The carriage swayed gently back and forth as it clattered along the streets.  The windows were covered but there was no one here to look inside anyway, the Royal Road of Asteryn was deserted except for the guards standing every few yards.  Inside a girl sat, straight-backed, her hands clasped in her lap so tightly her knuckles turned white.  If she strained her ears she could hear the bustle of the city, hidden behind the white walls that bordered the street.  She was grateful there were no crowds around but being alone meant there was no way to keep the anxious thoughts at bay.  She rubbed the sweat from her palms on the back of her skirts.  Soon they would be at the palace, whether she was ready for it or not.

She felt the sharp incline as they approached the final level and in what felt like only seconds the carriage rolled to a stop.  A moment later the door opened and Misa Yokomoto looked out with a gasp at the royal palace for the first time.

It was nearly blinding at first, the white stonework and glass windows reflecting the sun.  It was elegant, easily the tallest building the young Misa had set eyes on, spires reaching to the sky.  She craned her neck up to see the top where one tower stood above all the others but was too blinded by the light to see.

“My lady,” a voice said, and Misa quickly looked in front of her where the coachman was patiently holding out his hand.  

Quickly she took it and descended from the carriage with a quiet “thank you.”

Her legs were shaking after so long sitting, her dress rumbled, and her hair no doubt a mess.  It had taken them three days to reach Asteryn, the capital city of Aeloria and the inns they had stayed at hadn’t lent themselves well to grooming.  Across the courtyard she saw two women approaching and tried to pull the cloth of her dress into some semblance of order, pushing the fringe of her hair out of her eyes.

“Lady Yokomoto,” the elder of the two women said as they stopped in front of her.  She looked to be in her 70s, her face wrinkled but her eyes like sharp steel.  Her hair was as grey as her eyes, pulled into a severe bun at the back of her head.

Misa, unsure of what to do, simply nodded, despite it not being a question so much as a statement.

The old woman continued on without acknowledging the awkward greeting.  “My name is Madame Elira Whitcombe.  I have been selected as your head of household during your stay at the palace.”  She cast a gaze at Misa’s traveler’s appearance.  “I’ll show you to your quarters so you can freshen up before introducing you to the rest of the house.  And…your companion.”  When she spoke of the companion, Madame Whitcombe’s mouth seemed to tighten.

”Come now, Madame Whitcombe,” the other woman said.  Her voice was deep and full and her blue eyes were sparkling with amusement.  “Give the girl some warmth.”  Madame Whitcombe humphed but the other woman ignored it.

Something in her voice seemed almost familiar to Misa and she took a closer look.  Tall and refined, the woman wore a deep blue dress, modestly cut, and a veil that shimmered in the sun.  The wisps of hair that peeked out had streaks of silver in the black.  Her face was elegant, with high cheekbones and a pointed jaw and that nagging feeling intensified in the back of Misa’s mind.

”I am Lady Seraphine.  I dare say you don’t remember me, Misa.  We met a very long time ago.  Well, a long time for you, young one.  I am your great-aunt, but if you don’t mind I would rather be referred to simply as your aunt.  I might be great, but I need no reminders of my age.”  Lady Serapine laughed.

Misa felt her cheeks go red.  “Oh.  It’s a, a pleasure to meet you, my lady,” she said, dropping into a shaky curtsy.  She stared down at the mosaic cobblestone under her feet, blues, yellows, and silvers blending together at random.  She tried to search for a pattern, trying to keep tears of embarrassment from falling from her stinging eyes.

”No need to be so formal, child,” Lady Seraphine said.  “We are family, after all.  And I’m sure in a couple of years we’ll be working closely together.  For your magical tutorage,” she clarified when Misa stared blankly.  “I assume you haven’t shown any signs yet?”

Misa mutely shook her head.  She had all but forgotten the ancient celestial magic of her mother’s family.  It had been years now since her death and even when she was alive she rarely used the power.  Misa had memories of when she was young, sleeping in the same room as her parents, her mother projecting starlight on the ceiling for them to find shapes in the stars.

“You’re what?  Twelve?  Well, it would certainly be early if you had.  I look forward to seeing your growth, Misa.”  Lady Seraphine held out her hand and Misa took it, only hesitating a little.  The woman tilted her head slightly, studying her.  “I look forward to it, indeed.”

Madame Whitcombe bowed her head to Lady Seraphine as the lady left them in the courtyard.  Misa stared after her until Madame Whitcombe said briskly, “Well, let us go and get you settled, Lady Misa.”

Misa had never felt smaller as she approached the entrance to the palace with its high ceilings and open hall.  She had to hurry to keep up with Madame Whitcombe's pace, but couldn’t stop herself from gazing around.  The windows were high and clear, the sunlight that was pouring in looking even brighter as it bounced off the whitewashed walls.  Madame Whitcombe led her down several hallways before they approached a large open door, guarded by two men in the pale blue and gold livery of the royal family.  One nodded to Madame Whitcombe as they passed through.

“This is the nominee-wing,” Madame Whitcombe explained.  “As you can see, we are on the western side of the palace.”

