Lewis exhaled through his nose. “I do actually have a job and work I have to keep up with.” He flicked a glance toward her, raising an eyebrow. “Besides, you should get some rest. We talk to the King tomorrow.”
Vivienne groaned, dropping her head onto the table with a soft thud. Lewis chuckled, already stepping back toward the door.
She lifted her head just enough to glare at him. “I’m adding ‘Lewis Blume abandoning me’ to my growing list of problems.”
“I’m honored,” he called over his shoulder as he headed for the exit.
Vivienne watched him go, the lightness in their banter already fading. Her fingers curled against the wooden table. She didn’t know why she had asked the relationship question in the first place. But now, she wasn’t sure she liked the answer.
5
Vivienne stood in front of the mirror in her small bedroom, smoothing her palms over the fabric of her gown. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d spent this much effort getting ready. The morning had been a flurry of movement: boiling water for a bath, making endless trips between the stone hearth and the washroom, scrubbing away every trace of exhaustion with honey-lavender soap.
Her long red hair was swept into a bun at the crown of her head, held in place by a dozen stubborn hairpins and mumbled prayers. Dressing had been another ordeal, layers upon layers, more than even Johanna’s pastries could boast.
She gave the mirror a bright smile, but the reflection almost startled her. Though the mirror’s faint patina softened the image, she barely recognized this elevated version of herself. Vivienne loved dressing up, but didn’t often have an occasion that merited the effort.
Her hands traced over the bodice, feeling the taut resistance of the drawn laces. The deep navy fabric hugged her frame, cinching at the waist before cascading into full, heavy folds that swayed with the slightest movement. An intricate lace overlay caught the light, its delicate patterns casting shadows over the skirt. The long sleeves, puffed slightly at the shoulders, tapered elegantly to her wrists.
Her gaze dropped to her boots, their pearl buttons gleaming in the sunlight. The soft leather hugged her calves snugly before flaring just below her knees. She had saved them for something special. Today was the first time she had worn them.
“A few final touches,” she murmured to her reflection.
From her dressing table, she picked up a delicate ivory hair comb, a gift from her mother. Her fingers brushed over the tiny seashells and pearls, the smooth surface warmed by years of familiarity. Each piece had been set with care, designed to shimmer subtly as it caught the light. She tucked the comb into the left side of her hair, adjusting until it felt right.
She reached for her silver mirrored compact, her thumb instinctively running over the engraved hummingbird on its surface. She slid it into one of the deep pockets hidden in the folds of her dress. Finally, she uncorked a small glass vial, tilting it just enough for a few precious drops of jasmine and rose perfume oil to kiss the pulse points at her wrists and neck. The scent unfurled, rich and floral, mingling with the faint trace of lavender still lingering from her bath.
She paused in the narrow hallway, her eyes landing on the closed door to Briar’s bedroom. Her stomach twisted.How am I supposed to tell Briar our parents are missing and presumed dead?
Her breath felt too tight as she descended the stairs, the wooden boards creaking softly beneath her steps. In the central room, her eyes flicked to the small clock above the hearth. Half past twelve.Lewis will be here any minute.
She crossed to the dining table, fingers closing around the parchment scroll with the Chancellor’s instructions. The paper was smooth, well-handled. She had read it so many times she could almost recite it word for word, yet she still worried she had missed something. She unrolled it once more, scanning the script. Her fingers clutching the edges.
A familiar knock echoed through the door. Lewis' knock. The same pattern he’d used for years. Vivienne tucked the parchment into the hidden pocket of her dress, smoothing the fabric as she crossed the room and pulled open the door.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Lewis’ mouth fell open, his eyes flickering from her hair, to the deep navy folds of her gown, then back up again. Vivienne wasn’t sure who looked more shocked, him or her. It wasn’t often she left Lewis Blume speechless.
Her own gaze swept over him. He wore a deep green waistcoat, embroidered with intricate gold-threaded vines curling along the fabric. Beneath it, a crisp white linen shirt peeked out at the collar. His dark brown trousers—well-tailored, she noted with mild surprise—tucked smoothly into polished leather boots. He smelled of cedar and vanilla, blending with his usual earthy scent, clean and warm, the aroma lingering in the air between them.
But it was his hair that caught her attention. For once, it looked like it had been introduced to a comb. Vivienne’s lips parted slightly. In this moment, he wasn’t just Lewis, her childhood friend, the boy who threw pebbles at her window and teased her endlessly. He was a man.A handsome man, she admitted to herself.
Her brows lifted, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. “Looks like someone has big plans today.”
A mischievous grin spread across his face, his eyes twinkling. “Ah, nothing big today. Just thought I’d go for a stroll. Care to join me?”
Vivienne feigned disappointment, turning the key in the lock behind her. “Oh, I would, but I have a casual conversation scheduled with our dear friend, the King.”
They started the climb toward Eirenden Keep, the city unfolding beneath them as they walked.
“How is Berry doing these days?”
Vivienne scoffed. “You call King Berius Algernon, the monarch of the Kingdom of Fendwyr,Berry?”
Lewis donned a smug expression. “Don’t be jealous that he and I are on close enough terms for nicknames.”
She arched an eyebrow. “I think giving your King a nickname—especially a terrible one—might be treason.”
