool evening breeze.
She had almost picked it up again.
She had almost drunk it.
That night she didn’t eat, She waited for the rest to finish their meals before she could leave the hall with them.
When she returned to her courtyard, She rushed inside her room and slid the bolt across the door.
She sat infront of the mirror and loosened her jewelry with shaking fingers.
Jade clinked softly as it fell to the table.
She took her hair down pin by pin, She emptied her tea leaves into the basin.
Rinsed her mouth with the salted wine Senna had left on the side table until her tongue burned.
Outside her window the palace lanterns burned in the dark courtyard, still and patient.
She looked at her own face in the bronze mirror for a long time.
She’d been here less than two days and someone had already decided she was a problem.
She thought about that carefully.
Then she blew out the candle and lay down in the dark.
She did not sleep.