“I’m just tired. Everything that happened … It’s still catching up with me. I need some time to adjust.”
He doesn’t say anything. I can seein his eyes that he’s deciding whether to push more or not. Then he sighs and leans back in his chair.
“Is there anything else?”
He’s quiet for a moment, then he rises from his chair and comes around the desk to stand before me. His hand finds my chin, tilting my face up to look at him.
“You have your mother’s eyes. Did you know that? The same shape. The same way they change color in different lights.”
My throat tightens.
“She would have known what to say to you right now. She always knew.” His thumb brushes across my cheek. “I’m not as good at this as she was. But I want you to know that whatever happened out there … whatever it is that you don’t think you can tell me … I’m here.”
I blink hard, eyes burning. “I know.”
“Go and rest. Perhaps you should spend a few days in your room and relax, instead of joining us for meals.”
He’s trying to avoid another outburst. I could argue, but in truth I have no interest in being stared at, so I nod and rise, grateful for the dismissal, and guilty for the things I’m not telling him.
The walk back to my chambers takes me past the east wing, where the windows overlook the private gardens. The morning sun has broken through the clouds, casting pale gold light across the hedges and paths below. I pause at one of the windows, letting the warmth touch my face.
I should go straight back to my room. Stay out of sight until the talk about last night dies down. But the thought of those four walls closing around me makes my chest tight. I need air. Space. Something other than the echo of my own thoughts.
So I turn toward the gardens instead.
The paths are mostly empty at this hour. A few gardenersare working among the hedges, and I walk without direction, letting my feet choose the route.
Voices reach me from around the next bend in the path. Women’s voices, light and laughing. I slow my steps, not really wanting company, but the path offers no easy escape.
Lady Maren, my sister’s closest friend, and two of her companions are seated on a bench near the fountain, their heads bent together. They look up as I approach, and a quick glance passes between them.
“Lady Alleria. What a surprise to see you out and about.”
“I needed some air.”
“Of course. Fresh air is so restorative.” She gestures to the space beside her on the bench. “Won’t you join us? We were just discussing Lady Ashworth’s upcoming party. There’s a rumor that her betrothed is bringing fae entertainment.”
“Entertainment?”
“A dancer, I believe.” Lady Rosa leans forward. “They’re supposed to be exquisite. All grace and otherworldly beauty.”
“Worth every coin, I’m sure.” The third woman, Lady Helene, fans herself. “I saw one perform last winter. It danced for hours without stopping. When it finally collapsed, they dragged it off and brought out another.”
Maren laughs. “That’s the advantage of buying in pairs. You always have a spare.”
“The trick is breaking them young,” Rosa adds. “Before they develop … attitudes. Start the training early enough, and they’re perfectly docile by the time they’re grown. They’ll do whatever they’re commanded without a moment’s hesitation.” The look in her eyes suggests she’s not talking about dancing anymore.
“Like trained dogs. Only prettier.”
They all laugh, light tinkling sounds, as though this is the most amusing thing they’vediscussed all morning.
I should walk away. I should smile and nod, then make an excuse and leave.
“Training?” I hear myself say instead. “You mean torture.”
The laughter stops. Lady Maren’s smile freezes on her face.
“I beg your pardon?”