Misa wouldn’t have been able to place their location, though she did notice that hallways were dotted with more clear windows, though they weren’t as large as those downstairs.

“This is where you’ll be living and learning for the next six years.  Or however long you will remain with us.  It will be your own household with servants, tutors, and other staff.  Of course, you won’t have to worry about running it yourself.  That is what I’m here for.”

Misa nodded before remembering that she was, in fact, behind Madame Whitcombe and couldn’t be seen, but the madame continued on anyway.

“This is the servant’s floor.  You shan’t be spending much time here, if any at all, of course.  And the next floor up is where your tutors will be living.”

Misa’s legs were burning by the time they reached the fourth level.  Her house back home was built in the style of her father’s people, all on one single level, almost the exact opposite of the palace she was in now.  There was a clear difference to this floor than the two they had passed by.  The windows were a little larger and paintings hung on the walls.  Under her feet was a plush blue carpeting.  Madame Whitcombe led her down the hall, pointing out which rooms would be for which lessons until Misa’s head was spinning.

“And this is the library.”  They stopped at the end of the hall.

Misa looked through the doorway and gasped aloud.  Her father was a scholar and she had never had a lack of books to read, but the library here was three times the size of the one back home with shelves that reached ten feet tall.  The books were orderly rather than haphazardly shelved, standing like proud soldiers, ready to go to war in someone’s mind.

Madame Whitcombe, she noticed, was watching her with a satisfied look.  “Do you enjoy reading, Lady Misa?”

“Oh, yes,” Misa nodded.

“Then I’m sure you’ll find yourself spending a lot of time here.  For now, there is only one more level, that of your domestic life.  You’ll find your chambermaid waiting for you in your bedroom.  Once you’ve freshened up I’ll take you to meet your companion and have a good meal.”

The top floor was similar to the last with its art hung walls and carpet.  In what was now Misa’s bedchamber stood a young woman, brown curls struggling out from under a starch white cap.

“Nella,” Madame Whitcombe said, addressing the young woman.  “Lady Misa has arrived.  Please help her get changed and ready for an evening meal.”

“Yes, Madame Whitcombe.” Nella curtseyed once to the madame and then again to Misa.

“Oh, and welcome, Lady Misa, to theCrownspire.”  With that, Madame Whitcombe stepped out of the room and closed the door, leaving Misa alone with her new chambermaid.

“Um,” Misa started, unsure of what to do.  She had never had a chambermaid before, all her dresses having been made in a more child-like fashion, easy to put on and take off on her own.  But she knew that having a good relationship with a chambermaid was important and didn’t want to give a terrible first impression.

But Nella didn’t seem worried about Misa’s timidness.  She smiled at her brightly, a dimple sinking into one cheek.  “It’s your first time at Crownspire, isn’t Lady Misa?  It can be a bit overwhelming, but you’ll get used to it.”  Nella turned around and opened the armoire which was already full of dresses.  She ruffled through them.  “Do you have a color that you prefer?  These were all made up within the last week, you know, all very fashionable.”

“I-I don’t have a particular color, no,” Misa said, now worried that she ought to.  “I didn’t know that I was going to get new clothes.”

“I heard that you’re coming from the countryside,” Nella said, pulling one dress out far enough to hold the color up in front of Misa.  “One of the royal holdings far out.  I suppose they didn’t think you’d have clothes fit for the Luminant Court.  Oh, not to offend you, of course.  But I imagine fashion would be the last thing on your mind here, so perhaps it’s helpful for you to not need to worry about getting your own new clothes.”

Nella worked quickly, as quickly as Misa would herself with her old, simple dresses.  Within moments she found herself in her chemise, then covered in a blue dress with hooks latching and laces tied.  Nella sat her down in front of a mirror and brushed through her thick locks and carefully braided them down her back.  Misa let her work, only nodding now and then to agree to whatever Nella had in mind for her.  Her mousey brown hair wasn’t too difficult to wrangle, despite the thickness, always insisting on being straight rather than with the waves that ladies supposedly slept in papers for, or the shining ringlets that framed Nella’s face.

“There we are,” Nella said, taking a step back to survey her work.  “What do you think, Lady Misa?”

“I…It’s…” Misa looked at her reflection.  Not much had really changed, only her dress being made of finer material than simple cotton.  But she felt her cheeks heating up as she looked at herself.  “It’s lovely,” she said.  “I’ve never worn anything like this before.”  She stood, moving stiffly in the layered skirts.

Nella beamed at her approval.  “I’m glad you like it.  Lady Dawn…have you met her yet?”

Misa shook her head.

“Oh, well, maybe I shouldn’t say much.  Lady Dawn is your companion, you know.  Anyway, she doesn’t seem the type to have much patience for dressing.”  Nella shrugged.  It was clear she didn’t take this impatience with her skills personally.  “But her clothing all came with her, so I suppose there isn’t anything different for her.”  Nella picked up Misa’s travel-worn dress.  “Do you want me to have this washed and brought back?” she asked.

Misa wasn’t sure when or even if she would have a chance to wear what looked like an old rag in comparison to the magnificence of the dresses in the armoire, but she found herself nodding anyway.

