84

The thought was so horrifying it rattled down my spine like a physical touch. Had Duchess Alana really been capable of something so awful? Using her son to get rid of her own husband?

“He’d be proud of you now,” I said. “That much I know.”

He swallowed hard, his eyes closed tight. My heart broke for him—for us both—but there was still a flare of pride there too. It hurt, but we’d done the right thing. For ourselves, and for our kingdom.

“Come on,” I said, “let’s get some sleep before we have to face your adoring subjects in a few hours.”

Elias climbed out of the tub and toweled off, and then we fell into the bed as quickly as we could. We wouldn’t have much peace now, not with all the work that needed to be done to heal the city from Rodthar’s terrible leadership, and then the specter of Corinne looming in the future. There wasn’t a lot of peace to be found, but there was a little here, in this moment. The sun had already crossed the horizon, but with Elias’ arms finally around me, sleep came easy.

28

T

hree weeks passed in a rush of activity. There was so much to do to right the city and the kingdom: buildings to repair, grievances to hear, announcements to deliver, plans to be made, meetings to be had. It was an endless, stressful rush, but at the same time, it felt good to be doing it. Elias and I were finally working together as king and queen instead of living our separate lives in the same manor. Our days were spent navigating the endless details of leadership, and during our nights we cherished the moments of privacy we had together.

It was a rhythm. One I was beginning to enjoy, and even thrive in.

It was a beautiful, sunny day in the city when I had scheduled an appointment at Camille’s to do the final fitting for the outfit I had made for our upcoming summit. Elias and I had invited delegates from all the courts of Frasia, to discuss what had happened in Shianga, and the threat Corinne posed to all of us. I wanted to show the courts the queen I was now. No longer was I simply the winner of the Choice, a beautiful piece of arm candy for the king to display. I was a leader in my own right.

“Wonderful to see you, your Highness,” Aerika said warmly as she welcomed me into the shop. She looked as effortlessly stunning as ever, with her silvery hair pulled up into a bun and her deep brown eyes blinking owlishly. She wore a plain linen suit, with a pincushion shaped like a rose fastened around her wrist. “I hope you haven’t been too busy with the preparations for the upcoming summit.”

“It’s been a bit much,” I admitted, “but going well.”

“Good, good,” Aerika said. “We’ve just finished up your order. Please, step this way for the fitting.”

It was a quiet day in the shop, and I was grateful for the peace. I’d come here alone for a reason, and from the curious gleam in Aerika’s eyes, I figured she knew that, too. I stepped up onto the platform in front of the trio of mirrors. Aerika arranged the dressing screen, and then called the tailors out from the back room.

Two tailors emerged, in similar plain clothes to Aerika. One was tall and thin, with silvery hair and pale blue eyes, and the other was a bit shorter, with wispy blonde hair cropped close to her head. They both moved with the same easy grace Aerika did. All three had a similar aura—an aura that was now familiar to me from my time with Corinne.

“Here you are, Your Highness,” Aerika said. “Sewed just to your specifications.”

Behind the dressing screen, Aerika helped me out of my simple day gown. I’d ordered a pair of fine trousers and matching jacket. Fit for a queen, but unlike anything I’d seen a queen wear before. The pants were dark, silk, and embroidered with silver, with a high waist that tied in the back almost like a corset. Accompanying it was a pale shirt Aerika had made, the same color as the embroidery, and then a long jacket that fell just past my knees, embroidered at the hems. It was elegant, simple, and feminine—but functional.

“It’s gorgeous,” I said as she pulled away the dressing screen. I turned in front of the mirrors, seeing the jacket from every angle, admiring the detail in the embroidery that ran up the back. “You’ve outdone yourself.”

The Fae tailors smiled then disappeared, returning to the back room.

Aerika smiled, pleased. Then she took the jacket off my shoulders and hung it back on the nearby dressing rack.

“I’m pleased you like it,” she said. “Let me just make a few adjustments to the fit of these pieces.”

She knelt on the platform and peered thoughtfully at the hem of the pants, then pinched the fabric a bit tighter and pinned it in place. I watched her reflection as she worked. We were alone in the tailor shop, and now there were questions that weighed heavily on me.

“Aerika,” I said, “can I ask you something?”

“Certainly,” she said, with her eyes still focused on the hem of my pants. “What’s on your mind?”

“Do you know what happened?” I asked. “In Shianga?”

Her hands stilled, and her dark eyes glanced up at me. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Draunar has been removed from power,” I said. Rumors had been traveling through Frasia, that much I knew, but the details of what had happened in Shianga had yet to be discussed in an official capacity. Not until the summit. “He was removed by Corinne, the Fae queen. He had been holding her captive.”

“So it’s true,” Aerika murmured.

“You’ve heard word of this?” I asked.

Aerika sighed and turned her attention to the other hem of my pants, making sure the adjustments matched exactly. “I suppose there’s no reason to dance around it, is there?” she asked. “You know of my Fae heritage.”

“I had my suspicions,” I said.