Chapter 2 : The Spare

Ayda's POV I craned my head back until my neck wouldn't allow me to go any further. And still, I could not make out the end of the fan-vaulted ceilings. Only that it had been painted or sculpted in such a way that it appeared to look like an eternal night sky. Pinpricks of candelabra light peeked through the dense indigo-like starlight, winking in ways that made me suspect that perhaps magic was real. A giant chandelier was suspended in the center, bigger than any carriage I'd ever ridden in, done in the form of a stylized black moon. A symbol of whose court I was in. The elusive Obsidian Moon pack. The most powerful of us all. August took that exact moment to spit up on my pressed shirt front. "Nam-Nah!" he said, proud of himself and the mess he'd made. The looks the staff was giving us as I searched my pockets for a handkerchief. Like silver-edged daggers… I put my olive suitcase down, my only one as I didn't have much, and wiped at the mashed bananas I'd fed my son early. I'm sure they'd set a room up for me, but I wasn't sure where. The driver had dropped me off, pointing to the doors that would lead me to this very foyer, and that was that. Narcissa hadn't made any attempt to contact me since a week ago, and the bustling staff was refusing to make eye contact with the scandalous single mother. Half of me wished I had caved with Henrietta's persistent badgering to let her tag along, but I didn't want to overstep any bounds. I knew the rules of court, had them memorized by the time I could walk, and one simply did not abuse another's hospitality like that. That didn't stop me from wishing for a familiar face, though… "Are you Ayda?" I blinked, soiled handkerchief still in hand, as Gus cooed against my breast. There was a dainty doll of a woman in front of me, so small I'd almost thought her younger than she was. She had big, down-turned eyes fringed with the longest lashes I've ever seen, the color a vibrant lavender. Her rich dark hair was pinned back in a chignon, decorated with a simple black-and-white mob cap as befitting her station. She curtsied, but the manner was clumsy, like she wasn't used to the motion. I liked her immediately. "Yes, I am," I stuffed the soiled hanky in a pocket, quick to shake her hand. The maid looked surprised and thrilled at that and eagerly returned the gesture. "And who might you be?" "Nicolette," she smiled, dimples shyly showing. "It's my first time serving as a maid to a pack as high as this. I was working in Lodestone Falls with the Pyrites before. Heard of them?" "I'm afraid I haven't," the Lodestone Falls territory was owned by the pack of their namesake and generally kept to themselves. It was a haven for lesser packs who'd grown weary of increasing political tension at court, but much more than that old history tidbit lesson eluded me. "But I've heard the ravines are awe-inspiring." Nicolette blushed, lacing her fingers together once our hands parted. "That's—that's really nice of you to say. Most of the other people in the castle look down upon Lodestone or my former mistress, Elena Zaragoza. 'A step away from common,' they like to say." "Nothing wrong with common," I tried to keep my voice even; I could tell by how her eyes darted around that she was skittish for a reason. No need to give prying eyes and gossiping mouths a good show. "I find that common people have a lot more interesting things to say than high-borns." "Don't let Lady Narcissa hear that," Nicolette mumbled, taking my bag from me. She walked backward as she talked, knowing her way well enough not to bump into anything along the way. "You do not want to be on her bad side." She gave a theatrical shiver that made a couple of the loose curls around her face wiggle about. "Duly noted." I followed Nicolette down more corridors than I could mentally take note of, the castle larger than the palace of Emerald Lake by a score. We turned the corner, and the hallway was a little less spectacular, exposed beams of Bocote wood and smoke-gray plaster walls. Servant quarters. "Well, here we are," my room was a quaint number two doors down from the end. The walls were similar to the ones outside but this time colored in a romantic dusty rose. The room was pretty sparse, bare save for the essentials of a bed, a dresser, and a small sitting area. A lantern was resting on the table, with a couple of spare candles and a matchbook beside it. I rocked Gus as I checked the room for anything that might hurt him. I'd been worried by the chilly nature of the rest of the staff and Narcissa's temperament that the quarters might be neglected. But my fears were put to rest by how clean, and tidy everything was. However, I frowned at the lack of a bassinet for my son. "This is perfect, thank you." "You're welcome," Nicolette placed my suitcase in the corner, dusting off her apron as she moved out of the way so I could settle in. "Your room is four doors down from mine. My door is the one with the wreath of honeysuckle on it, not the one with the marigold pinned to it. That's Marisa, and she does not like to be bothered during her downtime. The woman's lavatory is the last door at the end of the hall. Men's quarters are on the opposite end of the castle, but I doubt you'll need to