I rushed to do as told, not wanting to anger her. Last night, I’d told Harthon that he could be scary in battle. I didn’t know if he held a candle to a determined Felda. I had no doubt the woman would drag me by my hair if I didn’t move quickly enough.
“Now sit.”
I scrambled to a chair. A second later, a comb ripped through my strands. I wanted to ask Frannie to do it instead, but something told me that would only spark Felda’s wrath.
“Frannie,” she barked, and the girl scurried over. “Braid that side. We’ll bring both sides into a bun.” Then my hair was being tugged, Felda’s fingers ruthless as she grumbled, “Let her sleep, they said. Then have her ready for presentation in twenty minutes. Put Felda’s neck on the line because the lady needs her beauty rest.”
It was as if she didn’t know about what happened last night. Considering my attackers were dead and only Harthon and North had entered the kitchen, that was a real possibility. Though even if Felda had known what occurred, she probably wouldn’t treat me any differently.
I didn’t make a peep, even as she yanked on the two braids, spiraled them together, and jabbed my scalp with pins.
Frannie circled around, dipping her finger into a jar of something clear and greasy. She rubbed it on my lips, then my brows, smoothing them up and away in the process. “What about her cheek?” she asked Felda.
The older woman jammed a final pin in and circled around. Asif it were even possible, the lines around her mouth deepened. She harrumphed. “Well, isn’t this great. Did you walk into a door?”
I wish.
She frantically patted her apron pockets, coming up empty just as Ana waltzed through the door.
She wore emerald again, but this time as a velvet dress that hugged her waist. Hair falling in those beautiful curls to her low neckline, she looked every part of a Princeps’ minister. Or Lady. Or both.
Felda threw her hands up in frustration. “It’s the best I could do. They gave me no time.”
Ana smiled, taking in my figure. “You did fine, Felda.” She held up a black cloak, and I caught glimpses of gold along the seams. “Sorry for the rush, but we have to go.”
I met her at the doorway, palming the fabric. Gold stitching drew soft swirls along every edge of the heavy fabric, much like those on Harthon’s black ensemble from a few days ago.
“What’s wrong with my other cloak?” I asked as I pulled it around my shoulders.
Ana began to lead me down the hallway, her steps quick. “This one is more formal. The purple looks nice, by the way. It brings out your eyes.”
Confusion swirled as I followed her down a staircase. “Why are you saying that like it’s a good thing? I thought we were trying to hide my eyes.”
“Last night changed things. Keeping you hidden is more dangerous than not.”
“Harthon’s introducing me as themagvis?”
Hitting a landing, we passed three guards who regarded me with silent surprise before bowing their heads.
“Yes.”
“To everyone? Not just Princeps Ellan?”
She cut a hard left, taking me down another hallway. “Yes again. It’s better than people thinking you’re a witch when they notice your eyes.” She stopped at a door and pulled it open.
We swept inside the small room, which was sparsely furnished with a table and chairs. Harthon was there, dressed in his formal black while North and Callen stood in their fighting leathers.
Harthon scanned me from head to foot, gaze lingering on my bruised cheek. “The purple tunic is nice,” he commented.
I wasn’t the reason I was wearing a purple tunic, but it was enough of a compliment that my skin began to flush of its own accord. “Apparently it brings out my eyes, which is probably convenient for you, considering you’re introducing me as themagvis.”
“Yes,” he confirmed, meeting me in the middle of the room. Today, the top of his hair was smoothed back in a series of braids, and his scruff was freshly trimmed. It was probably meant to give him a more regal appearance, but no finery could mask the analytical, brutal warrior that lurked beneath the surface. Especially when he still wore daggers strapped to his body and a heavy sword at his hip. “I heard what they said last night just before I came in.”
Monster. Witch. Kill her.Hatred and fear had driven their actions in the end.
“While revealing you to our people poses some risks, not explaining your eyes creates more danger for you than we can afford. Things will be easier if you don’t have to always hide, and if we’re going to tell Ellan that you’re amagvisin a few days, we may as well start the story now.”
“But I don’t know how to act like amagvis.”
