“Oh, never mind! What good is it to say yes, anyway?” I asked her. “I’m betrothed to the Prince, and the Prince is… nice. I like nice.”
She nodded. “Alright. Then, I will admit that I speak to Ser Willoughby as much as I do anyone back home. Though I mustdefend him somehow, he is not as ill-witted as you have labeled him. He’s actually very smart.”
“That feels suspect,” I said.
Josie moved to the gown. “Have you ever spoken to him?”
“He’s my cousin. I speak to him daily.”
“Like as a person?” she asked. “Or as a servant?”
“I–” I stopped. “Ser Willoughby is a knight, not a servant, and I speak to him as I do anyone else, royalty, duke, lady, or servant.”
“If that’s the truth, why must you categorize us?” she asked.
I didn’t know.
She smoothed the skirt, commenting on the design.
“Itissort of aridiculouspattern, though, isn’t it?” I asked.
“Do not let Lord Evergreen’s poor taste affect your confidence, miss.”
“Cyrus,” The correction left my mouth before I knew it.
“Cyrus?”she parroted. “One fight in the hallway, and now we’re on a first-name basis?”
“No!” I hurried. “No, I wasmistakenbefore of his title. He’s not a lord at all. That’s what I meant. And why do you think that I care whatMr. Evergreen, Not-A-Lord thinks of my dress anyway? I don’t! No, I do not. That’s for sure.”
“Clearly,” she said.
I struggled to loosen the ties of my blouse and had to work even harder to slink out of it and into a better-suited shift for the night.
“He is brash and rude, really,” I continued. “Though hedoesdress remarkably well.” My brows dropped, looking at the filigree even closer. “Do you think he’s right? About the details?”
Josie mused on some thought.
“What?”I pressed.
“Mr. Evergreensaid it was beautiful,” she said. “Remember? When he’d actually seen it for what it was.”
“Well. I don’t care either way,” I lied.
“He also said you would be the fairest face for miles,” she reminded me.
“Oh, what doesheknow?” I argued.
She sat against the vanity and waited for me to pick up some implication I didn’t get.
“What?” I asked.
“I just think a man like Mr. Evergreenknowsa beautiful woman when he sees her,” she said. “I would take his word over your insecurity.”
“A man like Mr. Evergreen? What kind of man is that?”
She waited. “Seriously?” she asked. “A… A flirt, Miss Svana. A rake.”
“Mr. Evergreen’s arake?”I asked. “Oh, my god! He was in my room!”
