Nyssa nodded.
"They needyou, and they're terrified of you learning it. Every man in our kingdom wants you to think you need them. Because the reality is, they need you to think it so they can use you to climb their own way to the top. They are scared that if you learn you don't need them, you'll only use them as toys, and they'll never get any further than a source of pleasure for you."
"Like all the men in your bed?" Nyssa asked.
Aydra's smirk widened. "Exactly like the ones in my bed," she toyed. "You're not someone's ladder, Nyssa. You are the prize at the top. Any man deserving of you will take their place at your side as your equal, with respect and trust. They'll stand by you as you rise to take your own crown. Not try to squash you beneath them." She spun Nyssa around and pulled her back, chin rising high as she spoke her next words.
"You'll never need a man to gift you the world, sister. You'll take it on your own."
The confident smile Aydra gave her made her chest swell. "Play the game?" Nyssa asked.
Aydra laughed. "As dear Rhaifian says: make them crawl," she winked.
—The Noble tugged on Nyssa's arm.
A dimly lit hall greeted them. There were no paintings on the walls or rugs along the corridors. Just the stark quiet and chill hanging in the still air. A Porter walked in front of them and led them down to the next set of great doors, and Nyssa knew without them being open that this was the Throne Room.
Her stomach knotted as the doors opened.
Great stone pillars lined the room. The large arched windows on either side were still missing their windows. There were steps at the back of the room, a grand white throne in the middle, surrounded by two smaller ones behind.
The noise of boots clapping quickly on the floor caught her ears, and she looked past the chairs to see three women coming down from the stairs in the corner behind. The taller woman in front reminded her of Shae, yet older. This woman held her chin high, and her back as stiff as Nyssa always made hers.
Bechmen released Nyssa's arm and gave the woman a bow upon their approach.
"Lady Etta," the Noble addressed her, to which the woman gave him her own short nod. "I did not realize you were here personally."
Pale brows lifted on Etta's face, lips pursed as Bechmen straightened. "And trusted these girls to make sure things are in order for my Prince? You know better, Bech. I am told you secured the coast first, even found the Princess of this land to bring my boy..." Etta stilled, stretching over Nyssa.
Nyssa kept her head down, staring at the woman only through the light black fabric of the oversized cloak shielded down to her nose.
"Yes, my Lady," Bechmen said.
Etta stared at him expectantly. "Well? Let's see her."
Bechmen stepped between Nyssa and Etta, and Nyssa noted the deep breath he took as he pushed her hood back.
Nyssa pushed her breath out as she lifted her eyes. The two other women gasped, and Etta stepped back, her eyes wide.
"Her hair—“
"I thought it would entice Prince Ryne," the Noble declared. "Lady Etta, this is Ari Storn," he introduced. "Princess of Haerland."
Etta took a hesitant step towards Nyssa, and she reached out, taking Nyssa's hair between her fingers. Nyssa hugged her pained arm at her waist, staring past Etta's shoulder as the woman began to circle her.
She was growing tired of being inspected like livestock.
Etta moved Nyssa's arms and her hair, noting every inch of her. When she came around to Nyssa's front again, Nyssa felt her eyes on her face, and her gaze squinted at Nyssa's cheeks.
"What are these spots?" Etta asked. "I am unsure the Prince will want his children to come out with such things on their faces."
Nyssa almost snorted. But she kept her composure.
"I am sure the Prince's heritage will surpass the girl's," Bechmen replied. "Their children will merge the lands. Come out strong with dark hair and olive skin as he has."
Nyssa couldn't help the confusion on her face.
Etta considered Nyssa another moment. "What happened here?" she asked, pointing to the scratch.
