“Lady Brea, get out of bed this instant.” Rowena peeled the covers away from Brea.
“Ugh, how did you even get in here?” Brea had barred the door on the inside and barricaded it with her dresser and half the furniture in her sitting room. It was all still piled in front of the door.
“I have my ways.”
“You can walk through walls?” Brea’s eyes widened.
“Walk through walls? You are in sore need of an education in magic.” Rowena pulled her from the bed and steered her toward the bathroom. “Walk through walls, honestly.”
“Then you can apparate?”
“Stop speaking nonsense words and get in the bath.” Rowena already had the sunken tub filled with hot water and all manner of scented oils and flowers. “You will stop acting like a spoiled child and attend the ball this evening.”
“Nope.” Brea turned to retreat to her room. “I’ve had enough of fae parties to last me a lifetime. No thanks.” She slammed the bedroom door behind her and slid the lock in place.
“You will attend this party as your mothers’ guest.”
Brea whirled around to find Rowena stripping her bed. “How are you doing this?”
“Get in the bath, Brea. You smell like one of your horses.”
“Fine. But I’m not going anywhere, so you can go out however you came in.” Brea stomped to the bathroom where Rowena had opened the doors and windows to let in the fresh air.
Stepping into the warm bath, Brea let out a moan as she sank up to her chin. The tub was large enough for four people and almost deep enough to be called a pool. Clearing her mind of all things Myles, she let herself relax in the bath, washing away days of sweat and tangles from her hair.
“That’s enough, now. Time to get out.” Rowena laid a bath sheet on the rack beside the tub and marched out of the room. “Hurry up child, we have to get you ready for the ball.”
“I’m not going. Besides, isn’t it still afternoon? Don’t balls happen at night?”
“Not in Eldur. Here they happen at dusk. You have an hour to eat something and get dressed. The queens expect you in the courtyard at four.”
“Whoever heard of a ball at four in the afternoon?” Brea slipped under the water to rinse her hair, contemplating not coming back up, if only to escape Rowena’s ministrations. There was no way that woman wouldn’t deliver Brea to the courtyard on time without a hair out of place if that was what Queen Faolan wanted.
“You will ride up to the gardens with the queens. Now, out with you.”
Brea reluctantly left the safety of her bath and wrapped the bath sheet around her. She barely winced this time when Rowena used her magic to dry Brea’s hair. Every drop of water from her hair splattered on the tile floor behind her, leaving her hair soft and dry.
“I need to learn that trick once my magic figures out what it’s doing.” She crossed her sitting room to the vanity that had only moments ago blocked the door. Rowena had moved everything back while she was in the tub.
“Sit.”
“Yes ma’am.” Brea flopped onto the chair, resigned to the fact that she was going to this ball tonight whether she wanted to or not.
“So what’s this party about? We celebrating fae Flag Day now?” Brea had lived among the fae long enough to know they would use any excuse to throw themselves a party.
“I don’t know what Flag Day is, but tonight we are celebrating your eighteenth birthday, and you are Queen Tierney’s guest of honor.”
“It’s my birthday?” Brea slumped against her chair. She couldn’t get out of this or ditch out early. Tierney had been nothing but nice to her. She owed it to her mothers to be there. “I’ve lost all track of time with the weird Fae calendar.”
“Humans don’t know how to keep the proper time.” Rowena busied herself with Brea’s hair. “I hear a rumor that they don’t live long past one hundred.”
“Most don’t live that long.”
“With all their fancy medicines and doctors, you’d think they’d be the ones to live the longest.”
“How old are you, Rowena? If you don’t mind me asking.” She was a grandmotherly sort so Brea had always assumed she was in her seventies, but she was beginning to suspect Rowena might be the oldest person she’d ever met.
“One-hundred-and-eighteen on my last birthday.”
“Wow. Will I live that long?” Brea picked at the scones on the tea tray Rowen brought for her. There was even a pot of Eldur Brew she poured for herself. She hadn’t eaten anything in more than a day, and her stomach growled in angry protest.
“Oh you’ll live much longer, I’m sure.” Rowena tugged on her hair, twisting it into an elegant style she couldn’t manage on her most patient day. “Royals always live longer than commoners.”
“I’m not a royal.” Brea sipped her coffee.
“You might not feel like one, love, but it doesn’t change the fact that your mother is a queen, which makes you of her royal blood.”
“I suppose all the nobles will be in attendance tonight?” Brea changed the subject anytime the conversation went anywhere near the word ‘princess’ in regards to herself.
“Birthday celebrations are a special occasion in Eldur. Tonight, commoners and nobles alike will dine with you and your mothers.”
“Oh no,” Brea groaned. All the commoners she’d met in the marketplace would know who she was by the end of the night. There would be no hiding her link to the palace now.
“That’s right, the whole of Eldur will know you as Lady Brea after tonight.” Rowena chuckled.
“And what must I wear?” Brea had visions of the ridiculous dresses she’d had to wear in Fargelsi and didn’t relish the thought of donning a gown that weighed more than she did.
“It’s a lovely sea foam green silk. I think you’ll like it. The queen chose it for you. She said she wanted you to be comfortable.”
Brea doubted that was possible, but she went through the motions, putting on her underthings, surprised when Rowena skipped the corset.
Rowena held the dress aloft as Brea slipped it over her head. A cloud of soft sea foam silk fell around her, light as a feather. Long, sheer sleeves cascaded to the floor.
“There’s a slit in the sleeves for your hands.” Rowena helped her adjust the fitted sleeve that hugged her arms from the base of her shoulder to her elbows, leaving the rest to flutter behind her when she walked.
With a slit up to her hip, it was a far cry from anything Regan would have put her in.
“It’s beautiful.” Brea gazed at herself in the mirror. The simple dress left her shoulders bare, and it was as comfortable as her sleeping gowns. “Good job, Mom.” She turned to admire the gold trim along the neckline and the gold sandals she would have worn in the human world.
Rowena had threaded a string of golden beads through her hair. It reminded Brea of a tiara, which she didn’t like, but the effect was perfect for the dress.
“I guess I have a birthday ball to get to.” Brea heaved a sigh. It was the last thing she wanted to do when her best friend probably sat in the dungeon in Fargelsi and didn’t have a clue what was happening or why he was involved.