I nod.
Suri flashes a look to Ferra that fills me with a wrinkle of jealousy. Their close friendship is clear in their shared looks; the sentences they finish for one another. They’ve had months to become friends here. If Rian hadn’t sold me out, and Immortal Iyre hadn’t kidnapped me, then maybe I’d be laughing right along with them.
Now, I feel a step apart. Left behind.
And sad that the closest female friend I made in Volkany was a sweet, silly goldenclaw that died from Rian’s poisoned river.
“Oh no,” Suri says in a rush, toying anxiously with a thin gold chain around her neck. “Nothing like wedding bells. Lord Kendan is an esteemed colleague, nothing more.”
Ferra clears her throat pointedly, and Suri puffs out an air of defeat before admitting, “Okay, maybe there was some initial attraction. He’s a handsome man—he’s a Valvere, after all. That family’s morals might be bankrupt, but they’re rich in looks.” She sighs. “Kendan isn’t like the rest of his family. He’s honorable to a fault. There was…a fumble or two in a coat closet. I just couldn’t force myself to be excited about the prospect. I find his respectability, well, dull. Is that wrong? I thought that’s what I wanted after Charlin. Someone upstanding and consistent. But then I came here and met…other people…and realized I need a little spice in my life.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Who is ‘other people’?”
Her walnut cheeks pinken to a sunset sheen. She suddenly becomes very dedicated to tearing rose petals to throw in the warming bath water, shredding them to within an inch of their lives.
“Suri?” I draw out her name like a scolding mother. “Who is it?”
I glance at Ferra, who makes the gesture of sewing her lips shut, but gives a pointed look toward her makeup stand, where a blue-ink stick of kohl rests.
“Oh, gods, you don’t meanRian?” I blurt out in horror.
“Ofcoursenotthatscrazy!” Suri vomits the phrase as though she’s had it ready on her tongue, waiting for this accusation.
I lean back, stunned.
ItwasRian.
“I’m…going to need a minute.” I sink into the dressmaker’s chair and pinch the bridge of my nose.
Suri flounces down at my knees, fretting with her dress sleeves as though she could tug them so far over her hands she’d disappear. Ferra quietly moves to unhook my bathwater and pour it into a large ceramic bowl.
“I’m not interested in Rian!” Suri vows, her face twisted up. “He’s odious. In fact, he’s the most odious man I’ve ever come across. That dreadful sense of humor. The ridiculous swipe of blue eyeliner. I’d sooner swoon over a goat!”
I blink, still struggling to catch up with everything that’s happened in the last few minutes. There’s such a thing as protesting too much…but Suri at leastseemsto believe her own words.
But her pink cheeks say differently.
“The men think he’s halfway to Duren,” Ferra says, deftly shifting the conversation as she dips a clean rag into the rose-scented water. “But Suri and I suspect he’s closer. Still somewhere in Old Coros, hiding out.”
I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “Why?”
“There’s nothing left for Rian in Duren,” Ferra explains. “His father is dead. His cousin, Lady Runa, barely keeps Sorsha Hall running. Besides, some of the chambermaids overheard Rian telling some drinking buddy that now that he’s got a toe in the capital, they’d have to tear him out.” She leans in, giving the bathwater a stir. “I’ve quietly put out word throughout the city’s brothels. Knowing him, if he is still in the city, it’ll only be a matter of time before he dips into one. One of our informants will spot him.”
She hands me the damp cloth, and I run it mechanically over my body, wiping away days of travel grime. I hope they don’t see how my hands are shaking. The idea that Rian could be somewhere close sparks off too many things at once.
“Here,” Ferra says, lifting the lid off a wooden box. “I think you’ll find this more suitable attire for a future queen.”
With reverence, she lifts out a delicate mauve gown. It has puffed sleeves at the shoulder, which cinch at the bicep and then tighten down to the wrist. The plunging neckline and side-lacing corset are embroidered with fae knots, and a long, golden,woven belt loops around the waist and plunges to the floor. The style is from another era. Not at all the modern rage.
I stare because it feels somehow familiar. As though, a thousand years ago, I wore dresses like this.
“It’s beautiful,” I say, quickly hiding my shock with practiced awe. “Too beautiful for a simple Tuesday. I’ll save it for the coronation.”
Ferra preens, plucking off a small fleck of dust on the neckline. “Nonsense. Of course you should look god-like every day of the week.”
I flinch.Too close to the truth.
A bell chimes outside, and Ferra curses and gathers up the dress. “Quickly, now. We have something else to show you before they begin serving supper in the great hall, and everyone loses their minds. War breeds hunger, you know.”
