12

I tried not to scowl at my reflection and mostly succeeded. I hated the thought of the king looking at me and imagining my wolf—she was a private part of my soul, and I loathed to share her with the world at all.

“That’s fine,” I said.

To her credit, Amity seemed to understand I wasn’t interested in chatting. Hopefully, she’d just chalk it up to nerves. True to her word, she only put a small amount of makeup on me—a tint to my lips and a blush on my cheeks, making me look a little more doe-eyed and innocent than I wanted to. Then, from the drawer of the vanity, she pulled out a fine silver box.

“You’ll be wearing this today,” she said. “Lady Glennis had them made for all the contestants of the Choice.” She opened the box and revealed a delicate tiara.

It was silver, with delicate white stone cut in the shape of a semicircle, flanked by nine small diamonds. “This stone… Is it…?”

“Moonstone, yes,” Amity confirmed.

“It’s lovely,” I murmured. I’d seen jewelry made with moonstone at the marketplace, but I didn’t wear it myself. It was too valuable as a resource and too important to trade. Even the highest-ranking women of Starcrest, the pack responsible for its mining, only wore it decoratively. Gazing into the stone, I suddenly realized the design was particular to me as well. “This is my coat of arms.”

“Exactly,” Amity said. “Do you like it?”

“It’s gorgeous,” I said. And that was true, even if I didn’t exactly like it. Amity carefully fixed it in my hair, so the gems that represented my pack were centered above my blue eyes. I had to admit it looked nice, and not too ostentatious, tucked into my loose hair. As Amity adjusted the tiara in my hair, I noticed a similar gem, small and gleaming, embedded into a silver ring she wore on her middle finger. “You wear it as well?”

Amity blinked at me in confusion, and then followed the line of my gaze to the ring. “Oh, this?” she asked. “No, this is just a servant’s ring.”

“What do you mean?”

“Moonstone for function, not for beauty,” Amity said with a smile. “The tiara will look even better with your dress. Come with me.”

In the bedroom, Rue and Amity carefully helped me step into one of the gowns my father had commissioned on such short notice. The tailors had done a remarkably good job. The dress fit perfectly: a full teal skirt with an ivory bodice, with full long sleeves and teal embroidery detailing.

I wasn’t used to dressing like this, in heavy layers and long sleeves, but I was grateful for it now. This manor was drafty. Rue fastened the lacing at the back, carefully sweeping my blonde hair out of the way.

“All the women have these tiaras?” I asked.

Rue nodded. “Yes, each fashioned after their coat of arms. It shows your status and illustrates to the king which pack you represent. Four of you are ladies of your packs, and one competitor is a commoner.”

My mood, buoyed by the bath, soured again. Retorts sat sharp on my tongue: would a nametag be easier? Does he often forget the identities of the women he courts? But I was used to holding my tongue in my father’s court so I steeled my expression into neutrality. We were just wolves to him, weren’t we? This competition wasn’t about who I was as a person—it was about who I was as a lady and as a wolf.

A lady I could be. A wolf—not like him. Never like him.

“A commoner?” I asked instead. “How was she chosen?”

“Nightfall held a lottery for their representative,” Rue said. “All packs are to be represented in the King’s Choice, of course, but the king wanted to ensure the Choice was fair to all.”

That was an eloquent way of putting it—Rue was good at her job. Obviously, tradition said that all five packs had to participate, but this Choice was mostly to increase Frasian faith in the king. Having the king choose a bride from his own pack would certainly not do that. The council had made a good decision by instituting a lottery. It adhered to tradition, made it clear the king would not be choosing the Nightfall wolf, and would most likely provide a good show for the spectators in Efra. This Choice was well-planned. To the point that it almost made me a little nervous. “Ready?” Rue asked.

I nodded.

Then I gasped.

In the middle of my bedroom, Rue and Amity both shifted.

Their turn made the air crackle with magic, and in my chest, a wolf roused into wakefulness, as if she was slowly coming out of a long nap and shaking her fur out. Being near a shift always made my wolf curious—but it was easy to push that desire away.

Rue and Amity were both pups. They stood nearly hip-height to me, and they had the long legs and big paws of still-growing wolves. Both had warm brown coats, Rue’s a shade darker than Amity’s. They tipped their snouts up to me, ears flopping, before padding over to the door. Amity looked back at me expectantly, tail wagging. If they thought I was shifting, they had another thing coming. For one —I’d just gotten dressed!

It was then I realized their dresses and aprons were nowhere to be found.

The servant’s rings. Both of them had a thin silver loop around their front left paw. Was that the ring? Did that allow them to shift and stay in uniform?

It seemed like madness. Why waste the magic and the effort to allow the servants to shift? And why let them do so on manor grounds? Were wolves just shifting whenever they wanted to during court functions? I tried to keep my expression neutral as I stepped between the two pups to open the door.

Rue and Amity escorted me through the wide, dark halls of the manor. Their nails clicked on the stone, and they walked briskly, with ears pointed forward and eyes alert, as if looking for threats. Despite my own discomfort, my wolf was awake and preening at the attention.