As she entered the palace, a new guide welcomed her. Because the woman was dressed so plainly—like a priestess from a temple—Sophia first thought she was a maid. But as they walked, the woman introduced herself as Michelle Piels, and Sophia realized she was also a lady-in-waiting like herself.
“Don’t tell me I’ll have to wear that terrible black dress too?”
Sophia frowned at the thought.
Now that she remembered, someone had mentioned before that the princess came to this palace saying she would live modestly for a year.
“Still, this is too much.”
Miss Piels didn’t look happy in that outfit either. She spoke in a voice like a flickering candle in the wind, “This way,” then stayed silent as she walked ahead.
Sophia looked around the palace as she followed Michelle. Everything was dark and plain. Although some parts showed the palace’s former grandeur, much of it was so old and worn that it felt more like seeing the remains of a fallen kingdom than a royal home.
She imagined what the princess and her attendants must be like. Based on what she’d seen, they probably didn’t even turn on proper lights, sitting together in black clothes, sewing by candlelight.
Sophia sighed and made a small sign of the cross, like when entering a temple.
“This way,”
Miss Piels said quietly, pointing to an arched passage covered by black fabric. A faint light shone from inside. Sophia nodded and stepped through.
It almost felt like a play. As if, once she pushed aside the curtain, she wouldn’t find a room, but a stage—and instead of a princess, actors would appear.
As she pulled the curtain aside, light flooded the space. After walking in darkness for so long, the brightness made her squint.
What stood out most were the colorful feathers and soft fabrics. A huge, fancy chandelier, glowing lights everywhere, a wide, low velvet sofa—and sitting there were the princess and noble ladies, dressed in beautiful gowns, lounging as if lying down.
Then something brushed past Sophia’s skirt. Startled, she flinched, and a black cat gracefully meowed and twisted its body as it passed.
Everyone turned to look at her—except one person who had fallen asleep with a book over their face.
The others had been talking quietly together, their eyes and lips full of friendliness and joy. They seemed to be whispering to avoid waking the princess. But thanks to Sophia startling the cat, its cry echoed through the room, and Sophia felt a bit guilty.
“Oui vira eb si ble? (Was she supposed to come today?)”
“Bitum. (I don’t know.)”
“Que était-ci, ténol le chantou. (The Empress’s maid came by yesterday.)”
They whispered in the language of the Kingdom of Duhamel, keeping some distance from Sophia. Since the Empress was from Duhamel, it made sense the princess and her attendants used that language often.
Sophia briefly wondered if she should pretend not to understand. Most people in the empire didn’t speak Duhamel well, but Sophia had lived there for two years with her mother as a child.
Still, it would seem arrogant to suddenly introduce herself fluently, so she held back, lowered her knees slightly, and spoke in the imperial language.
“I’m Sophia Hilden. It’s an honor to meet you all.”
“Abelbuté. (Be quiet.) The princess doesn’t like noise. Especially not during her nap time.”
The girl with ruby-red eyes said, raising a finger to her lips. Her dress was made of layers of thin, sheer blue fabric like insect wings. Sophia remembered hearing about her in society. She must be Angelina Klopstock, the Empress’s niece and second daughter of a high noble family in Duhamel.
“Miss Klopstock,”
Sophia bowed again. Angelina raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised that Sophia knew who she was. Her mood seemed to improve, and she returned the greeting with grace.
“Miss Hilden.”
Sophia then greeted the other two maids.
“Miss Travers, Miss Olson. I’m happy to meet you. Was my voice too loud just now? I’m sorry. I’m used to dancing at the palace—always surrounded by crowds. I’ve gotten into the habit of speaking loudly. Please help me become more graceful from now on.”
Her humble tone made them smile kindly. Humility—so long as it’s not overdone—was always a good way to gain favor.
But they gently corrected her with slightly awkward expressions.
“Oui sévourpé… (Excuse us), but it’s better not to talk about dancing in front of the princess.”
“…Pardon?”
Sophia had barely heard them, so she asked again.
At that moment, the princess—whom they thought was asleep—suddenly threw aside the book covering her face and sat up straight.
“Dango! (Dance!)”
She twirled toward Sophia like a dancer and grabbed both of her hands. Spinning joyfully like a child on the carpet, she shouted again,
“Inqué! (Rhythm!)”
The maids sighed but began clapping as if they were used to this. Pulled along, Sophia spun with her, catching glimpses of the princess’s wide smile and beautiful green eyes like fresh leaves. Honestly, she wasn’t a great dancer, but her long limbs and graceful waist made her look good anyway.
In the middle of her wild spinning, the princess stepped on the fringe of a cushion and fell onto a large sofa. She burst out laughing, gasping for breath. Her sparkling green eyes looked truly lovely.
“You’re a great dancer, Miss Hilden.”
Sophia almost panicked, thinking she’d caused the fall, but seeing the princess smiling happily between the folds of her big dress, she felt a bit relieved.
Thankfully, the princess seemed to like her. Getting up again with energy, she hugged Sophia and picked up the book she’d dropped.
“As you might guess, I’m obsessed with dancing right now. I have to be. Once I enter society, I’ll be dancing until my feet bleed. Tell me, Sophia—can I call you that? Yes? Then tell me—what’s the most dances you’ve had in one night?”
Sophia replied shyly.
“About thirty. That night was so hectic, I couldn’t remember anyone’s names. I just kept dancing and pretending I knew who they were.”
“My goodness. Didn’t anyone notice?”
The princess asked playfully, eyes twinkling. Sophia, comforted by the friendly tone, answered,
“Of course someone noticed.”
“Oh no—what happened then?”
“The gentleman kindly forgave me. He even told me I should’ve just asked his name again. He said pretending to know only makes things worse.”
“He gave you advice? That’s not very forgiving.”
“He said it very kindly, so I didn’t think of it that way. But it made me realize my mistake. Since then, I always try to remember my dance partner’s name.”
Sophia worried her answer might sound boastful, but the princess seemed genuinely interested. She held Sophia’s hand and led her to where she had been lying, asking to hear more.
There were plenty of places to sit, so Sophia wondered why they had to move—but the princess was so friendly and warm that it didn’t feel awkward at all.
“Start from the beginning. Were you nervous? About your debut, I mean. You see, all my maids here will be debuting with me. Angelina and Bienvendina already had their debut in Duhamel, but they’ll do it again for me here in the empire. Eve is from the empire, but she’s lived abroad and doesn’t know much about society here. And Michelle—oh! Michelle, what are you doing? Come in already!”
At her shout, Michelle Piels—the same girl who had guided Sophia earlier in her black dress—entered. Sophia was surprised to realize she had still been outside and looked at her.
Michelle quietly came in and sat down. She pulled out a poetry book and began to read.
The princess tugged Sophia’s hand again and pulled her attention back. Soon, Sophia was talking about her past in high society, forgetting all about Michelle Piels.
Because, after all, the princess liking her was a very good sign.
