Cora paced inside her room. She felt suffocated — trapped. She wasn't used to the tiny windows, and stuffy rooms wrapped in thick stone that seemed to be all the rage in Forsyth. After what had happened down by the stream, Maren's friend — Lady Knight Lexington Raine — and a small group of men rushed Cora and Maren to the castle where they received emergency treatment.
Cora healed much faster than she ever had before. The Princesses were cautioned about telling anyone of their personal magic, even each other. It was a daunting task for Princesses like Cora whose magic was directly intertwined with their emotions.
Historically, Ruby Princesses always received a physical magic, usually related to heat and fire. The most powerful of them could actually control flame itself, sparking it to life at nothing but their fingertips, or with a whisper. Cora had never been able to produce actual fire, but she learned very young that pressure built within her, causing her to release steam and heat.
It first started when she was very young.
Her father had just left the Palace to return to Garyn, and though Cora knew she should have felt relief, instead there was anxiety. Coldly, he'd reminded her that he was disappointed in her studies. Disappointed that she had allowed the second Princess to surpass her. That Maren's academic success would somehow prove to the Star Court that the Sapphire Princess might be a better choice of ruler.
His month-long stay had been brief, but to Cora, it was endless.
The morning, he departed the castle, while the girls attended the Academy, Cora lashed out. Maren had done better than her on a test. The details were blurred in her mind now, but there were raised voices, the air thick with heat and steam. Tears streaming down her cheeks. It was the first time the pressure building inside her had escaped.
The next thing she remembered was sitting over Maren, the world was twisted, warped and suffocating.
But then there was Maren.
Her hands framed Cora's face. Her touch was a rush, like diving headfirst into a slow, icy stream. With only a touch from Maren, Cora could breathe again.
Cora learned long ago that Maren had the power of healing. It was the kind of information that could have made her as rich as a royal if she were a commoner. Her parents, she was sure, would have sold a gold mine or two for that kind of knowledge.
But Cora never said a word about it.
They questioned her over the years, if she'd found out the Sapphire Princesses power yet, but Cora feigned ignorance. She told them that using powers within the Palace was strictly forbidden and that her and the Sapphire Princess weren't close enough for that.
Cora was sure on that night, just like now, Maren used her powers to save them both.
She stopped to a halt in the room and stared at her bedroom door. Clenching her fist, she felt the rounded object within her grasp. That thing that Maren had jumped for.
She knew what it was the moment she laid eyes on it.
A memory stone.
She opened her fist, holding the plain, violet crystal in her palm. Cora had read about them once before, in the library at the Empire. She vividly remembered the distinct violet glow beneath the churning water, but this stone was not glowing, nor had she received any memories since.
It shone in Maren's hands, but it won't in mine, she grimaced.
Maren had held onto the stone as if her life depended on it, even after she'd passed out. But at that point, the stone had lost its eerie glow. When Lady Knight Raine found the plain crystal in Maren's palm, she had it discarded. Cora hadn't passed out, but her maid recognized that she had a fever and so she was sent to the castle earlier than the rest, alongside Maren.
As Maren was being dragged away, Cora watched as Knight Raine dropped the stone by the riverside, a dark look passing her eyes. Whether it was a confusion or concern, Cora couldn't tell. But she knew Maren had risked her life going after it. She plucked the rock from the ground with the intention of holding onto it until Maren woke up.
She knew their relationship was publicly and privately tumultuous enough that nobody would bat an eye at this action.
Suddenly, a knock came at her door.
"Princess," Harriet said. Cora froze at the sound of her maid's voice; her arms extended at her sides in shock. "I'm coming in."
Cora bolted to the bed, keeping the stone locked tight in her fist while she pretended to be resting.
The door opened slowly, and Harriet stepped in with a tray of iced tea and small round ginger cookies. Her eyes found Cora at once as she scanned the room with that scrutinizing gaze.
Harriet closed her eyes and sighed as if her patience were being tested. She turned on her heel, gliding toward Cora's tea table, and just when Cora thought she'd gotten one over on her maid, Harriet spoke.
"Princess, if you're going to pretend you weren't pacing the room, you'll need to practice quieting your footsteps."
Cora let out an agitated sigh, "What are you, a bat?"
"Just someone who has known you far too long," Harriet replied with a smirk, setting the tray down. "Now, are you going to get up and have your snack, or will I have to feed it to you like you're five again?"
Cora pursed her lips in childish defiance, then hopped out of the creaky bed, letting the stone slip beneath her pillow. She tossed her weight onto the settee and gnawed away at the snack. Harriet meandered around the room, tidying the area while Cora ate in silence. Her mind was far too consumed with Maren.
