Chapter 27 - Mister Sly Crow

After that night, Yvonne and I had little contact. 

We only saw each other during breakfast, in the gardens, or came across each other in the corridors. Other than that, both of us were busy in our own preparations for the ceremony.

Because she had arrived here so close to the Ceremony, Yvonne had a lot to catch up on. So we had no choice but to stay out of each other's ways.

That night after she had confessed that she wanted to ensure my survival, she'd told me all about her plan.

"What if we send in a decoy?" she had said, her eyes glittering with excitement. "What if you don't ever show up at the ceremony, and in your stead we send in a decoy? Someone who could easily pass off as you if not looked at too closely."

"B-but," I said, "won't the attendees notice the difference?"

"Oh, they would never," she laughed lightheartedly. "After all, they're always far more interested in themselves. Most of them suffer from a strong case of what we call, 'self-obsessiveness'."

Reynard's plan had been for me to escape. That was hard and all, considering that I'd be in a room full of people and will be the cynosure of all eyes. But what if...I don't show up at all? What if I don't have to be involved in the ceremony to begin with? Of course, Yvonne's plan was better than Reynard's risky one.

Then I asked her the big question. "But who'll be the decoy?"

Yvonne stopped laughing and her eyebrows came together as she thought of the possibilities. "You didn't expect me to propose a plan without any thought, did you?" she smiled. "We'll use a loyal acquaintance of mine."

"Who might that be?"

She held up two fingers. "You'll see in two days time." 

"Okay..." I answered, still uncertain. "Then what? What am I supposed to do in the meantime?"

"Escape," she smiled slyly. "Run away from the palace. Run away from all these beasts that wish to kill you. It's late, we'll discuss more later. Good night, now."

With that, our conversation had ended and Yvonne had gone back just as easily as she had come in. Like a ghost.

✿

"Now, Your Highness, snap out of it!" Sir Andre snapped his fingers in front of my face. "This is your last dance lesson before the ceremony. Pay some attention, if you please."

I sighed as I stood up in position and followed Sir Andre's lead.

I had gotten much better at dancing in a week's time. I learnt most of the basics from Emery and the rest was for Sir Andre to handle.

"And a one and a two!" Sir Andre demonstrated a graceful jump, his long, shoulder-length hair in the air like a modern-day model. I tried to imitate the jump, but ended up twisting my ankle. 

It wasn't such a serious case as all the present maids and Sir Andre made it out to be.

"Great heavens!" Sir Andre gasped and came running towards me. He crouched, worriedly looking at my reddening ankle. "How did this happen?"

I laughed lightheartedly before pulling my feet under the cover of my dress.

"It's alright," I said, getting up. "I'm certain I can carry on." 

"No, you won't," said Sir Andre as he steered me by the shoulders to a chair which had magically appeared behind me. "You will sit here silently while this servant here," he turned his head and pointed to Emery's substitute who was a nice girl named Zoie. "She will apply some ointment to your injured ankle. Now get going, you. Ask Miss Martha for the right ointment needed for reducing pain and swelling." He gestured to her to go get the medication and obediently, Zoie went off running with tears in her eyes. 

"But Sir Andre, I do believe I'm quite alright," I said hastily, showing him by twisting and turning my supposedly injured ankle. "If you-"

Sir Andre shushed me with a finger to his lips. "Enuf!" he said loudly, his accent slipping through. "I will not forsee any injuries occurring during my lesson. That is final. Now if you excuse me." He walked on over to the table of refreshments while I sat idly on a chair in the middle of the room. It was indeed very frustrating that Sir Andre wasn't prepared to listen to me at all, but on the bright side, it did make me a little happy to see that he cared about his student's well being. I had always thought he'd be a narcissist. 

Zoie came back fairly quickly with a jar of salve in her hands and it was applied to BOTH my ankles even though only one had been twisted. "Better safe than sorry," Zoie whispered as she rubbed the ointment on my second foot. 

