She didn’t follow him.
She also didn’t have any kind of clock or watch, so that was…
Actually not the smartest idea.
She had no idea how long she’d been sitting there, and it was so easy to lose track of time.
…She didn’t regret it though.
Sitting out in the garden didn’t feed her body, but it did give her peace and comfort that no other place did.
And there was the chance…
She had boldly said she’d force her way back out here if she had to, but if he simply placed guards, there was no real way she could get past them.
Not in this frail body, for certain.
Clearly he knew that.
Anyone who glanced at her would know that.
So…
She stayed until the sun began to set and the chill began to become unbearable.
Only then did she push herself to her feet, shivering and walking back into the palace.
Her teeth chattered, and she rubbed her arms with her hands.
The hallways were silent.
And she realized…
She hadn’t exactly been mapping her way back, either.
She’d been exploring the place, certainly.
But…
She hadn’t been paying attention to where she was or what paths she was taking.
It was just such an unusual maze of a building.
So she’d have to figure that part out, too.
Where was the hall?
Where would she eat?
It probably didn’t matter today but-
She reached out for a maid who passed by.
“Excuse me…”
The woman turned and gave a small curtsy, “Your Highness. How may I assist you?”
She bit her lower lip.
“…I’m afraid I’m a bit lost. Could you tell me where the dining hall is, please?”
“Certainly. Please, follow me.” The maid turned and led the way down the hall.
“Thank you,” Rache said, falling in behind her.
She followed along quietly, glancing around at her surroundings.
They passed by several rooms that looked empty, but others had people in them, talking or eating.
Eventually they came to a set of doors.
They were large and ornately decorated with carvings of animals and flowers.
Rache stared at them, feeling slightly nervous.
She’d never seen anything like this before.
She drew in a deep breath.
It wasn’t like Donncahd would be there.
He’d have moved on as soon as he could, if he ever sat in there at all.
His opinion on their forced cohabitation was obvious from the moment they arrived.
But she had no idea what else she would see.
She bit her lip, and then pressed one pale hand to the engraved wood, pushing the door inward.
Was nothing but an empty room.
A modest dining table sat in the middle of the room, but there was no sign of life.
Even the candles were out.
The servant next to her offered an apologetic smile.
“…Did you perhaps miss mealtime, Your Highness?”
She shook her head slightly, gaze still focused on the table.
“I chose to.”
That was at least mostly true.
There was a bit of pity in the girl’s eyes.
“…The…tradition is very strict, Your Highness. It’s for the good of the kingdom.”
Her lips quirked up into a faint smile.
It made sense, of course.
In a nation that practiced strict political marriages for power and influence like Sidera seemed to, there was absolutely no reason to believe the new prince and princess or king and queen would have feelings for each other.
For the sake of the kingdom, and perhaps for those people themselves, it would be necessary to ensure they had time to bond afterward.
It made sense to her.
But.
In this case…
Neither Donncahd nor her…
Had any interest in the other, nor the intention of bonding in any way.
They both would be happy to leave each other alone.
The only thing this tradition was forcing…
Was misery.
“…Your Highness.”
Her gaze turned to the dark eyes of the maid.
The girl curtsied, and spoke softly to the floor.
“…The servants will be…distributing the extra food amongst themselves in the kitchen about now.” She glanced up.
“…You could join them. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind the company of royalty.”
Rache stared down at the maid.
The words made no sense.
Join them?
“That would be-”
Her voice was surprised, unintentionally sharp.
The girl flinched in fear.
…It wasn’t her intent.
But.
Sidera was….
Not easy, was it?
Not for anyone.
Her hand gently settled on the maid’s shoulder.
“…Thank you.” Her voice came out in a whisper this time.
“…I think I’d enjoy that.”
The maid was younger than her.
Not the motherly sort.
But her smile.
Was a ray of sunlight that broke through the constant drizzle of Sidera.
Rache followed after the maid, wordless, as they walked through the twists and turns of the wedding palace.
The designs gradually became less grand, less beautiful, and less striking.
The hallways narrowed and the ceiling lowered.
Even without her experience as a maid in Aurania, it was obvious she’d entered the servants’ hall.
It felt familiar, though, in a way that made her relax a little, her posture softening.
She didn’t realize it until just that moment…
But it seemed the luxury and grandness of the place she was staying had put her a bit more on edge than she expected it would.
Her gaze turned to the young woman in front of her, walking down the hallways, and Rache frowned a little.
“…What’s your name, again?”
She glanced over her shoulder with a smile, and answered, “It’s Fiadh, Your Highness.”
Rache smiled.
“It’s a pretty name, Fiadh.” She glanced away, down a side hall.
“…Do you always work here?”
The girl shook her head.
“Although there is a small group of us who do live here even when there are no royal weddings.”
Yes, it made sense to her.
Otherwise they’d have to set up the palace every time, and undo the decay caused by a lifetime of no attention.
She understood Sideran efficiency enough to anticipate there’d be permanent residents of this place.
“…It must be nice to live here when there are no royal visitors.”
Fiadh ducked her head to try to hide her smile.
Rache saw it anyway.
“I-it’s. What I’ve heard, Your Highness…” Fiadh cleared her throat, lowering her voice and looking around as if she were a spy revealing some kind of treachery,”But…last time was different.”
She had a sort of dreamy smile as she spoke.
“…the royal couple that was here last were so in love they wouldn’t even let us enter their wing of the house.”
She shook her head, “I wasn’t there, but…we would just leave the food in front of the door, and they would retrieve it and leave the plates there when finished. They had to do all the cleaning and making the beds themselves.”
Her gaze turned toward the ceiling, a soft sigh escaping her lips.
“…It was probably so romantic, to have so much privacy.”
…That was…
Strange.
She hadn’t even considered that Donncahd’s parents would be romantic.
“Those were…the current king and queen…?”
The maid nodded quickly.
“Our King Conor and the late Queen Isla. The king was very sad when she died. I heard that he refused to even leave his room for months.”
Rache glanced over at the girl.
There was no reason to doubt her – it would be a strangely specific thing to lie about, and if Fiadh were trying to reassure her, surely she’d make it about Donncahd.
And it sounded sincere.
Which meant that the king, the father of Donncahd, had loved deeply.
How strange.
It seemed completely alien to the behavior Donncahd displayed.