go there any time soon. Unless it's to report to Mr. Galanis, the Head of Household Affairs." "Right." "Now, Lady Narcissa did tell me to tell you that it is your job to do her hair and makeup for every event taking place before the wedding and obviously for the big day itself. Which is," Nicolette nervously tucked a loose curly behind her ear. "A lot." Oh, well, that was news… "How much is a lot?" Gus let out a sleepy sigh, shoving his whole fist in his mouth as my anxiety came back. "Four events? Five?" "I lost count after ten, ma'am," Nicolette sheepishly said, eyes fixed on the floor. "But I'm sure it's no more than twenty." Close to twenty? I realize that Narcissa was marrying the Prince of the Obsidian Moon and that all weddings had a great deal of pomp and circumstance, but wasn't that a bit excessive? Besides, how was I going to take care of August and do all those events? Nicolette was either very empathetic, or I was being painfully transparent with my emotions again, going right to the matter of my concerns: "Oh, you needed to worry about…my apologies, I don't think I asked for your son's name." I couldn't help but giggle at her flush, the nervous tic of her lacing her fingers together. It was as refreshing as it was endearing. "His name is August; after the month he was born. Not clever, I know, but there was something that just felt right calling him that." I remembered when the nurse showed me him, still covered in a bit of caul, bawling his eyes out. I'd been so tired, but at that moment, I knew all that pain had been worth it. I kissed the dark down of his hair, a maternal peace coming over me when he snuggled to my breast. "My little prince, sweet Gus." "He's very lucky to have you, ma'am," Nicolette said quietly. She had the most heartbreaking expression on her face, torn between melancholy and nostalgia. Before I could even think to ask, her face cleared, and she stood up a little straighter, a wobbling grin on her face. "I've known plenty of children who were not nearly as lucky to have been kept by a parent should they become packless. Some people think the separation gives the child a better life, but I wonder…" Her eyes went distant again before she remembered herself, stammering: "Not that it's my place to think such things as a maid." "Nicolette, please don't. You don't have to censor yourself for my benefit. I…I know what people say." "Then you should know I'm not one of them," we both were taken aback by the forcefulness of her words. Meek, Nicolette may be, but a doormat she wasn't. "Sorry, sorry! I just get passionate about things like that, is all…" "No problem," we stood in silence as Nicolette struggled with what to say, awkwardness leeching in. "Well, er, as I mentioned, you needn't worry about Gus' care. I know several of the older maids would love to watch over your son. Maud, I know, would be smitten with him as there hasn't been a baby in the castle for quite some time. She was—is—the official nanny of the Obsidian Moon pack. So know that your son is in capable hands. Oh, that reminds me! Let me give you a schedule for Lady Narcissa; I know I have it somewhere?" She produced a paper out of her apron, and we went over the schedule while Nicolette gave me a grand tour of the castle. Once out of the bustle of the foyer, the staff was much warmer. We went by the kitchen to find Maud, who did certainly take a liking to Gus right away. And then some. Turns out, my son can turn traitor with the promise of pureed blueberries. I'd never seen Gus so willing to leave my arms, not even for Henrietta! I stuck my tongue out at him, making the scullery girls and cooking staff laugh. Maud told me she'd bring him back after I settled in more and to enjoy the rest of my tour. I faltered for a moment, unsure if it was alright, I knew he could be a handful when he wanted to be, especially with strangers. But Maud waved my concerns away, braying with pleased cackles when Gus honked her nose. "Strong grip," Maud cheered as Nicolette continued the tour but not before pilfering a few tarts for us to snack on. "I think that's just about everything I know," We had made our way into the courtyard, sitting on a bench shaded by popular trees. Nicolette bit into her tart, sauce dripping down her chin as she struggled to lick it all up. "Oh, gosh, do you have a—?" "Already have you covered," I handed her a handkerchief. "The perks of being a mother." "So I see," Nicolette hummed in shy approval. "Right, so I believe the next big event is Narcissa's birthday on Sunday the sixteenth. So you get about three days on your own to explore and get acclimated to life here at the castle." "Oh, what a coincidence," I said. "My birthday is in another ten days, the twenty-sixth. I'll be twenty-one this year." "Oh, so your Calling is this year then. That's…have you ever fully shifted before?" I shook my head: "Just little things, my eyes. Sometimes my nails." "Well, the Calling will always force a full shift on you. Regardless of the phase of the moon, mind you. It's completely natural, though. I think the scariest part was waiting for the shift. Fair warning, though…" I didn't like the way she phrased that: "Yes?" "We're not allowed to shift in the castle here. The servants, that is. I don't