Chapter 6
It was an hour before Spencer came back to see her. She didn't really mind or notice as her thoughts swirled. But when he entered the room, she sat up with a start, her arms out.
“I missed you,” she said, and he chuckled, kissing the top of her head.
“Was it that long?” he asked.
“No,” she laid her head on his chest, “but it felt like an eternity.”
“It felt like an eternity in the meeting, as well,” he answered. “Nicholas has an endless supply of problems and not enough agents to deal with them.”
“Like what?” she sat back, feeling calmer now that he was back with her. She brushed the hair out of her eyes, settling back against the pillows.
“Don't worry yourself about it,” he said. “We will take care of it. In the meantime, they have invited you to stay the night, and for dinner.”
“Oh,” she said. “That's very kind. I had thought we'd just go grab food.”
He raised an eyebrow, and she realized that she had probably said something wrong.
“That's not a thing people do, is it?”
“Not here,” he answered. “Here, they follow the rules of old. They dress for dinner.”
“Like, fancy?” she glanced at her backpack. “I did not bring fancy. The nicest thing I brought is a decent pair of jeans.”
“I'm sure you'll look lovely either way,” he replied. “But if you are in need of a dress, I can certainly ask if you can borrow one. Nicholas' wife is about your size. I'm sure she has a few.”
“I wouldn't want to be a burden when we just got here,” she said, but he rose.
“It's no burden,” he said, looking around the room. “I think we stayed in this room before.”
“My grave,” she said. “I saw the corners of the palace in the hallway. Is that where you got the inspiration for my grave?”
He turned back to her, a smile on his face.
“Do you like them?” he asked.
“Yes, they are beautiful,” she said, searching her mind. “I liked them before, didn't I?”
“You did,” he said. “You always admired them, no matter how many times we came here. So, when the opportunity came to customize your grave, I thought it was appropriate.”
“That's nice of you,” she said. “Although the idea of a grave scares me.”
“Why?” his brow furrowed. “You've always had a beautiful, well-attended funeral, with–”
“No, not that part,” she said. “Just the idea of staying in one place forever. I always thought that I would be cremated and scattered.”
“Oh, my love,” he said with a smile, “you aren't exactly staying in one place forever, are you?”
She paused. “I guess not,” she said with a grin. “So perhaps that explains such a fear.”
“Give yourself time,” he tried to reassure her. “Things will come back into focus. You will soon feel more like yourself.”
“Am I different?” she asked, and he let out a breath.
“A little,” he admitted. “But I'm sure it's just the times. Now, I'll see about that dress.”
“Thank you,” she said as she reached to undo her hair. “I'll just attempt to make myself pretty while you're gone.”
“You are always pretty,” he said, as he went to the door. “I'll see you soon.”
She blew him a kiss and then got off the bed, heading to the vanity.
Her reflection stared back at her, young and lean, with an oval-shaped face. Her eyes stood out more in the sunlight, making her face asymmetrical. She cocked her head, closing one eye.
It made her feel almost normal to only see one color. It changed the way she looked–from unique to standard. She had never felt she was beautiful, but then again, she had never thought much about her looks. Her parents had told her it was school that mattered, along with a career and a friendly smile.
And yet, her eyes were changing her life.
When Spencer returned, it was with a beautiful, purple dress that took her breath away. It had long sleeves and a full-length skirt that came with layers of tulle underneath it. She could tell by the touch of the fabric that it was more expensive than anything she had ever owned.
“Oh my,” she said, taking it. “Thank you. This is beautiful. Although, these sleeves....”
Normally, a dress with a full skirt would be sleeveless. He cleared his throat as she fingered them. “The women here are more conservative than on Earth,” he said.
“Old-fashioned,” she said, and he shook his head.
“It's more about equality. Women are equal to men here in all respects. When Peter was king and he had no wife, it was Ariel by default. The queen owns fifty percent of the kingdom and has equal opinion on all matters. The women do not use any tactics of beauty here; it's unnecessary. Beauty comes in the mind and in the smile.”
“That's what my parents taught me,” she said. “I was just thinking about that.”
“That and dragon women are stunning, always,” he said, stepping closer to her. “Almost as stunning as you.”
“Mmm,” she relaxed in his arms. “Did you want to help me dress?”
She thought that she was teasing him, but he looked away, stepping back.
“One day, my love. One day. But for now, I'd rather wait to preserve your modesty.”
“My reputation,” she said. “It's clashing values, don't you think?”
“No,” he said, looking up. “I respect you for so much more than what your body can offer. When we are married, we will enjoy all of those pleasures, and it will be worth the wait.”
“All right,” she smiled, accepting this reason. It was refreshing compared to Earth views, and she found that she enjoyed it. Perhaps it was her upbringing, or perhaps it was just happiness at a change of pace. Either way, she was grateful. “Thank you.”
“Get changed, and I'll be waiting outside,” he said. “I will escort you to the dining room, where you meet the rest of the royal family.”
