Sworn To Transfer

Chapter 17

Sneaking around the Imperial palace wasn’t Ciardis’s finest moment. But sometimes a girl had to do what a girl had to do. She hit a secret panel in the wall and ducked out of the servants’ corridor once she made her way from the Imperial nursery and closer to the heir to the throne’s living quarters. Warily, Ciardis kept an eye on everything around her.

The sun was setting and the sky was beginning to darken with the orange glow of the fading daylight. She eased around a corner silently and ran straight into a butler. Quickly, Ciardis stumbled back with an apology.

Before she uttered more than, “I’m sorry,” the man interrupted her with a brusque tone. “Are you the new serving girl?”

Ciardis stared at him uncomprehendingly for a moment. Stepping back, he thrust a silver tray laden with cakes into her hands. “Right, yeah. Listen, you were supposed to be in the Turquoise Room one minute ago. You’re late.”

Too late she realized it was the dress. A serviceable dull brown, it fit right in with the dresses of the serving girls scurrying up and down the corridor.

“But I’m—”

“Lost? Yes, I know. Happens to all of us,” he said, firmly turning her around by the shoulders.

“Down the hall, take a right, and head down the curved set of steps. You’ll serve the Prince Heir first and the head of the Weavers’ Guild second.”

Ciardis had been about to protest his manhandling her, but shut her mouth with a click of her teeth when she heard the words “Prince Heir.”

Well, I was looking for him. Seems I’ve found him.

Deciding to go along with a backwards glance at the butler who was already turning away to redirect another girl, Ciardis walked toward the Turquoise Room as directed. Her golden eyes were twinkling in mischief; she couldn’t help it and wondered with amusement how Sebastian was going to extract himself from the meeting and get her out of the room at the same time.

Adroitly handling the silver tray she swept down the curved steps and prepared to step onto the landing into the Turquoise Room. And that was when she heard the voice.

The woman’s smooth words floated up the steps toward Ciardis, and she froze. Maree Amber was inside. She’d know that voice anywhere.

Quickly realizing that her adventure was going to get her into a hell of a lot more trouble than she’d bargained for, she began to quietly back up the stairs, wishing the platter she carried was small enough for her to maneuver around in the tight space and flat out run.

“Hey,” came a quick whisper in her ear, “what do you think you’re doing?”

Ciardis hesitated. “I forgot some food for my platter. Need to go back up and get it.”

“Doesn’t matter, we can add it to the table later,” was the girl’s exasperated retort.

“But...but it’s the Prince Heir’s favorite.”

“And how would you know that?” said the girl in disgust.

“Look, I just need to get...”

“I don’t know what you’re playing at, but you won’t get me fired. Now move.”

Seeing no alternative, Ciardis walked back down the stairs and into the room while trying her best to hide her face with the platter. Unfortunately the tactic wasn’t going to work. It was a small room with less than five people inside. Ciardis included.

In the center of the room was a round table with glassware, plates, an overflowing cornupia of fruits and glazes for the treats. Around the table sat three individuals: Prince Heir Sebastian Athanos Algardis sat with his back to Ciardis; to his left was the head of the Companions’ Guild, Maree Amber; and to his right, staring directly at Ciardis with an unsavory gleam in his piglike eyes, was the man Ciardis assumed was the head of the Weavers’ Guild. The man never took his eyes off of her as she balanced the tray and kept a nervous eye on the occupants of the table.

Even in a simple dress her curvaceous figure showed through, and Ciardis felt dirty under his steady gaze; it was as if he were mentally undressing her. He probably was. Shakily, she came up on the prince’s left and set the first entree down on the table. Sebastian hadn’t turned his head or acknowledged her presence. But Ciardis knew that he was aware of her from the moment she had stepped into the room. Their bond had its useful moments.

Sebastian reached to pick up his napkin on his left side as she was withdrawing her right hand from the rim of his plate.  His hand brushed hers and he sent his thoughts to her when they touched briefly.

You are not supposed to be here.

I’m quite aware. Don’t suppose you could help get me out of here?

It was her only chance to reply before she turned to serve the head of the Companions’ Guild. Hell, if she were going to get in trouble, she might as well follow proper table etiquette. The more powerful the guild, the higher in rank they were. And the Companions’ Guild definitely outranked the Weavers’ Guild. There was no way she’d be caught serving that pig before she served the Head of her guild, no matter what the butler said.

As she balanced the silver tray in her right hand and held the small platter on top with her left, she prepared to set it before the woman who was going to kill her for being here. But then she stopped. Before she could even move the small plate of food in the woman’s direction, Maree Amber raised her hand in a commanding gesture. She didn’t turn; she didn’t speak. She showed Ciardis the back of her hand in a silent order to hold the food.

Ciardis didn’t question her; she just moved to circle around the table and give the leering man his platter. She had just walked around the back of Maree Amber’s chair when he smiled and also held up his hand. This time the head of the Weavers’ Guild spoke.

“I prefer you where you are,” said the guild head as sweat trickled down his forehead onto his fat jowls. He picked up a napkin to wipe his forehead and smiled at Ciardis – his lips stretched back over yellowed teeth and his beady eyes squinting from inside the fatty folds of a face too used to over eating. She felt like she needed a bath. She could feel Sebastian’s disgust and anger as well. Although his face was expressionless.

Snapping back to her duties she had no idea what to do now that two of her guests had turned down the food. She hoped it meant she could leave the room. Quietly she began to back away towards the entrance she came in. The second serving girl looked at her with horrified eyes and shook her head swiftly with an angry look. Uncertain, Ciardis stopped and watched as the other girl set out silverware. After the serving girl had unfolded a napkin in the lap of each patron and set out the silverware within reach she began to back away from the table while motioning for Ciardis to do the same. Ciardis did as suggested, never turning around as she walked backwards while mimicking the careful pace of the other servant until she felt the wall behind her.

Over the next hour and a half, Ciardis’s eyes glazed over and she fought to stand stiff as she watched Sebastian listen to the head of the Weavers’ Guild make a case for the import of special cloth fabrics from the Ameles Forest at market rate. Curiously, Maree Amber did nothing and said nothing further the entire time.

Ten minutes after the hour and a half had passed, the butler opened a panel in the room and motioned for the two serving girls to follow him into the hallway outside. As he prepared to close the door, Prince Sebastian commanded, “Aaron.”

The butler startled and whispered for the girls to wait in the semi-dark corridor as he hurried to the Prince Heir’s side. When he came back after a brief moment, he told the other servant girl to wait in the kitchens. Before Ciardis could head off, he held her back and said, “You are coming with me.”

“I don’t think so. I really am not...”

“The prince has asked me to personally escort you to his chambers,” he said. “I don’t know what you said or did, but you’re lucky. I know women who’d give their left arm to be in your place.”

Ciardis paused, wondering what place he thought that was.

“Just remember. I got you there.”

Really? He’s going to take credit for my seduction or whatever he thinks this is?