THE doors silently close behind me, pushed by two sharply-dressed servants, their gleaming boots soundless on the marble floor. A grand entrance-hall is before me, a massive staircase descending from what must be the second storey. There are no richly-clad nobility to be seen, but I am not alone. The hall is filled with servants, two at every door, one at each outlet of the grand staircase, clothed so carefully and strappingly that they appear to vanish into the polished floor and ornamented walls, they themselves works of art.

A single servant appears by my shoulder, so suddenly and so silently that I’m taken by surprise. I turn to regard him, realising his uniform is different, and more distinguished. He bows, and begins to speak in a crisp, carefully-articulated voice – as finely tailored as the clothes he wears.

“You are expected in the gallery. Please, follow me.”

I fall into step behind him, gazing awkwardly around as I follow him up the staircase. The steps lead around in a wide semi-circle, halting at the intersection of a wide corridor. Opposite, another set of doors is before us, opened so swiftly we don’t need to check our gait. The servant halts a few steps inside, and gestures to the room.

Inside, another woman in red awaits me, sprawled elegantly on a large sofa. Her clothing is unnecessarily extravagant, her skirt so full I find myself wondering how she doesn’t get lost in the fabric. She’s significantly older than me, just beyond the middle of her life. Like Clancy, she’s blonde, yet her hair is longer and slightly darker – part of her hair tied back in a complicated and delicate braid, the rest styled to wave about the place in a glamorous way. She turns to gaze at me with blue, jewel-like eyes. She wears an amiable expression, yet I can’t help but dare to think her beauty is forced and overdone.

"Greetings. Take a seat, we have much to discuss." Her voice is high and somewhat nasal, and it is only with much reluctance that I approach her. The servant silently turns and leaves the room, the doors sliding closed with a click. I cautiously settle on a seat, pull out my cards, and as the woman chatters I take a quick glance of the spacious room around me. It’s an exceptionally long space, wide windows adorning the outside wall, looking out into the dusk beyond. A lake glitters nearby, the landscape dotted with the lights of streetlamps and residencies. The opposite wall is filled with paintings of all kinds, some depicting the Palace and the lake, some showing richly-clad nobles in heroic poses, and others detailing battle-scenes filled with strange, blue colours. The room is lit with the golden glow of small white candles, protruding from the wall in elegant holders.

The woman clears her throat, bringing me back to attention. Her face is full of disapproval.

“Do enlighten me. I was inquiring as to your family name. It is improper to address you by any other means until we are more intimately acquainted.”

“Oh, sorry.” I falter, and find myself beginning to frown. “I don’t have one.”

“Well, that is a slight inconvenience. We must endure such uncouthness for the time being. You shall address me as Queen Arabella. I am the patron to the Diamonds region, which includes the town of Oakmere, where you have travelled from.”

I shift uncomfortably in my seat, eyes widening. “You’re… you’re a Queen? I wasn’t aware we had a… Queen.”

“So I can see. As of today, you will find yourself aware of not only this, but also that I am one of the most powerful people in the kingdom.” She clicks her fingers, and a servant glides into the room, bearing a rich platter of fruit. As they pass by, I reach up and pluck a grape from the platter. I move to eat it, but Arabella gives me a potent glare and I falter. The servant deposits the platter on a small table before Arabella, and departs. I roll the grape between my fingers, glancing nervously at the other fruit.

“Uh… is there some mistake? I’m here for the horses.”

Arabella shifts, giving me a pointed glance. “I am aware. Do not flatter yourself, Lacey. There has been no mistake.” She reaches forward, and swipes a bunch of grapes from the platter. Her dress, like Clancy’s, exposes just enough of her back to exhibit the glowing imprint of a card – the Queen of Diamonds. I try not to stare.

“It’s Rane,” I mutter.

Her eyes flash. “Do you think I care for such insignificant things?” She sneers, pausing to chew on a grape. “Let me cut to the chase. You may be a mere horsewoman, but I have to ensure the validity of every individual who can lay claim to being even my most distant acquaintance.”

I blink, bewildered. “You think I’m a threat?”

“I will ask the questions.” Another grape crunches between her teeth, and she plays with the stem. “You do not speak like a labourer, yet you worked alongside labourers in Oakmere. Furthermore, you claim you are without a family name. Is there an explanation for this?”

I move all my attention to the grape between my fingers, which is soon accidentally squished. I wipe my fingers on my pants, and look back at her. “I’ve lived in Oakmere as long as I can remember.”

“But you have a coastal accent. The nearest port is Cantastel, and that is three times the distance to Oakmere.”

“I don’t think I catch your drift.”

“I am merely wondering if there is a question of legitimacy in your bloodline. Furthermore, I do not believe Oakmere is your place of birth or childhood.”

The seat suddenly feels very uncomfortable, and I shift nervously, picking up my pack of cards. “If I’m the illegitimate daughter of a Cantastel nobleman, I’m not aware of it. My family is my own business.”

“Dishonesty is treasonous when speaking to a Queen.”

“I’m being honest! I’m sure there are much more unusual circumstances that could explain my situation. Let’s not be narrow-minded.”

Arabella clears her throat and squints at me, finding condolence in another bunch of grapes. “Very well. But I will be keeping a close eye on you.” She clicks her fingers, and another servant enters the room, this time bearing a glass of wine. “You are here, Lacey, because we need a horseman to aid us. I have a group of associates taking a large political venture, and I need you to ensure that happens as quickly as possible by taking care of their steeds.”

“It’s Rane,” I remind her. “I’m here because Lacey didn’t want to come.”

She glares at me, picking out another grape. “I don’t care what your name is. All I care about is what you’re here to do. You are to prepare the horses and caravans for travel every morning, and do the reverse in the evening. The health and wellbeing of the horses is also under your responsibility. You will be travelling with some of the best horses in the country. We cannot afford replacements.”

“I see.” I mull it over, watching enviously as she slowly savours another bunch of grapes. “Where are we going?”

“My associates are headed east, over the hill country, then south towards Cassan, to meet with further acquaintances. The ultimate destination is Cantastel.”

“Cantastel?” I let out a low whistle. “How long will that take?”

“Just over a month."

My eyes widen. “You’re kidding.”

“You can always choose not to join us.” She smirks a little, carefully peeling off another bunch of grapes.

“I’m… I’m not changing my decision.”

“Very well then.” She clicks her fingers yet again. “You’ll be expected to be ready before dawn tomorrow, to aid the preparations.”

The small figure of Saron is escorted into the room, looking much the same since our journey on the caravan, a half-eaten apple in one hand. Ignoring my confused stares, she turns to regard him, her nose slightly upturned as if enduring a bad smell.

"There you are," she says, somewhat exasperatedly. "Relay this to the Diamond Horsemaster – ‘Your stable hand is satisfactory. See to southern affairs.’ Thank-you." Saron nods, and wanders out of the room. Arabella turns away with a disgusted sigh, and I scowl as her eyes meet mine. She gestures towards the door.

“If you would please. Show yourself out.”

I awkwardly get to my feet, and hurry out of the room. Arabella glares behind me, a fresh bunch of grapes in her hand.

Next Chapter: Chapter 4