The Royal Solar was supposed to be a place of quiet contemplation for the monarch. Currently, it looked like a dressmaker's shop had exploded inside it.
"Absolutely not," Maya said, crossing her arms.
Queen Erika stood in front of a tall mirror, frowning at the gown she was holding against herself. It was a bright, canary yellow with puffy sleeves that looked like two angry clouds.
"It was a gift from the Duchess of the Southern Marshes," Erika sighed. "Diplomatic protocol says I should wear it to the harvest feast."
"Diplomatic protocol doesn't require you to look like a lemon meringue pie," Maya countered, snatching the dress away and tossing it onto a pile of rejected silks. "Wear the blue one. It matches your eyes. And it doesn't scream 'I am hiding a chicken in my sleeves.'"
Erika flopped onto the velvet chaise lounge, kicking off her stiff royal shoes. "I hate politics. I hate banquets. I just want to sit here and eat grapes."
"Then eat grapes," Maya grabbed a cluster from a silver bowl and tossed one to the Queen. Erika caught it in her mouth with practiced ease.
"Nice shot," Maya grinned.
For the last two months, Maya had become more than just a guest; she was Erika's shadow, her confidant, and the only person in the castle who didn't bow every time Erika sneezed. While Leo was busy making moon-eyes at the Sky Princess and Arthur was getting beaten up by Conrad, Maya and Erika had carved out these small, quiet moments.
"So," Maya sat down on the edge of the chaise, adopting a sly expression. "Speaking of people we want to look nice for... have you seen the Hero of Aethelgard today?"
Erika choked on her grape. "I... what? I see Arthur every day. He guards me."
"He guards you," Maya mimicked Erika's serious royal voice. "Yes. Very closely. I noticed he guards you especially closely during dinner. And when you're walking in the garden. And he seems very interested in guarding the specific air around you."
Erika's cheeks turned a shade of pink that clashed horribly with the yellow dress on the floor. "He is doing his duty."
"Uh-huh," Maya leaned in. "And is it 'duty' that makes you stare at his arms when he's training in the courtyard? I saw you by the window yesterday, Erika. You fogged up the glass."
Erika groaned, covering her face with a cushion. "I hate you. You're observant. It's annoying."
"I'm a genius," Maya corrected. "So? Admit it. You like the farmboy."
Erika lowered the cushion slowly. Her blue eyes were wide and vulnerable.
"Is it that obvious?" she whispered.
"Only to anyone with eyes," Maya laughed. "But... it's sweet. He looks at you like you're the sun, Erika. Not the Queen. Just... you."
Erika rolled onto her back, staring at the painted ceiling. "He saved my life, Maya."
She paused, a soft smile touching her lips.
"But then, afterward... when he woke up in the infirmary... the first thing he did was apologize for making a deal to stay alive. He's so stupidly selfless."
"He's Arthur," Maya said fondly. "He's always been like that. He used to share his lunch with me in school even when he barely had enough for himself."
"Do you think..." Erika hesitated, twisting a ring on her finger. "Do you think a Queen can be with a... farmboy?"
"The history books say no," Maya said honestly.
Erika's face fell.
"But," Maya added, poking Erika's side. "Since when do you care about the rules? You're the girl who sneaks out to steal apples. You're the Queen who told the Corporations to shove their contracts. If you want the farmboy... make a new rule."
Erika laughed, the tension breaking. "A Royal Decree: The Queen shall date the cute boy with the demon sword."
"Exactly," Maya giggled. "Just... maybe wait until he stops passing out from mana exhaustion every Tuesday. It's not romantic to carry your date to the healer."
"Fair point."
They sat there for a while, eating grapes and laughing about Leo's disastrous attempts to explain surface-world vegetables to Princess Elara ("No, Your Highness, a pumpkin is not a weapon").
"Thank you, Maya," Erika said eventually, her voice soft.
"For what? Fashion advice?"
"For this," Erika gestured between them. "For being normal. Everyone else... they want something. Blake wants power. The envoys want money. Even Conrad wants me to be a symbol. You just want me to not wear ugly dresses."
"It's a public service, really," Maya joked, but she squeezed Erika's hand. "We're friends, Erika. That's real. No contracts needed."
Erika squeezed back. "Friends."
A knock on the door interrupted them.
"Your Majesty," a guard called out. "Lord Blake requests your presence in the Council Chamber. The budget reports."
Erika sighed, the weight of the crown settling back onto her shoulders. She stood up, smoothing her simple blue dress. The girl who laughed about boys vanished, replaced by the mask of the Queen.
"Duty calls," Erika said wearily.
"Go on," Maya shooed her. "I'll clean up this mess. And then... I actually need to head to the archives. I found some old rosters that are giving me a headache. I want to double-check them before I archive them."
Erika paused at the door. "Don't work too hard, Maya. It's just paperwork."
"I know," Maya smiled innocently. "Just tying up a few loose threads. I'll see you at dinner?"
"At dinner," Erika promised.
She left the room.
Maya stood alone in the solar. Her smile faded slowly, replaced by a look of sharp concentration. She looked at the pile of rejected dresses, then out the window toward the Spire of Whispers where Blake's office was.
"Just paperwork," Maya whispered to herself. "I hope."
She grabbed her satchel and headed for the door, unaware that the loose thread she was pulling was attached to a tiger's tail.