The maid raised a brow in question.
“Never again. The nobility bring nothing but scheming and dramatics. Don’t you agree?”
Aylin eyed her pointedly. She wouldn’t be answering that. Instead, she pulled her needle through the silk kerchief she was working on and asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”
How the woman embroidered while jostling about in a carriage was beyond Hevva’s comprehension.
“No,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. The show of petulance did little to help her mood. An anxious bubble took up residence in her throat, unmoving, pulsing in time with her heart.
Return home.
Find a nice common boy.
Aylin knew all about Saka & Berim at the symposium, including the lighter elements of their meeting in the salon during the closing gala. But her maid had only been privy to the most basic details of the first unfortunate night in Serkath, when Hevva got foxed and made a fool of herself. For some reason, she hadn’t wanted to tell her maid anything more about the king, which was abnormal, to be sure. For a while there it felt...fragile, something to keep tucked away for herself. Now, however, she was ready to talk—needed to. So Hevva filled Aylin in on the rest of that particular evening in the wine cellar, including her embarrassing confession regarding missing Berim.
“Hmm, I see.” Aylin nodded thoughtfully.
“What?”
“Nothing. Please . . . What happened next?”
Aylin didn’t know about the re-creation of Rohilavol, or the impromptu proposal, so Hevva gave her the details. Well,mostof them. She left out the finer points from the bedroom, focusing on the conversation more than anything else.
“Lady Hevva, truly?”
She blinked slowly into Aylin’s dark eyes.
“Humor me a moment.” Aylin set her needlework aside and leaned forward on her knees. The motion was a sure sign she’d entered friendship-territory, taking off her metaphorical maid’s cap. “The king hosted a house party to find a wife, under the guise of celebrating his brother’s birthday. He invited you—”
“And many other eligible women.”
Aylin gave her a flat look before continuing, “Then, on thefirstnight of celebrations, he abandoned the party to seek you out, hunted for you in his own palace, aided you in a time of need—”
“That’s a very nice way of putting it.”
“You’re quite welcome. Then, you’re telling me the next night, he surprised you with an entire magical street, and he offered a proposal of marriage, all without once saying he loves you?”
Hevva frowned and shook her head. “He doesn’t love me.” A tear leaked down her cheek. “He said that love causes nothing but trouble in marriages!”
“But he proposed?! What does he think a marriage is?Solelypolitical?”
“I don’t know!” Hevva tossed her hands in the air, then smacked her knees in frustration. “It is more complicated than that now. This was all before I learned the depths of their great-uncle’s scheming. And, oh! I detest this!”
“I’m sorry, Hevva. It sounds to me he’s stuck between a bit of a rock and a hard place.”
“Unlike me”—Hevva sighed sarcastically—“right?”
Her maid smiled. Then she leaned forward and squeezed the countess’s knee. “All will be well in time, my dear. Now tell me...what happened next?”
Theypulled into aninn, not long after dark, for their final night on the road. The summer eve was still and heavy and spoke of a storm to come.
“I cannot wait to get home tomorrow. Don’t you agree, my lady?” Aylin inquired as they alighted.
“Mm, sure,” Hevva replied listlessly.
Aylin handled checking the pair into their room, and they ascended the stairs. The lady was coaxed into a fresh bath and left to scrub herself clean. Hevva never wanted or needed the assistance, though it wasn’t unheard of for a noble to be next to incapable in the washroom—maybe they preferred being rubbed down by others. Who was to say?
The bath offered no distraction from her spiraling thoughts. As the water swirled down the drain, Hevva wished she could make herself small and be whisked away through the plumbing.