“I haven’t seen a dress in this style before,” Nella said, holding it up.  “But it suits you.”

“It’s from my father.  I mean, where he’s from,” Misa explained.  Her father’s culture was minimalistic in comparison to everything she had seen the last couple of days.  Plain colors, plain fabrics, putting comfort over fashion.  In fact, many of Misa’s clothing had included soft breeches underneath, something even after a life lived in the countryside she knew would cause some scandal if she arrived wearing them.  The dress she wore now was certainly different, but as she glanced in the mirror again, she found that she enjoyed the effect.  For the first time in her life she looked almost grown-up.

There was a knock on the door and Nella quickly stepped over to open it, revealing Madame Whitcombe.  “Are you dressed?  Good.  Dinner should be on the table by now.”  She looked Misa up and down and nodded.  “Well done, Nella.  She looks almost like a different girl.”

Misa didn’t know how she felt about being a different girl, but she murmured her thanks anyway.

“You’ll be dining with Lady Dawn tonight,” Madame Whitcombe said as she led Misa down the hall.  “And every night, in fact.  Are you familiar with companions?  I don’t believe you’ve had one yet?”

“Yes.  I mean, no, I haven’t, but I am familiar,” Misa said.  “My mother had a companion.”

“Ah, yes, of course. Rowena and Lucinda, I should have remembered.”  A fond smile touched Madame Whitcombe’s lips.  “Well in that case you’ll know that Lady Dawn is here to be your classmate, your friend, and your confidant.  The two of you will be learning, eating, and sleeping together and I do hope you’ll become good friends.”  Something about the last part of her sentence seemed a little wooden to Misa’s ear.

Misa could smell the food before they reached the door to the dining room and her stomach complained at not having it immediately.  The breakfast at the inn she had stayed at last night felt like a lifetime ago.  And in a way, she supposed, it was.  Her appetite had come and gone throughout the day as the nerves surged.

“Here we are,” Madame Whitcombe ushered Misa into the room.  “Lady–oh for the love of–” she clamped her lips shut.  The room, a gentle semi-circle, held a long table with steaming platters, cushioned chairs, and jugs sitting on podiums, but nothing else.  “Please, sit, Lady Misa,” Madame Whitcombe said, composing herself.  “I’ll just step out and see where Lady Dawn has gotten herself…again.”  She muttered the last part with such annoyance Misa was surprised that daggers didn’t spit from her mouth.  Misa found her appetite once again quite gone.  She had just sat down when the muffled sound of feet on carpet made its way from down the hall and a girl turned the corner, almost running face first into the disapproving caretaker.

“Oh!  Um…oops.”

“Lady Dawn!”  Madame Whitcombe sounded exasperated to the point that Misa had a feeling this interaction had played out before.  “You need to learn to keep your eyes on the clock.  I told you several times to be here at 5 o’clock.  And for goodness sake, don’t run down the hallways.  That is hardly becoming of a young lady.”

“Yes, sorry,” the girl replied, not sounding sorry in the slightest.  “I was…time got away from me.”

“As it tends to do.”

The girl, Dawn, peeked around Madame Whitcombe, all but ignoring her rigid, angry posture, and smiled at Misa.

She was a very pretty girl.  Pale and slender, her cheeks red from the exertion of running from wherever she had lost track of time.  Her large eyes were almost colorless in the sunlight, but as she approached Misa saw that they were a delicate pale green.  Blonde locks tumbled down her back and over her shoulders in waves and curls, looking very much like she had run a relay.

“Hello!” she said brightly.  “My name is Dawn.”

Misa couldn’t help but smile back.

Madame Whitcombe cleared her throat.  “Lady Misa Yokomoto,” she said, with a pointed pronunciation.  “I’d like to introduce you to Lady Dawn Merridan, youngest child of Lord and Lady Merridan of House Raeburn.  Lady Dawn, this is Lady Misa Yokomoto, great-niece to the king and heir-nominee of Aeloria.”

“Yes, yes, lady this, lady that.”  Dawn pulled a chair out from the table and sat down next to Misa.  “I think there’s enough ladies around here already.  I’d rather you just call me Dawn.  Since we’re going to be spending so much time together the titles will just be tiring.”

Misa was taken aback by such casual treatment, especially after being treated with such distance by her carriage driver.  She hadn’t ever had a girl her own age speak to her so carefree.  She rather liked it.  “Then please, call me Misa,” she said.

“Misa,” Dawn agreed.  “I’m glad you finally got here.  I’ve been here a week and was starting to get bored.”

“Yes,” Madame Whitcombe interjected, “and now you’ll have proper duties to perform.”  She stared intently at Dawn who didn’t seem to notice.  “And I expect you to perform them…adequately.  Lady Misa, please eat your fill and then take the night to relax.  Your lessons start first thing tomorrow.”

Dawn looked towards Misa and spoke in a quieter voice.  “I was bored, but I can’t say lessons were what I was wanting to liven things up.”  She shrugged.  “Oh, but I am starving!”

Misa was sure she heard Madame Whitcombe groan quietly as Dawn reached across the table for a platter.