Chapter 6 Lace

When I wake in the morning, it’s to the sound of people talking outside my curtain. I roll over away from the morning light, burying my head into my blankets. There’s movement behind me, and I stifle a groan as I hear someone knock against the wall of the curtain. 

“Milady?” Felix’s voice sounds, and I immediately sit up, blanket pulled up to my chin. I wait for him to barge in like any man would at home, but his silhouette stays behind the curtain. “We’ve been requested. I’ve had a bath drawn up for you.” 

“Thank you,” I call out, falling back against the pillows. I close my eyes for a moment more before sitting up, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. Felix’s silhouette is no longer standing at my curtain.

I stand, moving toward the other doorway of my room. It opens up into the bath, the water resting in a hole dug into the wood. It smells herby and floral, and, oh, I slide in, the warm water calming every ache my body has. 

I sit there longer than necessary, the water has long since cooled. I trail my fingers along the sides of the dip, humming a lullaby my eldest sister used to sing for me. 

Everything feels different here. The air, the silence, even the way the sunlight feels…it’s not wrong, just new. No one demanded anything of me, no maids hurrying me about my routine to appease whatever word came from my sister. 

I should feel good to be left alone, but I feel wrong. Almost like I’d rather have someone here bossing me around. 

With a quiet breath, I rise out of the water, reaching for the pile of cloth sitting nearby. I dry myself, using something mundane to reel my mind in. 

I step back into my room, already wearing the thin undercloth, and eye the wardrobe. On one side, you have the light fabric that is known to this kingdom with flowing layers of muted greens and pale golds. I grab one, pulling it up over my shoulders. It slips easily over my skin, settling into place without resistance. 

I fluff the skirt for a moment before sighing. It’s too easy, too unstructured as if I don’t have any support. There is a mirror in the corner, and I glance over at it with a frown. 

Yeah, sure, it’s beautiful. 

It just doesn’t feel like me. 

I glance over at the other side, the side Felix had prepared for dresses from home. Running my hands over them, I smile. I make it to the corsets and frown, pulling one out. It’s not like home. It’s softer and more flexible, reinforced with something far more subtle than what I’m used to. It won’t cage my ribs, but it still feels like home. 

I slip it around my waist, adjusting it and pulling it into place until it sits just right against her body. She glanced over at the mirror, and she smiled. The corset sits over the bodice, the warm brown looking right at home with the rest of the dress.

The smile never leaves my face as I reach back, my fingers finding the laces in the back.  

Right.

I twist slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of them over my shoulder. No matter how I twist or contort my limbs, I can’t get them hooked. I huff out, dropping my arms. I straighten up and try again. 

And again.  

I just can’t get it. Maybe I’m just too used to having people help me. There have always been extra hands that knew exactly what to do without question. Here, well, all I have is myself. 

Well, not just myself. 

I hesitate, and then I let out a sigh. 

“Hello?” I call out, my voice echoing back to me. 

There’s no answer. I shift my weight, debating whether or not to give up on the corset.

“Anyone?” I call out again. 

There’s a pause before I hear powerful feet and a voice just outside her curtain, “Princess Alaina?” 

Felix. 

Of course it would be him. My heart jumps into my throat. I can’t answer, my throat seemingly broken. I’m suddenly very aware of the loose fabric at my shoulders, the half-laced corset over my back. 

Felix steps into the doorway, stopping immediately when he sees me. He seems to freeze for a moment, his dark eyes glancing over me before he clears his throat. He asks, “is something wrong?” 

I turn quickly, presenting my back to him to hide the deep red blush that has spread over my face. I stutter out, “nothing, my lord. I just…I can’t tie these on my own.”

“Do you want some help?” He asks, his voice low and careful, as if giving me time to actually consider my answer. My blush deepens, and I let out a sigh. 

“Yes,” I admit, “if you don’t mind.”

There’s a brief pause before he steps closer. His hands grab the ties, and he says, “I don’t mind at all.” 

My breath catches slightly as he steps even closer. He starts tightening it, his fingers brushing the fabric as he makes it up my back. When he makes it above the mage dress, his warm fingers brush the skin of my upper back, a shiver makes its way down my back at the accidental touch.

I stiffen, and he pauses, his fingers still grazing skin. 

“Are you cold?” He asks, his voice softer now, closer than before. “Did I hurt you?” 

“No,” I say, too fast, almost sounding like I’m trying to appease him. I clear my throat and answer again, “I am fine. You’re doing great.” 

He accepts this, and he resumes, moving even more gently than before. His fingers work gently, tightening the laces while avoiding getting my hair caught in them. 

“Do you want your hair loose like this?” he asks, finishing up the top. 

“What?” I ask, turning back toward him. 

“Your hair,” he says, reaching up to play with a lock that had fallen over my shoulder. “Do you want it loose? Or I can braid it. I can even find an attendant to come put it up.” 

“You know how to braid?” I ask, my smile widening. I try to picture him, this strong, tall man, braiding someone’s hair. 

"I have too many sisters to not have picked up on it,” he shrugs, tilting his head with a warm smile. “I can braid yours if you like.” 

“Fine,” I say, folding my arms, “but I get to blame you if I look bad when I meet your family.”

“Deal.”