3.The Baroness of Chambery

I felt as though I were being tugged back into the world by a hundred tiny hooks. Hands were pushing at my shoulders, and voices—thin and distant at first—began to drill into my consciousness.

"Your Highness, please... you must wake up."

The shoving continued. I groaned, my body feeling as heavy as lead as I shifted from my side to lie flat on my back. My eyes fluttered open to the sight of the high, vaulted ceiling and the soft morning light filtering through the heavy velvet drapes.

"It is already morning, Your Highness," a voice insisted. "Please, you must get up from the bed."

"Five minutes... just five more," I mumbled, pulling the silk sheets over my head. My mind was still half-submerged in the vision of the Goddess and the horrifying truths of the kingdom. I wasn't ready to face the world yet.

"YOUR HIGHNESS!"

I bolted upright, my heart hammering against my ribs. I looked around to find three maids standing at the foot of my bed like a small, disciplined army. One stood to my right, another to my left, and a third stood directly in front of me, holding a magnificent blue gown of silk and lace. Before I could protest, the maid on my left practically hauled me from the mattress and ushered me toward the dressing room.

The next half-hour was a whirlwind of coordinated activity. One maid began to vigorously brush my teeth with a silver-handled brush, while another trimmed and oiled my hair, working with a speed that suggested they were running behind schedule. Then came the moment I dreaded.

One of the maids produced a corset—a stiff, skeletal object of bone and lace that looked more like an instrument of torture than a garment. In my previous life, I had read about such things, but experiencing it was a different matter entirely. As they wrapped it around my torso, I felt the air leave my lungs.

"Stop... wait, it doesn't fit! Stop!" I cried out, a genuine scream of agony escaping me as they began to pull the laces.

"Just hold your breath a little longer, my lady," one of them whispered. "It will be over in a moment."

The pain was exquisite, as if my very ribs were being rearranged to suit a more "princely" silhouette. I felt as though I might snap in two. Finally, the laces were tied, and the pressure settled into a dull, constant ache. I could breathe, but only in shallow, ladylike sips. Relief washed over me as the "cursed object" was finally secured.

As they draped the heavy blue gown over me and began applying a light dusting of powder to my face, one of the maids began to recite the day's itinerary.

"His Majesty the King requests an audience with you in the throne room, Your Highness. Her Majesty the Queen and your Royal Brothers are already in attendance."

"An audience with my father? So early?" I asked, trying to steady my voice.

"Yes, Your Highness. The summons was quite specific."

I looked at the three women in the mirror. "Apologise for my rudeness, but... may I know your names?"

All three stopped their work, looking at me with profound surprise. It was clear the previous Caroline had never bothered with such pleasantries.

"Ah, yes, Your Highness," the eldest said, bowing her head. "I am Bellamy Berger, Maid of Aisfield." She was the woman from last night—kind-faced, in her late forties, with sensible brown hair.

"My name is Aalis Geoffroi, of Chambery," said the second. She looked to be roughly my age, with striking red curls and bright orange eyes that darted nervously.

"And I am Ame Geoffroi, also of Chambery!" the youngest chirped. She couldn't have been more than thirteen, her face dotted with freckles and her energy seemingly boundless.

I paused, my civil-servant brain catching a detail. "Why is it that Miss Ame does not have a title of 'Maid,' yet Miss Aalis does? You are of the same family, are you not?"

Bellamy stepped forward to explain. "Your Highness, the title of 'Maid of the Estate' is inherited only by the eldest daughter of a lairdship. The younger daughters, while still of noble service, are addressed without the formal title of their home."

I looked at the two sisters. They were exactly what I needed—local connections. "Do I have a set of personal maids?"

"At present, Your Highness does not," Bellamy replied.

"Then I have made my mind up," I said, offering a small, firm smile. "Aalis and Ame, you shall both become my personal maids from this day forward."

The two girls gasped, their eyes widening. Bellamy, however, looked stricken. "Your Highness, I fear you cannot do that. The appointment of personal staff is a prerogative of Her Majesty the Queen. She will have already selected candidates she deems suitable."

I felt a flash of irritation. I was the one who had to live with them. "No. I shall appoint them myself."

Bellamy took a deep, weary breath. "I shall attempt to speak with Her Majesty on the matter, though I pray she is in a forgiving mood."

As Bellamy left the room to prepare the way, I saw Aalis and Ame beaming with excitement behind her back. I gestured for them to come closer to the vanity table.

"Can you two handle the duty?" I asked, my voice softening. "It won't be easy. I suspect I am not the easiest princess to serve."

"It would be the greatest honour of our lives, my lady!" Aalis replied, though she still looked frightened.

