with the queen’s betrothal ceremonies, the palace at the vale has never been livelier. the gardeners comb the grounds every day to fashion new bouquets and arrangements to decorate the halls and guest chambers, and the kitchens are a perpetual storm of candied fruits and dainty cakes. below the east wing, the servant quarters are full of frenzy and chatter as well, teeming with maids and footmen from all over the kingdoms. some of the palace servants could not be more ecstatic to meet new friends and swap household tips, or -- to exchange pieces of gossip about their monarchs.
robin much prefers the quiet, however, choosing to spend her free hours holed up in the dragons’ den. reading a book with the candle-like snores of drualt and beryl akin to a little fireplace at her feet, she feels quite grateful to have a profession that allows such refuge from the castle mayhem. unfortunately, after a few hours of this indulgence, her rumbling stomach reminds her she cannot pass the entire day in the den. it’s about time for the dragons’ midday meal as well, so robin dusts off her breeches and heads back to the palace.
inside the halls, one of the dairymaids advises robin to head for the banquet hall first. the princesses had recently finished their welcome feast, and there was plenty of food for the servants to plunder before it would all be turned into pig slop. marigold described mountains of roasted swan, eel pie, sugar-spun dragons, marzipan ships and more, and though the taste of nobles doesn’t exactly align with robin’s . . . she’s curious to take a peek. queen alys never arranges such extravagant food for her own courtiers, finding it to be a waste of both time and produce, but robin imagines she must’ve gone all out to honor the princesses.
she expects to find a crowd of servants happily grazing at the tables when she arrives at the banquet hall, yet instead robin finds no one eating. the servants are occupying themselves with . . . seemingly pointless tasks instead, diligently smoothing out table cloths and dusting torches that had already been cleaned this morning. it’s only when robin notices a girl at the corner of the room that she realizes the reason for such a performance; one of the princesses had unexpectedly returned to the hall, leading the others to have to pretend to work rather than feast on the prized golden quail eggs.
robin might have taken this as her cue to simply forego the food and head straight to the kitchens, yet she couldn’t help but notice the princess’s expression. she seemed truly perturbed, shifting pitchers and candelabras and occasionally glimpsing beneath the tables. the servants had all given her a respectable breadth in the meanwhile, immersed in their own acts as dutiful workers as they picked up utensils ( only to place them back down ).
robin weaves past the feast to approach her, giving a deep bow in greeting. with a dragonkeeper’s uniform departing from any skirts, she thankfully never has to curtsy. ❝ your highness, ❞ robin gives a sympathetic yet concerned smile. ❝ are you all right? is there something i can help you with? ❞ up close, she realizes how beautiful the princess is too, the panicked flush in her face only bringing out the warm umber of her eyes. she looks like she belongs in an oil painting, the wisps of hair that had curled free from her braids only adding to her charm. ( @heartsechoed )
