When Eon rushes out of the closet with a soft pink gown and a matching pair of pants my stomach pits. For as often as I’ve wished to cover the exposed flesh of my legs, I can’t bring myself to wear the gift. Not after last night. Not afterher. I should have thought to check the closet at my uncle’s and decide that I will have to make a point to go back soon.
There is a different air in the halls of the palace today. Guards who usually make a point to look anywhere but my face offer me smiles and nods as I pass through the halls. Even a young feyn page slows in his hurried pace to offer me a tip of his head after raking his eyes across my body. I briefly debate returning for the pants but quickly discard the idea, deciding that the trip to my uncle’s house will simply have to come sooner than I planned.
I’m thrilled when I find Awri already in the domed fea room, until she turns to greet me and her smile falters, her eyes going wide. She glances around the room at the female soldiers posted by the general, all with their heads close together, whispering near the door. She rushes to my side with another nervous glance around us, her brother sauntering up behind her, offering his own curious perusal of my form.
“What are you wearing?” she hisses in a whisper.
My brows crease, and I look down at the dress, smoothing the thin fabric in confusion. It’s nearly the same as every other I’ve worn since the day I arrived.
“Xey said you turned him down,” she says under her breath.
“I did,” I say quietly, more than a little relieved that she already knows.
While I hadn’t decided how I would tell her, I knew it was a conversation that needed to be had.
“Let it go, Awri. She’s allowed to take a lover, even if it isn’t Xeyvian,” Riesh says in my defense, though I’m not sure why or what he even means.
I balk. “I have absolutely no intention of taking a lover.”
“Then why are you wearing that?” Awri hisses in annoyance.
Nervously, I smooth the dress again trying to find the fault in it when I say, “The dress is the same as—”
“She’s talking about the braid,” Riesh says, pointing to the golden plait banding my head. “Feyn ladies have worn their hair like that for millennia to show their intent to find a lover.”
The blood rushes from my face and my hand shoots to my hair, my fingers searching, desperate to unweave the mistake. I spin on my heel when I hear the loud stride of the general coming through the door behind me.
“Hisht,” I say under my breath.
“Hisht,”Awri echoes.
“Oh, foc,”Riesh says amidst an amused chuckle.
I shoot Riesh a glare and turn for the door in an attempt to walk past the general and back to my room to correct the error. I may even take a moment to murder a sprite or two while I’m there. The general’s eyes snag on the golden weave, his jaw tensing. He hooks my bicep with his hand when I make to pass by and I suddenly feel the need to explain myself, not wanting him to feel slighted. Though I’m not sure why I care.
“I didn’t know about the braid,” I say, “About what it meant. I’m going to take it out.”
His eyes follow the bare flesh of my leg, then flick to the guards, staring. At us? At me? I’m not sure anymore.
“You look beautiful,” he says, releasing his hold, “Wear the braid ifyou want to. Whoever he is, he’ll be a lucky male.”
The words land like an unintended blow, the sincerity of his voice striking my chest and sinking deep in my stomach until it hollows. I pull in a breath, and as quickly as it came, the pain fades. The façade of his sincerity shattered by the image of the female I’d seen leaving his chamber.
“I’m sure your lovers are equally blessed,” I reply, just as sweetly, careful to keep any trace of bitterness from my tone.
He tips his head to the side, frowning like he hasn’t quite heard me. Kishek barrels into the room, completely out of breath. He looks about as bad as the last time I’d seen him. He locks eyes with the general and tips his head toward the hall. Awri is the first to run after him, disappearing into the corridor, Riesh and the general following shortly after.
It’s hard not to think about my conversation with Felias, and his warning about the coming war. There is every chance he’s wrong. Fates, I hope he is.
But I felt the truth of it when he told me. I will see war again in my lifetime, and perhaps not because of something I have done.
Awri is alone when she makes her way back into the room, a bit unsettled. She smiles and tells me everything is fine when I ask. She does a poor job of smoothing the lines of worry on her face as we go back to planning the king’s party. If I’d thought I hated all of this nonsense before, now it is nothing less than torture.
I can hardly blame them for keeping things from me. Especially if a war is coming. I’m La’tarian after all, the enemy. I remind myself I have a role to play in all of this and that maybe the death of their sovereign won’t start the war but rather end it before it begins.
I make it through the day without another run-in with the general. The braid at the top of my head slips my mind until I’m reminded by the eager smiles of the guards as I walk back to my room.
Though Awri kept me past sunset, the sprites aren’t waiting for me when I return. No matter, the torrent of chastisement I spent the entire day composing will keep. I waste no time changing into the darkest dress and pants I own, my only set in black. I lace my leather boots around my calves and whip the dark, fur-lined cloak over my shoulders, pulling up the hoodbefore jumping out my window.
