26 House of Mourning (1/2)

The infirmary door opened just as Hilde was rising from the bed. In went a sandy-haired woman of about twenty-five. She was carrying a food-laden tray, and over her shoulder hung a sky blue nightgown that Hilde recognized to be hers. Seeing Hilde, this woman's thin and long face split into a wide grin.

”Welcome back, Princess!” exclaimed Nadia, Hilde's only attendant. Belatedly, she remembered to curtsey. The cutlery on the tray clinked and the nightgown slid to the floor.

”I asked for you to be here half an hour ago,” Lady Saskia said with a resigned smile. She walked over and picked up the fallen garment herself.

”I only just heard, though, Lady, and I came as quickly as I could – WOW, Princess Hilde, you look all right! I'm so happy you're alive!”

”Thank you, Nadia,” Hilde replied wryly, unsure of what to feel about the exuberance. ”But I was just told I shouldn't take my survival for granted yet.”

Nadia's face fell. ”Oh…” she said. ”Then I could still be out of a job…”

While Hilde forced her expression to remain neutral, Lady Saskia had no trouble choking on her laughter. ”That would indeed be tragic,” she said.

Soon after, Hilde stepped out of her mourning clothes so it could be ironed out of its sleep-induced creases. Again, she didn't think anyone would notice or mind, but in this matter, Lady Saskia and Lady Ilse were cut from the same cloth. They'd sent Nadia out again for this task – not for her to do it herself, as she'd blithely admitted she was bad at it, but to find another attendant who could.

Dressed only in her nightgown, Hilde and Lady Saskia shared a simple but filling meal that was meant to be fuel for the hours ahead. They finished just as Nadia – who still looked concerned about her uncertain future – returned.

Hilde wished she could be as open about the heartaches and fears plaguing her own mind, but her present reality was demanding that she once again set those aside. Back in her mourning clothes, her hair fixed by Lady Saskia, she felt she was as ready as she could ever be for what's to come in this world, that day and beyond.

”Princess,” said the Lady suddenly while Nadia went ahead to open the door for them. ”Would you like to see him first?” Hilde halted walking mid-step but didn't turn to her questioner. ”In private?”

Neither needed to clarify who she meant by ”him.” They'd both lost count of how many times that person had brought the Princess to the Physician for injuries he'd directly or indirectly inflicted himself.

Hilde swallowed past her constricted throat. ”You said yourself, Lady,” she finally replied. ”I should start getting used to how things are now.”

Lady Saskia stepped in front of her patient, forcing Hilde to meet her eyes. ”Denial won't help with that,” she said point-blank. ”I witnessed what happened when you saw his brother – I think almost everyone did.”

Being taller, Hilde averted the Lady's gaze by looking ahead. Eventually, however, after an infinite moment where she rallied her courage, she nodded. ”I have time?”

”I can make time for you. Go.”

She threw the older woman a grateful look before striding out of the room, as swiftly as her current strength would allow.

”Look after her,” she heard the Physician say before she was out of earshot. ”Properly please, Nadia. For once.”

***

The fallen would have arrived at Oste some time in the previous night. It was a speed that, given the number of miles that had to be crossed, could only have been accomplished through an unceasing relay of drivers, horses, and escorts.

Whether the exact hour had been at dusk, or at midnight, or at the small hours before dawn, their arrival would have been greeted by everyone already present in the palace, just as if the people who'd come were all still living.

The Prince and his soldiers would have then been brought to the House of Contemplation, the closest thing that the Royal Palace had to a sacred place. There, the closest kin present would have sat vigil with their dead.

For Hilde's brother, those would have been the Queen and her young son. Given Nelke's relative nearness to the capital, however, Lady Ilse and Gisela should have been there too, as should Hilde.

She knew, though, that even if she'd stayed in Oste days ago and never got into an accident – by chance, forcing her aunt and cousin to wait with her until she could travel – it would have been with Lothar that she sat. The entire world's judgment and censure would not have stopped her, and she would have fought anyone who tried to cite rules or forcibly make her do what was ”expected.”

Hilde followed a passageway leading to one of the royal residence's side entrances, interrupting people in their tasks as they were all required to pause and acknowledge her presence. As she willed herself into invisibility out of habit, it numbly occurred to her: it was just as well that ”she” left that day. If she hadn't, she'd have inadvertently dishonored the dead a dozen times over before they were laid to rest.