The letter crumples in my trembling grasp. I've probably read through it thousands of times, searching for one iota of proof that it isn't real. That perhaps it really isn't my name written in black ink.

But no.

They want me -Lorelei the scullery maid- to attend the coronation. Well, that's not entirely correct. They want Lorelei, the daughter of Roald Ciar.

My mother has declined to attend; she doesn't want to go back to that place. It isn't hard to understand why. When the letter first arrived, she was on the verge of forbidding me to go, but I know there's no getting around this. Lord Moliner will see to it. I know my mother knows as well. She is, however, able to refuse my sister's request to come along. The child has barely spoken to me since.

I have no right to complain about Lord Moliner's insistence that I attend. The year is not over yet. However, he's been trying to get me to accept the offer of taking a place among the prince's candidates. I don't see why. It's obvious that I wouldn't really be considered. It's all a show so that they can say they tried to compensate my family without really doing anything.

Typical.

I sigh and let myself fall back among the flowers. By this time tomorrow, I'll be in the palace. Preparing for a grand celebration. Sampling fine food. Meeting noblemen, once of which whom may be my match.

My stomach churns at the thought.

I know why I'm doing this, and I plan to commit. But... my heart feels like it's breaking.

I turn my head to watch the breeze ripple through the field, forming waves of green, violet, and white. Small, sweet-scented blossoms tickle my nose. It's quiet enough that I can hear the nearby river and the distant birds singing high above. 

Althana has always been, to my memory, a peaceful province, the town of Selona even more so. Rolling fields of green that explode into firey reds and deep blues in the spring. A bubbling river to cool one's feet after a long day of labor. The nearby forest where the sweetest of wild berries grow.

 The warmth of the sun makes my eyes droop shut.

"...lei"

I briefly crack open an eye and see nothing of note. A trick of the wind perhaps. I have no desire to get up at the moment. I so very rarely get a moment to myself these days. I turn over to shield my face from the light.

"Lorelei!"

With a start, I sit up just in time to see a  man running my way.  He stops a few paces from me, catching his breath. He is tall and broad-shouldered with strong arms from his pastime of archery. His features are typical of an Ilysian man: Dark curly hair,  sculpture-like features, and an olive complexion. It's easy to see why the village girls stare as he walks by. I'm no exception myself.

"Dreaming again?" he asks, kneeling down to look at me. His deep green eyes narrow at me."You know Cadey wants you to try on your new dress. The one you were supposed to look at last week. "

"It's fitted to me is it not?" I ask with a wave of my hand. "The seamstress has my measurements, and my mother can quickly mend anything wrong." I pause. "No one really cares what I will be wearing."

"Need I remind you you are meeting the crown prince?" Aiden asks. I see a small amused smile peeking through his amused facade. "I'm sure you'll be expected to wear the gaudiest thing imaginable in his presence."

I pluck a violet and twirl it between my fingers. "If he is the man I remember," I say, "He won't even notice what anyone is wearing. His nose will be in a novel all evening. Tell Cadey I say the gown is pretty."

"Lorelei. Please." His exhausted tone is weaponized guilt.

"Apologies," I murmur. "I didn't know I was causing trouble for you."

Aiden extends his hand to me. He begins to grin."Come on, Carrots," he says. "Maybe a bard will be so taken with you he'll immortalize you in verse. Lady Lorelei, flowers in her hair." 

I scoff at the nickname and avert my eyes, picking pieces of grass from my hair. The copper-colored mess always did have a habit of getting tangled into things. It never used to matter before, but I've recently noticed Aiden looks at me differently when my hair is in a pretty braid or brushed neatly over my shoulder.

It isn't unpleasant.

When I look back at him, he's still grinning eagerly. His smile is infectious. Too infectious. I have to bite down on the inside of my cheek to stop myself from grinning back at him.

"I'd have to wield a sword for that one," I say. "Lorelei, Lady Knight has a nice ring to it, does it not?"

"If they let a lady become a knight in the first place," Aiden says. "A foreign one at that." He leans closer with a smirk. "Have you even lifted a sword by any chance?" He takes my hand. With little effort, I'm pulled to my feet. My hand stays in his for longer than necessary, and I can't help but notice how calloused it is.

"My father taught me basic defensive measures," I say. "Besides. You were able to learn it. It shouldn't be that hard."

"If Cadey weren't so insistent on your presence, I'd dunk you in that river." Aidan laughs. "And you'd have to chop all this off so it doesn't get in the way of combat." He ruffles my hair. "It would be a shame."

"But I could serve your house," I say. "Your knight in shining armor."

"Now that's a thought."

I follow him back to the estate quietly. It is not a long walk, so I try to take in as much of the scenery as possible, committing every small hill and every curve of the dirt road to memory. I won't see it again for some time.

"I hear the ocean is lovely this time of year," Aiden comments.

