Look Beyond What You See
Juniper

“I’ll be across the hall in my chambers. Knock on my door when you’re ready for breakfast and your tour,” Dmitri instructs on his way out of my suite. I merely nod in reply, too overwhelmed by surveying the rooms to use words. They’ve given me entirely too much space, and it’s decorated as a royal bedchamber would be, nothing like my lovely little peasant cottage room at home. I don’t like it. This whole suite could be a house or two on its own. Entirely too formal and stuffy, with the rich wooden furnishings, elaborate tapestries, and expensive fabrics, all themed in gold and royal purple and polished oak. I feel like I’m suffocating. There aren’t enough windows to alleviate this feeling, but I open all of them immediately, pulling back the heavy purple curtains and flinging the glass panels wide. The breeze is soothing and rushes into the suite like a long-lost friend, extinguishing the fire burning on the hearth in my personal fireplace. I don’t mind; who keeps a fire burning in summer?

“Milady, what in Heaven’s name do you think you’re doing?” a rather snooty voice demands behind me. I turn to see a middle-aged woman in a maid’s uniform, glaring at me impertinently with her hands on her hips. Where she came from, I haven’t the first clue. I strongly suspect, however, that she doesn’t know Dmitri was just here, or that I just came down from the roof.

“Airing the place out. It’s too stuffy for my liking,” I reply in my most matter-of-fact tone.

“But the fire’s gone out! I’ll have to call Lucy to replenish it.”

“Don’t bother. There’s no need for a fire in June. The weather is lovely outside.” She arches an eyebrow at me, clearly wondering what her master and mistress have brought home with them. Can this really be the girl they have chosen to marry their son? she seems to be wondering. I can’t help smirking a bit at the thought. “My name is Aerys. Might I know yours?”

“Juniper,” she replies stiffly. I don’t think she’s used to the kind of informality I prefer, in spite of Dmitri’s having said that things are less formal here than they were at Grandmother’s chateau.

“A pleasure to meet you, Juniper. Now, I am of the understanding that all of my personal belongings were brought up here before me. Where might they have been placed?”

“We’ve already unpacked them for you, milady.”

“Oh! How kind of you. Might you show me where everything is?” She sniffs, as though fulfilling my request is beneath her dignity.

“I’m afraid there isn’t terribly much to show you. My mistress was less than pleased by the clothing you brought with you. It seems that your servants packed your trunks with their clothing instead of yours. Peasants’ wear, the lot of it. Those things have been removed from your chambers. Your instruments are in our music room, and the sketchpads and schoolbooks and such are on your desk, in the next room.” I smile thinly, being most displeased by the removal of my clothing.

“I thank you for your help, but there was no mistake in the packing. I prefer the simpler clothes of the peasant folk to the attire that most would say is best suited to my position in life.”

“Your own parents might have permitted such squalor, but here we will tolerate nothing of the sort.”

“Then what am I to change into? I’ve been wearing this dress far longer than anyone ought to be required to wear anything so formal.” Juniper shrugs insolently. I do not like her. I will ask for a replacement as soon as I replace Dmitri’s parents.

“I’m sure there’s something in your armoire. My master and mistress have had your measurements for some time, and they ordered many clothes for you, in conjunction with your family. Were you not informed?” I glare at her sourly.

“I was not. My family did not tell me I’d been promised as a bride until dinner last night.” Juniper gasps at the indignity of my situation. Perhaps she is human, after all. I feared she was a mechanical being.

“My apologies, milady. If I’d known, I never would have expected you to be prepared for this. It must be quite a shock to you.”

“Rather.”

“Where have you been? Your things arrived hours ago.”

“Dmitri was showing me the roof garden.” Juniper thins her lips with disapproval.

“Of course he was. The boy has no sense of propriety. Perhaps we can train you to instill him with one.” That I highly doubt. “Come with me. We’ll replace something for you to wear and I’ll show you where everything is.”

My first impression of the chambers is validated by the tour I am given by the pompous maid. Everything is purple and gold, with far too few windows and far too elaborate, ornate, formal furnishings. I am struck with waves of homesickness, longing for my simple whitewashed walls and handmade furnishings and my wide open windows overlooking the fields. The one advantage this place has are the stairs in the back room to the roof. For this reason alone I will not ask for new accommodations. I might well, however, ask that I be permitted new staff and the right to redo my rooms as I please.

The armoire is likewise a supreme disappointment. Last I knew I was only the unimportant third daughter of a broken man and a she-devil, both under the thumbs of the man’s malevolent parents, but the dresses in here indicate that they must think me a princess or some nonsense. Simplicity and ordinary fabrics simply are not to be had here, that is plain. My mother and Zira would be in heaven. I am supremely annoyed. But after a bit of arguing with Juniper, we settle on a fairly simple frock of aristocratic blue and a pair of low-heeled slippers, and I cross the hall to knock on Dmitri’s door.

“Faster than I expected,” he remarks coolly as he opens the door.

“I’m full of surprises,” I respond.

“Are the rooms to your liking?”

“You should ask me again at another time. The maid was rather surly and they got rid of all the clothes I brought from home.” My tone makes it clear that I am offended in spite of my best efforts. He arches an eyebrow at my obvious displeasure.

“Why would they do that? And which maid?”

“Apparently the peasants’ attire I usually wear is inappropriate. She calls herself Juniper.” At the sound of her name he bursts into peals of laughter. “What is the joke?”

“She fancies herself in charge of the house. Father acquired her from the British court. You’ll get used to her in time.”

