“I missed you at the last-minute ball,” I say.
“I had a terrible headache. I’m sorry I couldn’t attend.” Her face falls, and her tone turns sympathetic, she grabs hold of my hand and gives it a squeeze. “And I’m so sorry about Marian.”
“I didn’t know her well, but nobody deserves to go like that.” I return the squeeze.
“I agree. It’s just awful,” she says. She drops my hand then bounces up to her toes. “I know what will make you feel better. How about dinner? Tonight?”
“Yes, I’d love that.”
“Bring one of your ladies. I’ll inform my maid that we need dinner for three”—she looks at Brevan—“or should that be four?”
“I’ll wait outside your rooms, no need to make a fuss over me,” he says.
“Nonsense. If you’re there anyway, you might as well join us.” She grabs my hands. “In fact, bring all your ladies. Let’s have a proper meal. It’ll be fun. I’m sure they could use it after their loss.”
“That’s very nice of you,” I say.
She bobs into a curtsy. “See you at seven, Your Highness.”
Juliette welcomes us to her rooms, and we all stop to marvel at the decorations the second we step through the door. I’m surprised that Brevan follows us. I thought for sure he’d insist on staying in the hall despite Juliette’s invitation.
My ladies dressed as if they were attending a ball and insisted I do the same. My gray gown with black lace trim matches the décor and doesn’t look like too much next to Juliette’s white and gray ballgown.
“Sabina.” Juliette curtsies, then turns to my ladies. “Ladies. Thank you for joining me tonight. Please come in.”
“Thank you for inviting us,” I reply as we enter her room.
Brevan bows to Juliette in an unusually formal way, then leaves the group. He’s probably checking the rooms for anything suspicious. My ladies follow next, all greeting Juliette like an old friend.
“I’m so glad all of you could come. Usually, my exile to the castle is dreadfully dull. It’s nice to have friends to spend time with,” Juliette chirps.
I look to see where Brevan has gone and I’m surprised to find him standing in the back of the room, his body tense, as he speaks to another man. He’s older, with gray hair that might have once been any color. His bright blue eyes make him stand out, though. Iskvalandian eyes. Like mine.
“Is that another friend?” I ask.
“Oh, yes! Nikolay, come here please, I want to introduce you,” Juliette calls.
The man strides over to us, a wide grin on his handsome face. “Well, well, Juliette, you didn’t warn me that I’d be surrounded by so much beauty this evening.”
The ladies giggle and Charlotte and Genevieve both turn pink. I offer a smile, but I’m not impressed by the flattery. There’s something about him that doesn’t feel right.
“Princess Sabina, ladies, I’d like you to meet my dear friend, Nikolay. He’s a former ambassador from Iskvaland, turned Pendralian. Perhaps you met when you were young, Your Highness?”
My blood runs cold.
“I never had the honor,” Nikolay says. “I haven’t been back to Iskvaland in more than twenty years.”
Tension eases from my shoulders. “What a surprising gift to meet someone from home,” I say, then quickly move farther into the room to avoid more conversation with him.
He bows, then rises. “It is an incredible honor to be in your presence, Princess. Though I may be more Pendralian than Iskvalandian now, please consider me your devoted servant.”
“That is very kind of you.” I incline my head.
A hand brushes against my back like the flutter of a butterfly’s wing. So brief I might have imagined it. I don’t need to turn to know Brevan is behind me. He must not trust this man, either.
“Everyone, please make your way to the dining chamber for dinner,” Juliette announces.
Candles and vases of black roses adorn every surface. Black lace is draped over the tables and furniture. It’s stunning and looks nothing like it did last time I was here.
