I raise my brows. “Do I smell that awful?”
Foxglove does his best to hide his distaste, but it isn’t working. “Humans do have rather…oddaromas that fae don’t have. Besides, you could use the relaxation of a bath after everything you’ve done for His Majesty.”
“Fine,” I say with a sigh. “Take me to the bath.”
He leads me to the garish parlor where I’d met with Doris Mason. Inside, I’m greeted by Lorelei and a steaming bathtub. Foxglove takes his leave and Lorelei helps me undress. She asks if I’d like privacy, but I make her stay with me. I’ve had enough alone time with my thoughts. Now I just need some company that isn’t an unconscious Aspen.
She perches at the edge of one of the horrid chairs while I soak in the tub. We chat about mindless matters, sharing a few shallow laughs, but my worries aren’t kept at bay for long. I need to tell someone about what I’ve learned. Perhaps I can trust Lorelei. Amelie seemed to.
“Aspen told me some things when he was awake,” I say, trying to keep my tone nonchalant. I toy with my rowan berry necklace, keeping it from soaking too long in the water.
“Like what?”
I take a deep breath. “About Amelie.”
She sits forward eagerly. “Does he know what happened to her?”
“No, but she might be alive.” I watch her face for any indication that she already knows.
Her brows furrow. “Alive? But the body—”
“It wasn’t Amelie’s. It belonged to a selkie woman who lost her sealskin.”
Lorelei is clearly perplexed. So she didn’t know after all. “A selkie woman doesn’t simply lose her skin. What happened to her? And what happened to Amelie?”
“He didn’t have answers to either. I’ve been puzzling over it ever since. Why didn’t he tell me? Why did he allow me and everyone else in the castle to believe Amelie died? Yet, he allowed the vicar to assume she’s still alive and well.”
Lorelei leaves the chair to crouch beside the tub, expression grave. She keeps her voice low. “Those questions are best saved for Aspen and asked in private. If he kept this information from us, it’s for a reason. Don’t tell anyone else.”
“Why? What reason could he have for hiding it? He could be sending guards out looking for my sister. Instead, everyone thinks she’s dead.”
“I’m sure his most trusted guards know,” Lorelei says. “There were many who witnessed the body they found. They will know the truth. He could have trackers seeking Amelie right now. If someone means him or her harm, it’s best our efforts to find Amelie are made with discretion.”
I nod. “Perhaps you’re right. I just hate not knowing what’s going on.”
“I’m sure the king feels the same.”
I chew my bottom lip. “He also told me about the Holstrom girls. He confessed to killing them, saying they came to assassinate him with a dagger. How do I know it’s true?”
She lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “Guards found a blade in his room. It was of human design and was traced back to your village smith.”
“But how do I know his account of things isn’t skewed? I know he can’t lie, but how do I trust his perspective is accurate?”
“You either trust him or you don’t. I can’t tell you how to feel. All I can say is I trust Aspen with my life.”
A feeble smile tugs at my lips. “Even though he punished you by appointing you my lady’s maid?”
“Meh,” she says. “I’ve had worse company.”
“Speaking of worse company.” I jump at Foxglove’s voice. He stands in the doorway looking flustered. He closes the door behind him, then lays out a sheer, spider silk dress in a deep plum color on top of the clothes Lorelei had brought. “We’re going to need to speed up our plans. Forget just getting you clean. We need to make you look like a queen.”
“What? Why?”
Foxglove gives me an apologetic smile and adjusts his spectacles. “It’s time to meet your future mother-in-law.”
* * *
I’m trembling by the time I’m dressed and ready to meet my guest, unsure what to expect. Foxglove has been cryptic at best, hushing every question with an admonition that I’ll ruin my makeup if I keep talking. He painted my lips with rouge, powdered my cheeks with crystalline dust, and lined my eyes with black and gold kohl. My hair has been brushed out in long waves, something he insisted on doing instead of his usual updo. My dress is so sheer, I blushed when I first saw myself in the mirror.
