“Popping doesn’t hurt,” Lexi said. “It’s just an annoying habit. Mammaw hated it.”
“I canna say as I blame her,” the modiste said with a haughty sniff. She motioned for her seamstresses. “Since her ladyship wishes to dress as though the Fae tiger is a matching accessory, fetch me the gold silk. Few can wear it, but with her coloring, it is my hope that she can.” With her gleaming tape measure dangling around her neck and her glittering spectacles with the half-moon lenses slid to the tip of her sharp nose, she impatiently tapped the toes of her shoes together. “And the gold satin, as well. It has a darker sheen to it. We must ensure that it does not wash her out. And tell the jewelers to fashion accessories of the finest jet and onyx. A waterfall necklace, perhaps. The black beads will set off the gold and match her tiger’s stripes.”
Lexi tried not to release another heavy sigh. Madame Rosila and her seamstresses were only doing as they had been commanded. She dreaded this meeting with a passion because everything she had witnessed, everything she had heard, said the Fae valued perfection and beauty above all else. Perfect and beautiful, she was not. She didn’t think of herself asuglybecause of her scars, but she possessed what she considered a realistic opinion of her looks. She had good points and bad—just like anyone else. “Rill?”
“Aye, my lady?”
“How likely is it for the king and queen to accept me? Despite my scars.” Forewarned was forearmed, and by golly, she wanted to be forearmed.
The maid stared at her with an expression that could only be described as tortured. Jeros had said the Fae Serving Clan could never lie to those they served. It wasn’t in their DNA.
“I need to know, Rill.” Lexi noticed the modiste and seamstresses had quietly drifted off to one side and busied themselves in another part of the room.
Rill clutched her hands to her waist and kept her gaze lowered. “It is unlikely the queen will ever accept ye, my lady. I am unsure how His Majesty, the King, will react.”
“And their courtiers? How will they react?” Lexi braced herself because the poor maid looked as though she were about to faint dead away.
“It is of the utmost importance for yer gowns to exemplify the verra best of yer lovely figure. Madame Rosila will see to it. That is why an entire royal wardrobe must be prepared.”
“That is not what I asked.” Lexi hated to put the maid on the spot, but she needed to know. “I have a fair idea, but I need to know if what I am expecting is realistic.”
“What are ye expecting, my lady?” Rill asked quietly.
“I expect them to either spit on me and kick me out or hide their eyes and run.” Lexi huffed a sad laugh. “They won’t understand that my scars symbolize strength and survival. They won’t think about what I went through to get them.”
Rill knelt and bowed her head, as did Madame Rosila and her workers. “We understand, my lady, and we are proud to serve ye.”
“In our eyes,” the modiste said, “ye are a rare beauty who has taught us much since yer arrival.” She bowed her head lower. “And we thank ye for the lesson.”
Their alliance helped Lexi feel a little more courageous than before. But that didn’t change the fact that the outlook for this royal visit was dismal.
* * *
“Yer personal guard is ready,”Commander Darkcord said, “and I shall personally follow yerself and our lady at the presentation. I dinna trust those bastards.”
With his hands clasped at the small of his back, Jeros stared out the span of windows that was the only wall in the library not covered in shelves of books. “I thank ye, old friend. I dinna expect this to go well at all. If they dinna banish me for binding with the love the prophecy foretold, even though they consider her disfigured, I may have to consider abdication.” He turned and locked eyes with Darkcord. “And ye ken what that means.”
“Sevenrest will become an island unto itself within the Seventh Realm.” The commander resettled his stance and threw out his chest. “And I shall be the Kingdom of Sevenrest’s first commander.”
Grateful for his friend’s loyalty, Jeros accepted the priceless gift with a regal nod. “I harbor no hope whatsoever of Lexi winning over the queen, but with my father…”
Darkcord made a face and twisted as if trying to ease a cramp in his muscular neck. “The king stands against Her Majesty up to a point, but he knows well enough the power her courtiers possess. Some say he fears them, fears they would turn the rest of the Realm against him and side with the Fifth Kingdom’s demands for a new ruler.”
Jeros snorted. “Her courtiers would not be any happier with me. I have never pleased them. ’Tis my guess they would choose either Warlen or Ganan. Either of my brothers would make a suitable puppet for her courtiers to control.”
“Due to the unrest, the Realm is poised for war not only against the Fifth Kingdom but Sevenrest as well.” Darkcord smiled proudly. “New recruits come every day, ready to vow their fealty to ye as soon as we vet them. I’ll stomach no spies in our ranks.”
“I dinna relish war.” Jeros slowly shook his head as he turned back to the wall of windows, remembering Lexi’s comments about how battles helped no one. “But I will not allow Sevenrest or my consort to be ruined—by anyone.”
“Word has it ye rejected the suggestion of a glamour to calm the situation?” Darkcord lifted both hands to fend off any ire. “I am not saying ye should reconsider, but did ye offer it to our lady?”
“I did not offer it to her.” The very idea of telling Lexi he wanted to hide her scars left a foul taste in Jeros’s mouth. “Her scars are part of her identity, part of her strength, anyone who canna see that does not deserve to be allowed in her presence.”
“Aye, but that was yerself once. Ye ken how the Fae are, how they have always been.”
“Yet I changed for the better,” Jeros growled. How dare Darkcord remind him of the past behavior that still shamed him. “Not only would such a suggestion hurt her, but the king and queen would see through any glamour placed upon her.”
A solid thump against the door made them both turn that way.