After that, our lesson was cut short and a random guard was told to carry me to my room even though I could walk perfectly well. Martha was waiting for me by the door, her arms crossed. 

"I can't believe this," she sighed as she thanked the guard and told him to lay me on my bed. "How could you be so careless, Your Highness?"

"I wasn't!" Okay, maybe a little. "And I'm perfectly fine," I sighed. "I told him too but he wouldn't listen."

"It's because he's worried," she rolled her eyes, her wrinkles stretching. 

"He is, isn't he?" I smiled. 

"Not about you!" Martha said. "He's worried that he'd be chewed up by His Majesty if you got seriously injured when the ceremony is two days away. He only cares about himself after all."

My head drooped down "Oh..." I knew he was a narcissist. 

Martha left me to rest while she went to get some bandages. I laid my head down on my soft, silk pillow, letting my legs dangle down freely so as not to ruin the duvet.

Now I could think a bit more about Yvonne and her proposed plan.

A decoy, huh? She said she had someone already in mind. But was her plan so fool-proof as she made it out to be? Won't the Emperor notice? Won't anyone notice?

I sat up a little when I heard the door creak. Martha was to be expected to come bustling in but after waiting a minute or two, I decided that it must have misheard. I sighed and moved to lay my head back down but something happened that made my body completely freeze up.

Something was grabbing onto my ankle. The one with the ointment.

I dared not make a sound. I just kept in that awkward position for a few seconds before giving my leg a little tug. And it was free. At the speed of light, I pulled my legs up onto the bed, for once not caring about dirtying the clean duvet.

"Eww," came a voice from under the bed, followed by several loud sniffs. "What is this, slime?"

My tense shoulders sagged as I realized who this voice belonged to.

"Haven't you learned your lesson once?" I sighed. "Why do you keep doing this? What if Martha decided to suddenly sweep under the bed?"

"But why would she decide to do so," Reynard said with a hint of humor in his voice as he crawled out from under there, "when it is already spotless? Believe me, I know."

"I don't doubt you do," I muttered. "Well, how long have you been waiting?"

"Just got here half an hour ago," he answered, cleaning his hand with a pocket-napkin. "Or was it one?"

With a large 'plop', he threw himself on my bed face first and melted into the softness. "Princess, it isn't fair how you get to keep all the good stuff. I mean, do you feel this bed? I can't believe you get to sleep here every night."

I hardly poked the side of his waist with my feet. "Aren't you getting a little too comfortable around me? Get out of my bed. And anyways, Martha could be coming back any minute now."

"That maid of yours sure is something, y'know?" he said thoughtfully, imprinting circles on the white sheet with his fingers. "She started going crazy when that little girl came to ask for the salve jar. At one point I even thought she was about to cry. Were you hurt that badly?"

"No," I said thoughtfully, my toes automatically wiggling.

I knew Martha cared about me from the very start. She may seem stern and harsh at times but at the end of the day, she was just like a grandma taking good care of her little grandchild whom she just cannot come to hate.

"Anyways, go on," I poked him again, urgently this time. "Get out. Hide or something. I can practically hear her footsteps now. She's coming back. Go!"

"I can't leave yet, though," he grunted as he got up. "I need you to hear out my plan. After all, we don't have much time left." 

"Grand, grand, whatever," I said dismissively, giving him a little push. "Now go!"

He looked at me funny because of my tone. "Okay. I'll be around."

With a single glance back, Reynard went into hiding again, this time out through the window. And on the side, in came Martha with a tray of all sorts of medical equipment in her hands, just in time to catch a glimpse of Reynard's cloak as he left.

"Was that a crow?" she asked, concerned. 

"Haha...I dunno," I laughed awkwardly, fingering the bandages nervously.

Martha walked over to the window and peered outside before shutting the window and locking the latch. 

"Crows don't fly here at this time of the year. I don't think," she muttered to herself. "Anyways, it's better to lock it....just in case."

"Right," I said.. "Better do that."