“Oh, no, ma’am. Not at all. Please, don’t think that. It’s just that—well, I know I made my way from the Orchards to here on my own, but contrary to what you believe, that was desperation, not bravery. I’m really a big coward. Especially when it comes to going places and doing things without someone I know as company. I had plenty of time before we started making the costumes to go out and meet the folk around here, but I didn’t. It was easier—more comfortable—to keep to myself.”
Gabriella hadn’t gauged Lily to be a shy wallflower. Probably because the girl was so good at helping out and getting things done. And because she was so good with the children—decisive and authoritative while remaining kind and approachable.
Now, Gabriella felt guilty for not paying more attention. She’d been so preoccupied with her own concerns that she’d been completely blind to Lily’s. That wasn’t like her, and she hated that she’d been so self-absorbed, but this, at least, was an oversight she could rectify. Summer was no stranger to shy wallflowers. Entertaining them, drawing them out of their shells, helping them meet and make friends had, in fact, always been one of her most common roles. (Cozying up to cretins being her other most common role.) Even if Gabriella couldn’t stay in Konumarr long enough to see Lily’s future settled, she could at least see to it that Lily got out of the schoolhouse, met some Calbernans, and made friends who would not let her hide away.
And she could start by seeing that Lily got out of the schoolhouse and had a little fun tonight.
“I think dancing in the plazas is just what you need,” Gabriella said. “To be honest, I was hoping to go with you and do a little dancing myself.” The sudden flare of hope that lit Lily’s eyes made Gabriella feel even guiltier for not seeing how lonely she was before now.
Then Lily’s brief spurt of hope faded. “You? A fine lady? Dancing in the plazas?” Lily shook her head. “Oh, I don’t think so. That wouldn’t be right.” Like most Summerlanders, Lily had been raised with a very definite idea of social classes and who belonged where. It was one of Gabriella’s least favorite aspects of her homeland. Here in Wintercraig, there were still nobles and peasants, but surviving in the harsh climate made them much more codependent, frequently blurring the lines between social classes, or erasing them altogether.
“I wasn’t planning to go as a fine lady,” Gabriella said, thinking fast. “You and I are close to the same size. I was hoping you could loan me a dress to wear, and maybe one of your scarves.”
“I—are you sure?”
“Completely,” Gabriella said. Actually, the more she thought about it, the better the idea sounded. One of the calming techniques her mother had taught Gabriella was to get away from whatever was upsetting her and distract herself with something fun and lighthearted whenever she felt herself getting too wound up. Gods knew, she’d been wound tighter than a coiled spring since the Calbernans had come. Dancing—a pastime she’d always enjoyed—would probably do her worlds of good. And since neither Calberna’s prince nor her sisters were likely to join the common folk for tonight’s festivities, accompanying Lily to the party in the plazas was probably one of the safest places she could be tonight.
Lily bit her lip. “Well, I’ve got the dress my mother made. It would suit you, I think. It’s my best.”
“Oh, no, I can’t wear your best dress. You should wear it.”
“Can’t.” Lily gave a rueful smile and patted her thickening waist. “It doesn’t fit me anymore.”
“Ah. Then, of course, I’d be honored to wear the dress your mother made you.”
Chapter 8
Lily’s mother’s dress needed only a few minor alterations to fit Gabriella. Since a princess could hardly disappear for an entire evening without raising the alarm, Summer left Lily to make the alternations and returned to the palace to establish her alibi for the night. After a small dinner with the family, she announced that she wasn’t feeling well and headed for her rooms, dismissing Amaryllis with instructions that she should not be disturbed. After that, sneaking out of the palace was a simple matter of using the side doors and whispering a few words of Persuasion to make the guards look the other way as she passed by.
An hour later, wearing a very pretty lilac dress with full, lightweight sleeves and a ruffled hem, Gabriella exited the school with Lily by her side. Lily had changed into a high-waisted yellow gown that provided a stunning contrast to her dark hair, skin, and eyes. Both of them wore clean white linen scarves that covered their heads and tied at the back of their necks beneath the long, loose flow of black hair. They looked like two country girls from Summerlea on their way to a local dance.
“We could be sisters,” Summer said as they made their way down towards one of the city’s many large plazas. She and Lily had the same build. Their hair was the same color and length. Lily’s skin was darker, but unless the pair of them stood side by side, it wasn’t that obvious.
“Yes, I suppose so, Your Highness.”
Gabriella stopped in her tracks, grasping Lily’s arm. “No. None of that ‘Your Highness’ stuff. Tonight, I’m not a princess or a Season or a noble lady. You must call me Gabriella.”
“I—I couldn’t.”
“Of course, you can. Try it. Gabriella.”
“Gabriella,” Lily whispered, then she clapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide and horrified.
Summer made a show of looking around and up at the sky. Then she grinned. “There. You see? And you didn’t get struck by lightning!”
After a shocked moment, Lily giggled.
“Say it again,” Summer told her.
With a little more confidence, Lily did. “Gabriella.”
“Excellent.” She looped her arm though Lily’s. “And since we look so alike, if anyone asks, I think you should say I’m your sister. Would that be all right with you?”
“I—if that’s what you wish, Your... er... Gabriella.”
“It is.”
Together, arm in arm, the two of them strolled down the stone side street and out onto the main thoroughfare. The sun was still shining brightly, though the plaza clock chimed nine o’clock in the evening as they approached. A band of drummers, fiddlers, and pipers were assembled on the balcony of one of the plaza buildings, playing a merry tune while scores of Calbernans and brightly garbed laughing women spun about the square.