"I rarely went," I say. "My time was spent in the gardens." Disappointment crosses Aiden's face. I clear my throat. "Oh! But I do recall I enjoyed the days my father took me to the seaside. I had a small collection of shells. I believe I attempted to string some together once."

Aidan takes both of my hands and spins me so that I am facing him. "Then we can go together should we have the time. I'll expect a grand tour."

Suddenly, it's difficult to look him in the eye.

"I-I'll see what I can do. But I'm sure your father would prefer you do that with a pretty noblewoman."Aidan frowns.

"Lorelei. I-"

"You!"

A furious Cadey matches up to us. My stomach twists into knots. Cadey's fury is something to behold. She is well known for her fierce temper and for throwing objects at any servant she deems lazy - my poor mother not excluded.

"Because of you," Cadey hisses, poking at me with a sharpened finger, "I grew three gray hairs within an afternoon!" She points at her head for emphasis. I fail to grasp what it is that she is talking about. While she is quite older than I, her hair is still as black as a raven's wing.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I lost track of time."

In a huff, Cadey grabs my wrist in her vice-like grip and yanks me into the manor. I helplessly wave goodbye to Aiden who seems to be laughing at the sight. The dastard.

I stumble as I'm dragged up the creaking stairs and into my bedroom. My room is small and simple with a low, slanted ceiling and a square window facing east. My tiny bed is shoved against the wall opposite the window with my clothes chest arranged near the foot. By the bed is a small table and chair where I eat my meals. Near the door is a screen for changing as well as a wash basin. A smaller table with a simple mirror stands beside it. I need little else. It can be a little drafty, and the wooden floor creaks with every step, but it's home. And it's safe.

Without a word, Cadey shoves a pale pink dress in my arms, and I step behind the screen to change. I can hear her tapping her foot impatiently. I make haste, struggling to get it over my head

The dress is a lovely thing. The soft fabric is comfortable against my skin, far more so than my usual woolen gowns. The long, full skirt only barely shows the tips of my weathered boots. However, I do not appreciate the long sleeves tight around my arms, or the high collar that slightly squeezes my throat. It's constricting.

I step out from behind the screen, and Cadey circles me, looking me over with her scrutinizing gaze. She immediately - and harshly - adjusts my posture.

"It looks nice enough on you," she says as she circles me. "If it weren't for your hair it would be more flattering." I can hear the distaste in her voice. "You'll need a corset."

I open my mouth, but immediately shut it. It doesn't matter if she is assigned to help me today; Cadey is still my superior. The moment I return, I will be back to following her orders. Cadey grabs my shoulders and shoves me into a chair before grabbing a brush. I hear her sigh and mumble under her breath when she takes a fistful of my hair and holds it up.

"You can't even care for your hair properly," she scolds. "I told you to keep it out of the dirt."

"I'm sorry," is my reply. She frowns at my terse response but makes no comment. With a swift motion, she rakes the brush through my hair. I let out a pained yelp. It doesn't deter Cadey whatsoever, and she continues dragging the brush through my curls.

"Now keep this in mind," Cadey says. " Don't expect special treatment. In fact, you will be the last he even thinks to greet or socialize with."

"Last?" I ask.

Cadey nods and begins to tie my hair into a single braid.

"You are neither an Ilysian noble nor a foreign princess. For him to show any sort of attention towards you before any of them would be seen as a great insult. "

"I understand," I say. I don't mind. I barely saw the prince back at the palace. Even if I did, he isn't the one I'll be pursuing. My sights must be set on a wealthy, but lower-ranking noble. Someone actually obtainable.

"And remember that you are not there to compete for his hand," she continues. I hear her rummage through the nearby side table. "That invitation is a show of charity to show gratitude to your father. Nothing more. Those noblewomen would tear you to shreds if they thought you sought their prize."

"It is good that I have no interest in him then," I reply. "He is not suitable for me. I'd rather not shoulder his responsibilities."

"Yet you'd be perfectly willing to shoulder Lord Aiden's."

"I-" I cast my eyes downward. I haste to think of an argument, but I'm at a loss. I keep my lips firmly pressed together as my skin heats up.

"If he wished to court you, he would have already told his father. We both know Lord Moliner can't deny his son anything. I wager it's why our coffers are nearly empty too. To satisfy that spoiled-" She clears her throat. "You will not repeat that to Lord Moliner."

I nod mutely. Any other response would certainly result in my hair being pulled from my scalp. My hands tighten against the armrests of the chair. I can feel the furnished wood beneath my nails. Slowly, I inhale through my nose.

"I only wish to help Aiden" I whisper. "Nothing more."

"So you're prepared then? You're are prepared for the day when he brings a young lady by the arm to meet his father? Prepared to clean after the children as they run about the manor halls?"

"Aiden? With children?" I force out a laugh.

