Roses and the Rendezvous (2)

After a few more minutes of chatter to stall time, I dashed down the hallway to my room, careful not to work up too much of a sweat so that I could be at least somewhat presentable. I checked my wardrobe to see if Leo left my attire for the night there, but after thumbing through various fabrics and furs, I didn't detect a single new piece of clothing.

That was when I turned around to my bed. My eyes landed on a large onyx bag laid neatly across my white sheets, ruining their temporary peace. I wanted to examine its contents, but I realized it was necessary to bathe myself. I knew I reeked of outside plants, perspiration, and perhaps animal dung after my travels.

*That's one thing Leo forgot to fix.*

I grabbed a black silk robe hanging from a dresser and sauntered outside through the back door. I carefully stepped with my bare, uncalloused feet as I plodded down a few old wooden boards with many splinters dangling from them like spikes on a cactus.

In the yard beside the small spring, I stripped myself and tossed my previous clothes onto a flat rock carved for that purpose. Taking the robe and tying it gently around my waist, one sleeve fell off my shoulder and exposed most of my chest. It didn't bother me much, for this was an instance in which I was glad we had very few neighbors to be voyeurs to such activity.

***

After bathing, I returned to my room, water droplets still dripping from the tips of my hair like morning dew despite having been dried off with a towel. With the fabric still adorning my head to keep the floor from becoming slippery, I opened the bag on my bed, unveiling an ornate black outfit.

"Woah," I said under my breath while dragging my hand over the garments.

The jacket was almost the length of a trench coat, extending to my knees when I picked it up to check the size. Golden strings woven together formed the trim, a cascading leaflike pattern swooping from the collar to the bottom hems. The same design adorned the cuffs, and it felt both rough and smooth when I trailed my fingers over them. The fabric itself was velvety and soft on my skin but just as glossy as precious metals from a distance. At the neck was a lacy white collar that would likely extend to my stomach. Underneath the jacket, I found a black undershirt, a simple and thin button-down, and below that was a pair of dress pants with the same golden pattern trailing down its sides.

It was far nicer than any other outfit I ever wore, so I dropped my robe to the floor and changed into it. The shirt and pants were my standard wardrobe, but the jacket felt heavenly against my arms as I slid it on, each fiber grazing against my skin gently. The collar tickled my neck a little, eliciting a shiver, but I adjusted it so that it wouldn't touch any part of me it didn't have to—a precarious balance of forward and backward motions.

When I finally had the outfit on, the hems were tapered in a manner that strangled me. Every article was fitted perfectly, which—in this case—meant the sleeves of the undershirt choked my biceps, and the pants gripped my thighs as tightly as a person hanging on the edge of a cliff. However, the jacket, while stiff, was loose and kept its distance from my legs as if it contained a metal ring.

I then returned to the living room, the grandfather clock beside the couch reading around five in the afternoon. That meant the ceremony would begin in about an hour.

*Time flies fast when you're having fun…?*

While in my room, the savory scent of my father's stew pervaded the house, masking the stale stench from when I arrived. When I reached the kitchen, it overwhelmed my senses, and my eyes were drawn to its source again.

My father sat beside the depleted pot, displaced from its original, ash-filled spot above the fire. He sipped on a mixture from a small cup, grinning warmly when he saw me.

"I see you're back from your bath." He presented a bowl of liquid and vegetables to me. "Would you perhaps like something to eat before you go? It's a long walk to the castle."

The idea was indeed very tempting. The dish looked like gustatory heaven right then, but for the sake of time, I had to be rational.

"No, but thank you. I'll be off now." I waved to him. "I want to arrive early before the crowds fill the lobby. Come see me later."

"I understand." He chuckled. "I remember being just like you when I was appointed, eager to take the position as soon as I could. I'll make sure to be there. Don't forget me when you're on the stage, okay?"

I laughed. "How could I? I-Is Mom coming?" Rubbing my arm, I hoped to not agitate him with the question.

Holding his bowl still, he began, "Well—"

As he spoke, there was a loud crash that made me spin around lopsidedly with a sock on one foot and a dress shoe on the other, looking like a cheetah with only half its spots. I almost tripped in a frenzy as part of my dad's meal landed on the floor.

*Was that a meteor or…?*

"Oh, soup!" a voice cheered. "How delightful, Mr. Heide! May I have some?"

My posture loosened to a slump, and the vaguely eager expression I had turned to one of dread.

*Oh, just Leo.*

"You." He pointed at me, and I raised an eyebrow at him. He swiped two fingers up, invisibly catching the corners of my lips so that they were forced up into an awkward grin much like the king's. "Smile more. You're getting appointed."