57

Maybe that was a good reason for him to get rid of me. If the king was interested in me, perhaps it was easier for a war-hungry general to remove me from the equation.

We reached the doors to the manor. Fina and Adora were already waiting on the small patio that led out to the gardens, bundled in scarves and cloaks. Fina, as promised, had on a pair of fine white gloves of Adora’s. They both glanced up curiously when the door opened, and then nodded their heads in greeting at Cyran.

“Thank you for the escort, General,” I said.

“My pleasure,” Cyran said. He cast his eyes to the other two with interest. “Enjoy your stroll.”

16

T

he gardens were beautiful but bare in the winter cold. As soon as we began to walk, the clouds covered the sun, ridding us of the only respite we had from the freezing cold. I tugged my cloak tighter around my shoulders and tried to keep my teeth from chattering.

“Goodness,” I said. “I did think the sun would be out this afternoon.”

Fina looked up at the sky. As if on cue, fat flakes of snow began to drift down from the cloud that had just covered the sun.

Adora laughed. “It’s not that cold. Reyna, you may be the one who has to adjust to this.”

“Don’t remind me,” I grumbled. “I already miss the sunshine at Daybreak.”

Fina gave me a strange look. I swallowed. I was so comfortable with these two—it was like I had already told them my secret plan. But of course, I hadn’t. As far as they knew, I wanted the crown just as badly as Adora did.

In the cold air and the quiet privacy of the gardens, I found I wanted to tell them the truth. “I’m really going to miss this,” I said. The words fell off my tongue.

“As am I,” Adora said.

Fina’s expression fell. “Me, too,” she said quietly.

I knocked my shoulder against Fina’s. “It really means a lot to me that you both wanted to be friends,” I said. “I never…” Embarrassment heated my cold cheeks. “At home, I didn’t have any friends.”

“What?” Adora asked. “But you’re so charming!”

“I was too busy being a Lady of the Court at home to make friends,” I admitted. “There wasn’t anyone of my same age or standing… And those who weren’t in the court referred to me as the Ice Princess.”

“Because you look like a woman of Starcrest?” Adora asked.

“Or were you a bitch?” Fina asked with a cheeky grin.

“Fina!” I said, then broke into a laugh. “I guess I was a bitch. My father asked a lot of me, even though he never wanted me around. When I was growing up, I was always trying to be perfect to win his approval. By the time I was ready to be my own woman, my reputation as being cold was pretty much done. Griffin is the only one who ever treated me as a person in Daybreak.” “Griffin?” Fina asked.

I bit my lower lip gently. “My betrothed,” I said.

Adora gasped. “You have a fiancé? At home? And still you’re at the Choice?”

“It’s secret,” I admitted. “It’s not approved by my father. I never fit in at Daybreak—I never wanted to be a member of the court. I want to travel! And see the world! There’s so much more than the duties of the court! And Griffin will do that with me.” “You plan to leave?” Fina asked.

I nodded. “My father insisted I attend the Choice—it wasn’t like there was anyone else in the court who could represent our pack well. But I thought it might be the perfect way for me to get out of my duties.”

“How in the gods’ names would that work?” Adora asked. She was listening with a pinched expression somewhere between disbelief and abject horror.

“I’d planned on performing adequately in the Choice, to uphold my pack’s honor, but to be boring enough that I would be eliminated,” I admitted. “But everything I’ve tried to do to get dismissed seems to have backfired.”

“The king’s had his eye on you since the first day,” Fina said. “You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

“She’s right,” Adora said. “His eyes always find you.” She sighed and pushed a stray lock of blonde hair off her forehead, then gazed in the direction of the manor. “I admit I’m hoping the council will overrule him.”

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “I don’t know what to do.”

“There’s nothing we can do, at this point,” Adora said. “Whoever is chosen will be chosen. I believe I’ve done the best I could to represent my pack.”

“I think you have too, Adora,” I said. “I think you’ll make a marvelous queen.”

Fina blew a raspberry. “I think I’d be the best queen, actually.”

We both laughed, and then strolled with Fina in between us. “You’re right, honestly,” I said.

“Regardless,” Fina said, “my father will be pleased that I’ve established a good relationship with the new queen. We’ve got all sorts of great ideas to share with you about cultivating a more sustainable farming practice across the nation.”

We made our way back toward the manor. I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, now that my friends knew my intentions with this competition. I hated the thought that I had progressed further than Fina, who wanted it just as badly as Adora, but they were right. We had no say in the matter. Even they had noticed the way the king watched me—if they knew the time the king and I had already spent together, that’d be even more embarrassing.

My relaxed mood dissipated as soon as we approached the doors to the manor, where the duchess was waiting for us. She cut an imposing figure in a fine, heavy gown and a dark cloak with a high collar. Her brow was furrowed and lips downturned as she gazed down the bridge of her nose at us.

“Ladies,” she said in cool greeting.

Fina swallowed, then swept into a brisk curtsy and hurried away.