Fairest Read Online Free PDF Page A

cap with a single gray feather. “I never thought I’d wait on a servant,” she said, handing it to me.
    The cap was better. The gown was still absurd, but I was no longer quite so conspicuous.
    After I helped her dress, we joined the crowd trooping through the castle corridors. I shortened my stride to the duchess’s mincing steps. Enough people stared at me to make me wish myself back in my room. I thought of my family. If I missed the wedding, so would they.
    We finally reached the Hall of Song, which I’d heard of for as long as I could remember. Oaken pillars supported an oaken ceiling. Each pillar was a wooden elongated singer whose lines and features had been softened by the centuries. Suspended from the ceiling a wooden winged singer flew, her lips forming an O . A living lark perched on her left hand. Its song, clear and fine, was enhanced by the hall’s legendary acoustics.
    The seats were arranged in a three-quarter circle facing a stage. The duchess’s rank commanded a seat in the first row. I was on her right. Everyone was standing, and we stood, too.
    A tiny man with bushy eyebrows stood between the stage and the seats. He held a baton, so I knew he must be Sir Uellu, the Ontio choirmaster, the most respected person in Ayortha after the king.
    A flutist waited next to Sir Uellu, who raised his baton. The flutist began to play. Everyone hummed along with the flute. Under cover of the other voices, I illused, so that my humming came from the mouth of the wooden singer overhead. I was certain no one would hear me, but the choirmaster looked up. My heart almost flew out my mouth. I stopped illusing.
    King Oscaro and Prince Ijori and a large black boarhound stepped through the wine-red velvet curtains at the back of the stage. I knew the king by his crown and the prince by his dog. Every Ayorthaian knew about the prince and his faithful hound, Oochoo.
    Prince Ijori was only seventeen, but he was taller than his uncle, the king. He had his uncle’s rounded cheeks and narrow chin. He was handsome, very handsome, but for overlarge ears. I liked those ears. They were whimsical. They were charming.
    The prince’s expression was solemn, but I detected a gleam in his eye. Then I saw Oochoo lick a tidbit out of his hand. The hand moved to the pocket of his tunic, and the dog got another treat.
    The king was smiling, and I saw why everyone loved him. His smile was so sweet and kindly. King Oscaro was said to have the best heart in the kingdom. I believed it.
    He stepped to the edge of the stage while Prince Ijori and Oochoo moved to the side.
    A latecomer, a middle-aged woman wearing a gold tiara, crossed in front of me to reach her place three seats away. I wondered if she was Princess Elainee, the prince’s mother, the king’s sister.
    I sensed eyes on me. I glanced up, and it was the prince. I felt my blotchy blush begin. I saw myself in my mind’s mirror. Blushing made me as garish as blood on snow.
    I felt the duchess turn. I turned, too, as the bride entered the hall. The flutist missed a measure. Everyone’s humming faltered. The duchess stiffened.
    Merely pretty! She was ravishing. The tailor’s cousin needed new eyes. My own eyes could barely take her in. Ivi was only a few inches shorter than I, but she was fragile, almost insubstantial. Her honey-colored hair shone as though a bit of sunlight was caught in each strand. Her skin seemed to glow from within, like porcelain. Her bones—in her cheeks, her jaw, her wrists—were more finely shaped than the stem of a crystal goblet.
    She and I could have belonged to different species. She was ethereal, and I was base. I’d been a fool to imagine the slightest connection between us.
    She advanced in measured steps, as the ceremony required. Her expression was serious. Her gaze was on King Oscaro, except for a peek around the hall. She saw our astonishment and flashed a smile—of triumph, I