How absurd.

"Despite what you think, it will happen one day. Sooner than you expect, too. There will be many pretty, wealthy ladies at that ceremony, some of which willing to assist with his financial problems. That deal you made with Lord Moliner won't be needed anymore. Lucky for you."

"My year is almost up anyway," I reply weakly. I fall silent, and Cadey twists my hair into a bun, before inserting a golden pin to make it hold. I look up into the mirror and notice that the golden pin is decorated with a white silk flower. 

"Can you remember how to do this?"

I nod and remove the pin, allowing the braid to fall down my shoulder. Slowly, I roll the metal object between my fingers, admiring the fine craftsmanship. Vinelike patterns are etched into the gold. It's almost too pretty for me to hold. 

Perhaps I'm easily impressed.

"It's fairly simple," I say. " Thank you."

I reach up to undo my braid, but Cadey slaps my hands away. "Sleep with it braided," she says. "It makes you more manageable in the morning." She allows me to stand, and I step across the room to retrieve my woolen gown.

By the time I'm dressed, Cadey is gone. Somberly, I turn my gaze back to the small mirror. I look passable but obviously foreign, something that has hurt my chances with suitors before. I mostly take after my father - a man of Pruin- with my pale skin, wild red hair, and my small, pointed, beak-like nose. As for my mother, I inherited her upturned eyes and rounded face. 

"Lorelei!" An ill-tempered young girl pushes open my door. She is almost a perfect replica of my mother with perfectly straight black hair and dark blue eyes. She points an accusing finger in my direction. "Mother says I can't go with you to the palace!"

"You're too young, Elya," I say. I place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, which she pushes away. "Perhaps when you are older we can arrange for you to go yourself."

Elya scowls, crosses her arms, and sits on my bed, glaring as though I could somehow be intimidated by a child.

"This is why the prince won't pick you! You're boring!"

"I've told you several times: I'm not even a real option!" I cry, exasperated. Elya just rolls her eyes.

"Obviously!"

"Elya!" My mother calls. Her foreign accent is distinct.  She enters the room, her arms crossed. "Is that the last thing you want to say to her before she leaves?"

"If she has the new emperor make me a princess, I'll forgive her," Elya states. The look my mother gives her can melt iron. Elya pales slightly but for only a moment. "If you let me go with her, I'll convince him to marry her! Then we can all live in the castle again."

I snort. What would she know? I'll be impressed if she can even recall a minute detail of the place.

My mother doesn't back down."We will discuss this later." Elya says nothing more, and simply pouts.

My mother marches to my side. "Lorelei. Are you certain about this?"

I nod.

"I'm doing this for you anyway. And Elya. If this goes as planned, we'll never go hungry again, and you'll see a real physician. You'll be as healthy as you were before we lost Father."

My mother nods, brushing a stray tear from her eye. "I'd rather you didn't have to," she says. "Had I the gold, I'd take you and your sister back to my homeland. But. I suppose that is just the world we live in."

She reaches into the satchel at her side and produces a small wooden box barely the size of my palm. When she opens it, I'm greeted by the sight of a pendant with a small bluish-violet stone bound by a thin thread of leather. It can't be worth much gold, but to my mother...

"This was a gift from your father. It matches your eyes almost perfectly. 'Twould be a shame for you not to wear it." Her gentle tone leaves no room for argument. I'd only feel guilty to reject such a thing. She places the box in my hands. I grip it tightly, holding it to my chest.

"Thank you."

"Lorelei, " my mother says slowly. She pinches my cheek. "Promise me you won't be foolish. Do as you're told. Mind your manners. Don't get over your head."

I nod.

"The capital isn't that far away. I'll be back before you know it!" I say with the brightest smile that I can muster before I hug her tightly."It would take the entire palace guard to keep me away from you and Elya."

"And Lord Aiden," my mother adds with a knowing smile.

Embarrassed, I pull away and turn my back to her.

"We may both have suitors by the end of the evening," I say.

"I can only hope." My eyes widen at what she is implying.

"Mother!"

She chuckles at my indignation. "I think that you should tell him. You'll regret it later if you don't."

I shake my head.

"No," I say. "It would help no one. " I draw a deep breath. "I'll pick someone kind. And noble. And able to take care of us." I force a smile. 

I gaze out of my room's tiny window. Through it, I can see the road that will take us to the palace. It stretches through the fields, across the river, and into the distance far beyond what I can see. I've thought of venturing beyond the bridge on many occasions, but I never worked up the courage nor the funds.

There's also the issue of Mother and Elya. I couldn't leave them behind.

It's hard to imagine I'll actually be leaving. It's just unfortunate that I'll be returning to that place. I'll have to convince whatever suitor I get to come back home with me or allow my mother and sister to live with us if I can manage to get a suitor. 

It's only for a night, anyway.

One uneventful night.