What had happened that night.
Why she hadn't awakened yet.
How she was feeling.
Who was sitting beside her — and when.
From across the room, Harriet glanced over, eyeing the Princess as she slurped noisily from her cup.
"Oh dear," Harriet said, narrowing her eyes. "With manners like that, your fever truly has regressed you back to age five. It seems I'll have to teach you etiquette all over again."
Cora choked on an ice cube, coughing and hacking violently as she remembered how Harriet ruthlessly hammered manners into her when Cora was young. Finally composing herself, she faced her maid, "I-I was simply deep in thought. No need for all that."
Harriet was silent, watching Cora who looked away sheepishly. Harriet moved across the room, her heels clacking on the stone floor. She gently sat across from the Princess.
"You're worried about the Sapphire Princess, aren't you?" She asked.
Cora went wide eyed, her face flushing a deep crimson. "Absolutely not! Why would I worry about someone as meek and foolish as her!?"
"Because she saved you," Harriet said finally. Her tone was even and expression calm but laced with something hidden. Cora always felt like Harriet was smarter than everyone else in the room, with the way she always spoke in riddles and double-meaning. It was excruciating. Cora loved Harriet, but she was terrified letting something slip.
Cora knew better than anyone in the Palace…
Harriet saw all.
What Cora knew, Harriet knew.
And what Harriet knew, she reported to the King of Garyn.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Cora replied, smoothing her tone, pouring herself another cup of tea. She was sure her face was perfect, as she had been practicing it all her life.
Harriet sat in silence.
Cora lifted the cup, peering at her maid over the glass.
Finally, Harriet spoke, "I've known you for a very long time, Your Majesty. I'd like to think I know every piece of you that exists. When you were young, you'd often ask me for a late-night snack."
She extended a finger, her nail gently tapping the porcelain plate of ginger cookies.
"You loved sweet, cold tea with these." She paused, her serious eyes gazing into Cora's. "But lately I've noticed you've grown accustomed to a different kind of midnight snack."
Cora went rigid at Harriet's words. She didn't move. She didn't speak.
Neither did Harriet. The silence hung in the air, tense.
Cora's heart pumped her body with fear. Nobody had followed them to the kitchen that night. It was far too late — even her little quip about waking the maids was nothing more than a joke to tease Maren.
So how would Harriet know?
Cora forced herself to breath, to slow the pounding in her chest.
There's no way, she told herself. Harriet knows something but there is no way she knows about that.
And yet, her mother's voice echoed in her mind — a memory of the night Cora had been dropped at the Palace in Harriet's care.
Be good, her mother whispered. Harriet sees all.
Suddenly, Hariet's voice cut through the chatter in Cora's mind. "I would also like to say you've known me long enough to trust me. We can't do anything in this world without someone to rely on."
Cora's gaze was locked onto her maids. She wanted to move — to say anything that would move this conversation along — but she couldn't. Cora realized she couldn't fake another smile. She couldn't say she believed her maid.
She loved Harriet, but she simply didn't trust her.
And if Cora couldn't trust Harriet, there was nobody else in the whole world who she could.
Harriet slowly rose from the couch, bending to lift the empty tray.
"Cookies aren't the best midnight snack, anyway," she said, smiling kindly down at Cora.
Cora raised her head, glancing up at her maid.
Harriet finished, "Eggs are a much better option when hungry. Whatever the reason for this change in your pallet, Princess, I'm sure it's good for you…"
Harriet's heels clacked as she moved. Cora sat there, motionless, panic still clawing at her chest, her mind furious with confusion.
How did Harriet know about the eggs?
That's when Cora remembered they hadn't washed their leftover plates or the pan they'd used to make the eggs. She considered that this was nothing more than Harriet's way of expressing her attention to detail. That she had no idea about what sort of oral exploration Cora had done to Maren's mouth with her fingers.
Cora's face burned as she watched her maid walk out the door. Tears threatened her eyes, but she swallowed them down.
But then again, did she truly gather all that from dirty dishes in the sink? And when she mentioned a change in palette, was she truly talking about food?
Cora was terrified.
Terrified of what this could mean.
Terrified that her family could find out what happened.
Harriet's tone was kind, but in her Kingdom, she never knew who was truly on her side, and who was simply another one of her father's roaming eyes.
The door opened with a loud creak and Harriet stopped, glancing back at Cora once more.
"Oh, I almost forgot," a smile playing on Harriet's lips.
"Princess Maren has finally awakened."