“He what?” she thundered.
“He followed me out here and we noticed my dress was torn. He was just helping me, but then that repugnant man saw us and—”
“That man is the queen’s advisor. And he is a complete snake. Sir Gyldford knows not to be alone with a lady unaccompanied, especially the king’s daughter, andespeciallynot when her marriageability was just announced.” Vega scowled. “Guardians be, Elowyn, you still act like achild. First that ridiculous playing. Now this. I thought you wanted to earn your place at court—gain your father’s favor, secure your standing in society, andproveyou’re ready to take your rightful place at Highthorn. What were you thinking?”
“I, I …” But I had nothing to say. No explanation. I had failed. And worse, I never could have succeeded.
Chapter 4
Apillow thumped my face. “Get up, we’re going to pray in the chapel,” Vega said.
“What time is it?” I groaned through the angry throbbing in my temples from too much drink.
Vega quick stepped to the window and threw open the thick, black velvet curtains to gray, breaking morning.
“We must show the court you’re devoted to your prayers.” Devoted to my prayers? Since when? We didn’t even have a chapel at Granger House besides the small shrines Vega set up in the rose garden. When I was young, I’d kneel beside her. But mostly, I spent my time practicing the virginal, reading, or riding. Anything besides … praying.
Vega perched on my bed and placed a hand on my forehead. I struggled through soft mountains of down and quilts to meet her stare and embrace that cool hand, which eased my splitting headache.
“I know last night did not go as you planned. But I believe there is still hope for you to do as you set out to.”
Father’s announcement the night before rolled over me again, turning my stomach.
“What do I always tell you?” Vega asked with a quirked brow.
I sighed, burying my head in the blankets.
“Come on now,” Vega coaxed.
“There are two versions of oneself in this world. One the courtiers see and one that you are,” I said into the goose-feather mattress.
“Precisely. We must paint your picture for the court.”
She was right. Maybe I could make the most of the betrothal situation. Surely it would take time to find me a suitor. There could be other opportunities to win over the king. To form some sort of relationship with my father.
I sat up, swung my feet over the haven of my bed.
“You’re right. I am a noble lady. Witty, smart, well read, talented—”
“Buttame,” Vega added.
The word made me want to wretch at her feet. But we both knew it needed to at least appear to be the truth here.
“Yes, the type of lady who wakes up early and takes to her prayers. Isuppose,” I sighed.
Vega suggested we pray at the chapel nearest the royal quarters on the other side of the castle. After all, what was the point if no one important was there to witness my virtue? The royal wing was where I had hoped to stay instead of the Onyx Chambers where we remained, the rooms set aside for royal guests.
Vega dressed me in a plain wool frock that was deliciously warm against the cold that seeped into the castle walls. Together, hurriedly, we walked to our prayers.
Each window we passed gave us a glimpse into a blinding, white world. Guardian’s Watch sleeping in the distance, almost beautiful from such great heights. A hard snow had fallen through the night; a reminder to pray for the poor people in rags I had encountered on the carriage ridehere. The stench had been dreadful in the city but not as horrendous as the sight of bodies slumped in alleyways among the snow.
“Why are these people staying out in the cold? They should be inside to keep warm,” I had said to Vega in the carriage, a handkerchief drenched with too-sweet perfume pressed to my nose.
“They have no home, or if they do, it is not much warmer than outdoors,” Vega answered.
My heart cracked when I saw child-sized bodies.
“Why do they have no home?”