“But no pressure,” she replied, turning back to the mirror and holding the dress up to her neck. “I'll see you in a moment.”
“Do you need me to send in a maid to assist you?”
“No, I've got it.” She smiled at him in the mirror. “I've been dressing myself for quite a while. I'll figure it out.”
“As you wish.” He bowed his head and left.
As soon as he was gone, she stripped down, stepping into the dress.
It proved harder than she thought. There weren't any zippers; it was all ties and buttons. She sucked in her small stomach, spinning the dress around to button up the front before turning it around to the back and struggling into the sleeves. She felt the sweat drip down her back and briefly considered getting the maid. But she told herself that she was a strong, independent woman, and she could dress herself.
It took nearly half an hour before she felt like she looked presentable. She ended up braiding her hair and putting it behind her neck, leaving a few twists hanging down. She didn't usually wear makeup, and so she simply scrubbed her face, hoping she didn't look too tired. She pinched her cheeks and smiled at herself in the mirror, forcing energy into her eyes. Spencer was probably wondering if she died, but she couldn't possibly go to dinner with royals looking like she had just run the track at school.
She had never pictured herself having dinner with princes in any version of her life. This was just as novel as being transported here.
In the mirror, her reflection showed a mature, young lady. With a high collar and long sleeves, she felt like a proper adult, her hair dripping down and her eyes sparkling. She was so used to jeans and polos, vintage dresses with cutouts, and black eye liner. The woman that stared back at her made her look twice at herself.
Maybe she could do this after all.
She finally stepped into the hallway where Spencer was leaning against the wall.
“Sorry,” she said. “The dress and I got into a fight.”
“It was worth the wait,” he assured her, looking her up and down. “You look wonderful.”
“You clean up nice, too,” she said, noticing that he had changed into a dark suit. It didn't look quite right for Earth, but within these beautiful halls, it was perfect. She almost lost her breath at how handsome he was with his yellow eyes and strong jaw. He held out his arm, and she took it, drifting down the hall.
“Are there any table manners I should know about?” she asked. “That are different from Earth?”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “No. The only thing that may be different is that no one eats until the king does.”
“Whose name is Peter,” she remembered. “I can do that.”
“Then you'll be perfect,” he laid a kiss on her head as they approached the banquet halls. The doors were several feet high and intricately carved. Two guards pulled it open, and Katianna resisted gasping again.
It was even more beautiful than what she had seen, if that was possible.
There was a long banquet table, with only a few place settings put out. The table cloth was ivory white, and the plates were crystal with the same gold as the hallways painted around the edge. The cutlery looked to be made of pure white gold, and the glasses at the place settings were majestic tumblers.
“Oh my,” Katianna said, taking it all in. “I'm almost afraid to eat dinner here. I might ruin something.”
“This is a dragon table,” Spencer assured her. “It's seen worse than a human dropping food, I promise.”
“That's a boost for my confidence,” she said, and smiled at him.
“Spencer.”
She spun around as a voice spoke. She recognized Nicholas from the pictures, his wife Rosa on his arm.
“Oh, my goodness,” Nicholas' mouth fell open as Katianna met his eyes. “You weren't joking.”
“My lord,” Spencer tipped his head. Katianna followed his lead and gave a small curtsey. Rosa was beautiful, clearly a princess, with a tiara woven into her brown hair, and several, heavy rings on her fingers. “May I introduce Katianna, my once and future wife.”
“I'm Rosa,” the witch-girl said with a smile. “Welcome to Umora. Again, as I understand.”
“I'm trying to remember,” Katianna gave her a pained smile. “Have we met before, too?”
“No,” Rosa said, smiling at her husband. “We are recently married, although I did hear about you once.”
“I told you when she died,” Nicholas said. “Spencer was torn up.”
“That I was,” Spencer replied.
“But don't be sad anymore.” Cole entered with Enya on his arm. “She's here. And my brothers will be here shortly.”
“Oh, the dress looks perfect on you,” Enya went right to Katianna, holding out her hands. Katianna was warmed by her friendliness and smiled.
“Thank you for lending it to me,” she said.
“Nonsense,” Enya replied. “The first time I came to Umora, I had nothing to wear as well.”
“Neither did I,” Rosa pointed out. “I had just given birth hours before.”
Katianna turned to Rosa. “You win this round,” she said.
Rosa smiled. “Turns out it was worth it,” she said. “Motherhood does bring on a hunger. Shall we sit at least?”
She led the way to the table, the men pulling out the chairs for the ladies. Katianna was even afraid to sit on the chairs, for they were so beautiful.
But she only had the chance to sit for a moment before trumpets blared, and everyone's head turned to the door.
Spencer rose right away, and she followed suit, looking confused.
“The king,” he said, and Katianna felt her heart leap.
What a day this was turning out to be, she thought, as the majestic doors opened.