“She was rather kinder when I informed her of my family’s misbehaviour in regards to our current circumstances.”

“I would expect no less. Shall we to breakfast?”

“As you please.” I pay careful attention as he leads me through the stairways and corridors, memorising the layout of the mansion and putting together a mental map. He occasionally points out the purpose of a particular room or makes note of a piece of artwork or architecture. I say all the right things in reply, but I’m really not paying attention to him. Learning my way around this new prison is more important. Once I discover all of its secrets, surely I can replace a way to escape. Dmitri is nice enough and the roof garden is delightful, but I can already tell that the formality, the clothes, and the rest of it will annoy me to no end.

Why could I not have been born to a normal family?

“Here we are. The dining room,” Dmitri announces, opening the heavy wooden door and allowing me to enter first. For all Juniper thinks he has ‘no sense of propriety,’ he certainly acts the proper gentleman with me. I wonder why he bothers. It’s my understanding that I’m to be his bride no matter how he treats me.

“Welcome, children. Did you sleep well?” Wesley inquires as we enter the lushly furnished room. Heavy red carpets, glossy hand-carved mahogany furniture, massive crystal and gold chandeliers, candles everywhere, not a window in sight, red silk hangings on the walls. Oppressive. Am I to take the rest of my meals here?

“We slept on the way home. I have been showing Aerys the mansion,” Dmitri answers smoothly. His hand touches the small of my back and I arch away from him. No matter what we’re meant to be, I’m not ready for that kind of contact from him, not now. My family was not much for touching, except in the matter of sexual relations, and I’m certainly not ready for that nonsense.

“Of course. And how do you replace your new home so far?” Zinaida asks brightly. She’s trying too hard to make me feel welcome.

“Pleasant enough,” I answer briefly, as I’m sure is expected. I’d rather not make a scene, just now. Both of Dmitri’s parents smile broadly.

“Excellent. Breakfast will be served immediately,” Wesley responds with two claps for the chef’s benefit.

“Aerys mentioned that the clothes she brought from home were not kept,” Dmitri comments. I shoot him a glare. He should have taken a hint from my refusal to bring up my complaints and remained silent on the matter. Zinaida seems perplexed.

“There seems to have been some sort of mistake with the packing. The trunks were filled with peasants’ clothing, and none too much of that,” she sniffs disdainfully.

“Grandmother always permitted me to go about in peasant dress when we had no visitors,” I explain quietly, keeping my eyes lowered as a spinach, mushroom, and swiss omelet is placed in front of me. At least they got my food preferences right. Zinaida gasps in horror at this admission.

“I simply cannot believe that your grandmother would permit such a thing! Did they not prepare you at all for this?”

“What, precisely, do you mean by ‘this?’ I learned to read in my second year, could play an instrument as soon as I could walk, and have spent most of my time since then in various studies. I have been taught etiquette and political science, history and geography, mathematics and the sciences, literature and languages, music and dancing and all manner of artistic pursuits. What does my manner of dress in private have to do with my preparation for anything?” I demand, quiet but fiery nonetheless. If it is a scene Dmitri wants, it is a scene he will be having. Perhaps they will send me back.

“We received reports of your studies,” Wesley soothes while his wife sputters, “and we have no doubt that you are highly educated. My wife is simply concerned that you were not prepared for the type of household we prefer to keep here.”

“As you will recall, I had no idea that I would be here today until dinner last night. In fact, I haven’t the foggiest idea where ‘here’ even is. I pray you will excuse my lack of preparation and beseech that you will deign to explain exactly what you mean by the type of household you prefer to keep.” My cold words seem to amuse Dmitri, while his parents have no idea what to do with me. Perhaps they were expecting a mechanical bride for their son, or one who could be easily controlled. A pity Grandmother’s spell on my necklace, if indeed there was such a thing, isn’t working as hoped.

“Well. Ahem. We, erm, we prefer to keep a household that speaks of our rank, and expect everyone to dress accordingly. What you are currently wearing is absolutely the most informal you will ever be permitted to dress. Attire such as you wore yesterday is preferable,” Zinaida sniffs haughtily.

“What, pray tell, is your rank? Are you royalty of some degree?”

“Quite nearly. My wife is a member of high-ranking Russian nobility, and I am a younger son of a prominent British duke,” Wesley explains proudly.

“Forgive my insolence, Your Excellencies,” I reply with only slight sarcasm. They most likely won’t pick up on it. Dmitri does, however, by the amused glint in his eyes. Perhaps he will be my only ally here.

“You are forgiven. It is only your first day with us, and your family did not tell you of this change in your circumstances. We simply ask that you be as cooperative as possible.”

“I shall do my best. If you do not mind telling me, how exactly did this change in my circumstances come about?” Dmitri’s parents look at each other helplessly.

“She wasn’t supposed to be asking these questions!” Zinaida hisses, barely audible. I have gained sharp hearing from my skulking through the hidden passages of Grandmother’s chateau. “I thought the necklace was meant to--”

“We will tell you the story another time, I promise,” Wesley tells me with a smile that does not reach his eyes. He is hoping that I will not ask again. They are all conspiring to hide something from me, and I like it not.

Perhaps a room in this mansion holds the answers. I do believe Dmitri will be showing me the rest of the mansion sooner rather than later, else I shall explore on my own.

“As you wish,” I reply calmly, keeping my anger hidden. Let them think that the charm is simply malfunctioning. Mayhap I will begin to act bewitched around them, so that more information might be forthcoming, or at least so that they will let me do as I like. One way or another, I will replace out what I want to know.

***~O~***