“Of course.” He inclines his head. “We must save some for the wedding. That’s when you must truly shine.”
I smile. There is no way I’ll still be here by the time the wedding takes place.
“Is there anything else you desire?” he asks. “Can I make you earrings to match?”
“You should,” Brevan says. “I think she’s trying to be modest. But we both know the prince will be insulted if she doesn’t get something larger.”
“How about a set then? I’ll create something beautiful and one of a kind. Something worthy of our stunning new empress-to-be.”
“Thank you,” I manage.
“Of course. Please tell the prince I am ever grateful for his patronage.” The old man bows.
I stand. “I’d like to return. I’m still recovering from my journey.”
The men walk me to the door, then Brevan helps me into the carriage. I feel sick as we ride back to the castle. I knew the wealthy had it better than everyone else, but I’d never seen it up close before. It was like an entirely different world. And none of them ever had to leave their part of the city. They didn’t even know what it was like for everyone else. If they saw it, would it change anything? Would they even care? No wonder theyallowed the emperor to continue with his raids and destruction. They had everything their hearts could ever desire.
“Did you grow up around here?” I ask Brevan.
“No.”
“I thought all the emperor’s legionnaires were from the noble families,” I reply.
“Most of them are,” he agrees.
“So you grew up a commoner?”
“I did, but not in Pendralia,” he says.
Fear courses through my veins. Is that how he knows so much about Iskvaland? Is he Iskvalandian? If so, it is a matter of time before I say something that gives me away. I choose my next words very carefully. “Are you from my kingdom?”
“No. But it doesn’t matter where I’m from. I was rescued by a Pendralian naval ship after the ship I was on was attacked. From that day on, I was Pendralian.”
“I see. How old were you?”
“Eleven,” he says.
I turn to the window while I blink away the threatening tears. I know what it’s like to lose your family. And the people who saved his life destroyed mine.
Seven
My rooms arequiet when I crack open the door, though all the ladies are present. Two of them are reading on the window seat, three are doing embroidery on the couches near the fireplace, and a pair have pulled a second chair to my writing desk and are playing cards. Marian is in the corner speaking to a woman I don’t know.
As soon as I widen the gap enough to step inside, the women jump to their feet and drop into low curtsies. It’s the most formal greeting I’ve seen from them, and it makes me take a step back.
“Your Highness.” Marian rises from her curtsy, then walks toward me, the other woman following behind her.
The newcomer didn’t curtsy, and though all the gowns on my ladies are elegant, she’s dripping in pearls and sparkling diamonds. I probably am supposed to bow to her.
“Princess Sabina, this is Duchess Drathmore. She’s the late empress’s mother.”
I incline my head, completely unsure of what I’m supposed to do. In my brief overview about being a royal, I was told to act the part and make sure I curtsy to the emperor. That’s about asmuch as I know, and I’m realizing it is not enough if I want to keep this charade going. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” she says as she moves closer to me. “They were right. You are quite beautiful. You and the prince will have gorgeous children. My daughter would have been pleased. She always wanted to be a grandmother.”
The whole conversation is odd considering this woman, the prince’s grandmother, doesn’t look like she’s much older than Marian. The emperor is said to be immortal, but when his wife of over a century died, it gave the rebellion hope. If he couldn’t keep his bride alive, surely it means the magic isn’t infallible.
But if that is the case, how does this woman appear so young? Was she even older than the emperor? Were all the nobles immortal?
