“Why?”
“Because even queens need to eat. Get up.”
“No, I mean why are you still here?” Lindy stared dully at her hand for a moment before giving in and accepting the help. Elise was small, but she was stronger than she appeared. “Didn’t Corbin tell you to stay away?”
“His Royal Highness is not the one in charge of my position,” Elise replied briskly. “Nor does he have a say in who I choose to associate with.” She kept hold of Lindy’s hand and led her to the ornately carved dressing table and pushed her onto the stool in front of it.
Lindy met her gaze through the mirror. “You should listen to him; he wants to marry you.”
“Then he should realize listening goes both ways.” Elise set her jaw stubbornly and began to pull out a few of the pins in Lindy’s hair, readjusting and smoothing out the places where her curls had become mussed. “Corbin has many admirable qualities, but he’s not always right.”
“I cursed a prince.”
“So you said.”
“I cursed my own sister.”
Elise’s hands faltered for a moment, but she kept working. “There’s a story there, I’m sure.”
The desire to snatch up the bit of hope that her lady-in-waiting was offering was overwhelming, but Lindy knew better than to allow herself to give in. It would only hurt worse when she inevitably was rejected. She snapped, “I’m not innocent, Elise! I’m not some mistreated, misunderstood damsel; I’m the villain. I’ve done some dark things.”
“I never said you were innocent—I simply said that I’m sure there’s a story.” Elise finished with her hair and stepped back.
Lindy spun around on the stool. “Why are you being so stubborn about this?”
“Why are you?” She put her hands on her hips. “I’ve watched you since the moment you arrived here. You have done nothing but quietly go about your own business, even when those ridiculous princes have done everything in their power to make your life miserable. A snake in your bed? Not a word. Spicy pepper in your soup? You ate the whole bowl without batting an eye. They took you on a picnic and left you stranded in the woods. You walked home and cleaned the mud from your dress yourself. If you were truly the evil witch Corbin tries to make you out to be, you would have dealt with them the first time.”
“Maybe I’m just biding my time.” Lindy tried and failed to keep her voice from trembling. The princes’ antics were well-known, but she had assumed Elise—like everyone else—didn’t care.
“Oh, I’m sure you are.” Elise nodded wisely. “Just not in the way you’re insinuating.” Her voice softened. “I saw the bruises when you arrived, Lindy. I know what it’s like to live in fear of the people you should be able to trust without question. Youarebiding your time; you’re waiting for the inevitable moment when everything you thought might be good suddenly falls apart. And because you know how badly it will hurt, you’re trying to protect your heart by pushing everything away first, because it can’t hurt you if you don’t care.”
She had to blink furiously to keep the tears from falling. “I don’t care. It doesn’t matter if the princes—or anyone else—likes me or not. They can think I’m untrustworthy, they can think I’m a witch, but as long as I don’t have to go back to Nedra, I’ll be fine.”
Elise was quiet for a moment, then, “I think you care more than you’re willing to admit, even to yourself. But even if you don’t return the sentiment, you’re my friend. There is nothing Corbin or you could say to change that.”
Lindy swallowed against the painful lump in the back of her throat, unable to find the words that would accurately encompass everything she wanted to say.
Elise seemed to know, regardless. She squeezed Lindy’s shoulder and handed her a handkerchief. “Friends don’t let friends go to dinner with teary eyes and splotchy cheeks. Come wash your face, and I’ll help you reapply your cosmetics. No matter what they say, you’re still a queen, and you should remind them of it.”
Elise’s words bolstered Lindy through the agony of the formal dinner that followed. With all the additionalmembers of the court in attendance, the long table in the dining hall was filled to nearly overflowing. The loud din of so many conversations suddenly ceased as soon as she entered the room, and Lindy forced herself to hold her chin high as she made her way to her place at the head of the table. Corbin had taken the king’s seat, putting himself at her left elbow. He glared at her as she sat, but said nothing, likely tempering his words due to the presence of her lady-in-waiting on her other side.
Slowly, the conversations began picking up again, though the atmosphere was decidedly more tense than it had been before. Lindy picked at her food, her appetite completely lost.
“Where’s Jacques?” Elise asked conversationally from her right. “I didn’t see him at the funeral. I hope he’s feeling well.”
Lindy looked up from her plate, noticing for the first time the empty chair that should have been filled by the youngest prince. The five other brothers filled the space between Jacques’ chair and Corbin, each of them looking like a variation of Corbin’s theme. Their hair color ranged from blonde to dark, but they all had the same thick brows and strong chins. They shared quick, furtive glances with one another before Pierre, the second youngest at 15, spoke.
“Just a headache, I think. He’ll be feelingmuchbetter by tonight.”
Lindy caught the shift in movement as the next brother, Alvin, kicked Pierre under the table. “What Pierre means is that it’s likely not serious. There’s no need to worry.”
Corbin raised his brows, but didn’t press, and Lindy allowed her attention to fall back to her plate as the dinner carried on around her. At some point, her stepsons all excused themselves, but she thought little of it until the meal was over and she was walking back to her rooms, accompanied by Haldrick’s hulking, looming shadow.
She rounded the last corner and was nearly run over as Jacques skidded to a stop. A cheeky, mischievous grin filled his round, boyish face, and he quickly side-stepped her and kept running in the opposite direction. A heavy, suspicious dread filled her as she continued. A strange squawking sound grew louder the closer she drew to her door, and a note with messy, scribbled letters was tacked to the wood. She pulled it off and quickly read the words.
Birds of a feather stick together;
Here are some friends just as “fowl” as you.