think the rules apply quite the same for His Majesty and his son, but you needn't worry about them doing something so gauche as to Alpha posture. So, when your birthday comes, we'll just bring you back here to help you with your first time. Thank you for letting me know, by the way. Can't imagine how awful this would have been on the day of." "I can only imagine, and thank you for being so welcoming." She looked down again, pleased: "It's nothing, really." "Are you Ms. Ayda?" A gentleman with a great gray mustache walked through the arch that led to the courtyard. His bald head glistened in the sun, damp with perspiration. He had clearly run from wherever he'd been. "Are you?" "I am," Nicolette and I rose from our seats, giving the older butler our full attention. "And you are?" "Otto Galanis," he puffed out his chest, standing at parade rest. "Head of Household Affairs for Castle Lykaia for over forty years! Also, our Lady Narcissa has requested that you come to her chamber immediately. Shall you please accompany me this way?" "I'll see you later," Nicolette waved and then curtsied when Mr. Galanis' glared at her. "Remember, the door with the honeysuckle wreath." "And not the marigold," I waved her bye with a grin. "Yes, I remember. I'll see you soon." And then it was off to see Narcissa. Opulent would be one word to describe the bedroom of one Narcissa Onasis with its en suite spa, rose gold décor, and crystal chandeliers. It certainly fit her larger-than-life personality. "Do you see this puffiness?" Narcissa poked at the skin underneath her eyes. She was wearing a white robe with a long train resembling a swan's tail feathers. "And Goddess, these wrinkles!" "I can do a Corinthian facial." The blonde looked up at me from her vanity, brow slightly puckered in confusion. I waved my beautician kit at her. "It's a treatment and massage rolled into one. First, I'll message you with a jade gua sha. It helps to stimulate circulation, which in turn will remove that puffiness. Then I'll coat your face in chamomile, edelweiss, and jojoba-infused mask to help start collagen production flowing again, which will plump up and hydrate your skin, making you feel youthful again." Narcissa purred as I leaned her back in her chair, starting with a warm-up message with her scalp to get her to relax and coax some knots out before I pinned it all up. "Will you do my hair after?" Narcissa moaned, low and vaguely sexual, rolling bonelessly in my grip. I paused, getting the brush out of my bag, face on fire. "Pretty please?" "S-s-sure?" I was so flustered with her continued moaning, I didn't even notice the door opening and a man coming through. "Narcissa? What on Earth—Oh." I couldn't tell if he was relieved, disappointed, or maybe a combination of the two. Just that he was one of the most handsome men I'd ever seen. He had a body like a soldier but was dressed like a scholar. Crisp white shirt behind a smart crimson waistcoat with gold detailing encircled a wide chest and broad shoulders. His trousers were black, thin pinstripes of gold running down the length of his long legs. He wore an ascot, pinned down by a thumb-sized brooch of obsidian. His hair was combed back, a last-ditch effort to make russet curls behave themselves. The shadow of a beard cutting a clean squared jawline. But what was most striking were his amber eyes that almost seemed to glow in the olive of his complexion. Something stirred in my chest, a familiar ache that had been haunting me since that night last year… He stared at me as if in a trance, then shook his head, nostrils flaring. When he recovered his composure, the man only had eyes for Narcissa. "Narcissa, dearest." He said it like a curse. His eyes glanced over at me, and I saw him wince. He'd forgotten he had an audience. "Precious flower, why did the groundskeeper Damascus tell me you'd purchased twelve pink dyed ostriches and put them in our stable?" Narcissa didn't even bother to look at him, spinning a finger in the air to have me keep working. I wanted nothing more to leave, to avoid this spat between…whatever they were. I didn't think they could be related, but you could never be too sure these days. They did seem familiar, at least. "You've got a lot of nerve barging in here while I'm receiving care," she closed her eyes as I worked the bit of jade over her face. She moaned again, but this time I think it was more to antagonize him than for genuine pleasure. She continued. "Why, Alex would never have barged in like that. He also wouldn't have cared what I bought. In fact, he would have just given me everything that I wanted and asked if I wanted more. Is this what I should expect from you? Less? Is this what is expected of the spare?" What Narcissa said hurt him deeply. Pain, bleeding like a wound on a battlefield, etched itself into every nook and corner of his face. He crumpled in on himself, grimacing like she'd struck a physical blow before he turned on his heel and left. As he closed the door, he looked over at Narcissa, a burning hatred there that left my bones chilled through. And when he looked at me— All I saw was regret. "Prince Sebastian, my soon-to-be husband. Utterly useless." Narcissa said to her reflection and the only person she seemed to care for.