28.

As soon as I’m back in my room, I strip out of my dress and pull on a white-cotton nightgown that only falls to my knees.

Daphne picks up the outfit from the floor. “Bad time ta’night?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I retort, quickly feeling sorry for my crass remark. I add, “Yeah. Bad time.”

“It’ll get better, miss. Jus’ ya wait.”

I murmur, “I don’t think it will.”

After that, I don’t hear Daphne running around the room. I have no idea if she left, or even if she’s allowed to leave. And I don’t feel like sitting up to look. But when I know for sure that she’s disappeared and out of hearing range, I can’t stop the tears from collecting on my pillow.

In my dreams, I’m carried off to a land covered in green plants, where the sun beams through the leafy canopies overhead. In the background, children laugh and play, dodging from behind brown trunks. Mama and Mattie motion for me to join them at the pool of clear water in the center of the panorama.

It’s like the world was never marred.

The next morning, Daphne has this fearful look weaved throughout her features. I can’t describe it other than: something’s wrong. The more I watch her run around the room, the more I realize there’s a problem.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

She jumps, placing a hand over her heart. “Don’ scare me like that, miss.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

The wrinkles around her eyebrows crease into deep gullies of worry. Or is it concern? Something entirely different?

I try to stay calm. “So, what’s on the schedule today?”

“Not sure, miss.” She continues dusting random items around the room. Obviously it’s to keep busy.

“Does this mean I can lie in bed all day?” I tease.

Daphne freezes, lowering her eyes. Refusing to look at me. “I think ya need to speak to His Majesty.”

Oh, God. I know what it’s about—my sudden courage last night. Nobody speaks to a king like I did. I’m sure I ruined everything. What will the people of Legora say when I return empty-handed?

Then I remember that I was supposed to go on a tour with him. I had totally left dinner, forgetting during my anger.

“I think I might know what this is about,” I say. “Hopefully I can fix it.”

Daphne helps me get cleaned up with a hot bath before lunch. We don’t have nice amenities in Legora. I remember the first night we moved in, and Mama made sure Mattie and me were clean. The water was frigid, but we didn’t care; it washed away the sand that had accumulated during the two weeks prior. Plus, the cool sensation temporarily comforted our burns.

While we wait for the curling iron to heat, Daphne and I lounge on the balcony. I can see almost the entire grounds from this view. The high hedges are down below, and they form no pattern at all. Just a maze.

“How long have you worked here?” I ask.

Daphne squirms in her chair uncomfortably. “Since mah family was killed, miss. I was put ta work at fourteen.”

“Killed? Oh, how awful. I’m so sorry.” I stare off, imagining what it’d be like if I lost Mama and Mattie. I can’t bear that thought.

“It was the war, miss. Got most of our families.”

“I wasn’t aware there had been a war since the beginning of the Age of Desolation.”

“Aye. That’s when it was.”

“Three years ago? That means you’re near my age!” I don’t know whether I should be happy or not, under the circumstances. I quickly add, “Not that I thought you were old or anything. I just wasn’t sure of your age.”

“’S okay.” She smiles kindly.

I calm down when I realize she’s not thrilled as me. “Did you live far from here?”

“Halgan.”

“That’s the encampment they were about to send our people to before I left Legora. We couldn’t house anymore travelers. That’s why I’m here. But, of course, you knew that.”

“Didn’t know they were sendin’ people to Halgan.”

I scoot forward in my chair. “What’s it like?”

“No better than Legora. People were starvin’ there, too. An’ that was before the clouds appeared.”

I remember seeing those inflated mushrooms from a distance when I was younger. They were intimidating, even from my view. All I thought about was what they meant and if they were coming toward us. Mama had said they were just for show, but I now know that with them went the last of our humanity.

“We had better get your hair fixed, miss. Can’t keep the King waitin’.”

After Daphne puts the finishing touches on my hair and face, I’m ushered to King Zarek’s chambers. I’ve devised a plan, though. I’ll just tell him I wasn’t feeling well after dinner and quickly fell asleep. It is the truth, after all.

The door jars behind me and I flinch.

“I’m sure you know what this is about,” King Zarek begins. Though he doesn’t get up from his chair by the fireplace, I still bow my head.

“I have an idea, Majesty.”

The pipe extending from his lips crackles each time he takes a new puff. “Then I’ll be frank with you—I’m going to send you home. Valyad is no place for a person of your…your…”

“Status?” I interject.

“Status, yes. Thank you. These matters are for persons of a more political influence, such as your leader.” He sighs rather loudly, blowing smoke out of his mouth. “As I’ve told you, I grow tired of having to feed and house commoners, and then send them on their way. I should keep a sign posted on the gates stating no beggars are allowed.” He lightly chuckles at this, but I don’t.

“So you’re sending me home without supplies?” It’s not really a question. I mean, he pretty much just gave me the answer; I just don’t want to believe it.

“Tell your leader upon your return that I wouldn’t budge, and that you did your best to persuade me otherwise. Tell him that I said if he wants the provisions so badly, he can come beg for himself.”

With those last words, he waves me out.

“Majesty, I beg you now. Don’t do this. Legora needs you.”

But it’s no use. Two footmen standing outside the doors grab my arms and lead me back to my room, so I can gather my belongings.

Daphne’s not there anymore. Maybe they’ve assigned her elsewhere.   

As soon as I’ve changed into the clothes I arrived in, the footmen lead us out the same manner we came only a few days ago. We saddle up, riding through the trees until they disappear and the sand takes their place. Soon the corroded station comes into view, the train impatiently waiting for me to accompany it.

I find the identical seat I sat in on the way to Valyad. The window is still cracked and a breeze pours through, occasionally lifting my hair.

All I can think about is what a failure I am. Not only am I concerned about what the town will say, but what Mama will think about all of this. Will she believe me when I say I tried? Will anybody?