"Good. Then from now on, I shall call you Aalis and Ame. And you..." I looked them in the eye. "You shall call me Caroline."

Aalis looked as though she might faint. "But my lady... we are servants. It is quite inappropriate to use your given name. We would be whipped if the Queen heard us."

"Caroline," Ame whispered suddenly, testing the word.

"Ame! Hush!" Aalis hissed.

I couldn't help but giggle. The sound was bright and out of place in the stiff, formal room. "Good girl, Ame. Yes, just Caroline. We are going to be 'buddies,' after all."

"Buddies?" Aalis repeated, looking entirely lost.

"It means we are a team," I said, standing up. "Now, enough of this. I have a throne room to attend, and a King to face."

I exited my chambers, the heavy silk of my skirts whispering against the stone floor. Aalis and Ame followed a respectful three paces behind. As we turned into the main hall, a tall, imposing figure blocked our path. It was the Queen.

She stood like a statue of ice, her eyes raking over me before settling on the two girls behind me.

"Caroline," she said, her voice like a whip. "Who are these people?"

"These are my personal maids, Mother. Aalis and Ame."

"WHAT!" She didn't just speak; she barked. "Personal maids? I have already selected a retinue of highly trained servants from the capital for you. Why have you chosen these... provincials? And why, pray tell, are you addressing them by their Christian names?"

"I chose them because they are of my own age," I replied, keeping my spine straight despite the pinching of the corset. "I wish for companions, not just servants. If I am to be a Princess of this realm, I should like to be surrounded by people I can actually talk to."

"NONSENSE!" The Queen's face flushed a deep, angry crimson. "You act entirely at your own will, with no regard for protocol! Do you have any idea how this looks to the nobility?" She pressed a hand to her temple. "Ugh! Do as you wish, then. Just ensure you do not embarrass the family further."

"You have my gratitude, Mother," I said, dipping a shallow, perfectly executed curtsy.

We reached the massive oak doors of the throne room. The Queen ordered my maids to wait outside, and we entered as the guards threw the doors wide.

The room was vast, smelling of old incense and cold stone. My father sat upon the high throne, and beside him stood four men. They were my brothers, a line of blonde-haired, blue-eyed reflections of the King. From the Goddess's memories, the names clicked into place:

Connor (24): The eldest, tall and arrogant.

Archie (21): The second, who looked constantly bored.

Aldred (18): The third, possessing a sharp, unkind gaze.

Charles (16): The fourth, only a year older than myself, yet looking down his nose at me.

"Greeting, Father," I said, walking to the centre of the hall. "I apologise for keeping you waiting."

"It is quite alright, my dear daughter," the King replied, though his eyes were calculating.

"It seems our little sister has forgotten to apologise to her brothers as well," Connor drawled, a vicious little smirk on his lips.

I inclined my head. "I apologise to my dear brothers as well."

The King leaned forward. "Caroline, you are fifteen. It is time you learned the burden of governance. Your brothers all oversee their own lands. Connor is the Duke of Aisfield; Archie is the Marquess of Imyr; Aldred and Charles are both Counts of their own domains. It is time you held a fief of your own."

I felt a jolt of excitement. Power. "And which fief shall be mine, Father?"

"The Manor of Chambery. You shall be granted the title of Baroness."

I stiffened. The difference was insulting. "Father... the Manor? Even Charles, who is but a year older than I, was granted a County. Why am I to be a mere Baroness of a Manor?"

The room went silent. I saw Archie's eyes widen in shock, while Aldred and Charles looked visibly irritated. Connor just smiled, clearly enjoying my "humiliation."

The King laughed, a booming sound that lacked any real warmth. "You are sharp as lightning, Caroline. I give you Chambery not out of discrimination, but because you lack experience. If you wish for a greater title, you must prove your leadership there first."

"Very well," I said, my mind already spinning. Chambery was where my maids were from. It was a place of poverty, which meant it was a place where I could make a real difference. "I accept. But I have two favours to ask in return."

"Favours? It seems our sister wants to be spoiled," Connor mocked.

"Speak them," the King commanded.

"First, I wish for Aalis and Ame to be officially recognised as my personal maids and to accompany me to Chambery. They are from that land; they will be my eyes and ears."

The King looked at the Queen, who gave a sharp, reluctant nod. "Granted," the King said. "And the second?"

"I wish to appoint my own personal knight for my escort. Not one of the Royal Guard."

The King's brow furrowed. "A knight? Is there someone in the garrison who has caught your eye?"

"No," I said, thinking of the one person the Goddess's memories suggested I could actually trust. "He is not a knight yet. He is a squire. His name is Louis."