Twelve
I whirl around, wishing for the thousandth time I had a weapon, butthe fight goes out of me as I take in the stranger. A girl, dressed in a lacy skirt and plunging amethyst bodice, is pressed against the opposite wall of the corridor. She’s flouncing and feminine in every way, with deep brown skin that glows in the candlelight, long braids that are twisted into intricate loops, and soft brown eyes that blink at me with horror—as ifIsnuck up onher.
Just like my infuriating maid.
Apparently, I have this effect on everyone in this blooming country.
“Who are you? And what do you want?” I demand.
“Forgive the intrusion,” she says tentatively, “but I heard you yelling and thought I should inform you His Royal Highness is in the king’s council chamber. The meet each morning and won’t be finished until suppertime.”
She smiles, as if she’s simply being helpful, but my frown deepens. The only way she could have heard me yelling is if she was already in this private wing of the castle. And if she knew Alaric would be gone, it means she came here looking specifically forme.
I cross my arms and blatantly look her up and down. She doesn’tlook dangerous, but then, neither does pretty, purple bagrava fruit.
“Who are you? And what are you doing here?” I demand again.
“I’m Elodie Tomasko, daughter of Councilwoman Tomasko,” the girl says with an outlandish curtsy. “And I came to introduce myself, of course. I wanted to be the first to meet the new Tashiri princess.”
She smooths her dress and ventures a hopeful smile, but I’m far too tired and on edge to deal with social climbers already. I turn on my heel and march back toward my chamber, muttering, “I’d hardly call myselfnew. I’ve been a princess all my life.”
The girl follows, giggling into her gloved hand as if I just said the most amusing thing she’s ever heard. “You’re quite the comedian. Her Majesty, Queen Tessa, is going to adore you.”
“I sincerely hope not.”
“Just as she adored Rowenna,” Elodie continues prattling. “Wealladored Ro.”
My sister’s nickname freezes me in place.
I slowly spin back around. “Youknew Rowenna?”
The noble girl laughs and taps my shoulder with the lacy fan dangling from her wrist. “Of course. I knew her even better than I know myself.”
“You’re lying.”
She has to be. Rowenna would have never befriended a member of King Soren’s court. She rarely interacted with our own courtiers in Tashir. She was always too busy running the kingdom. And when she did have downtime, she preferred to spend it with me and sometimes Haddesh. She adored our people, of course, but she was happiest when it was just the two of us. We both were.
Elodie blinks at me with big watery eyes. “I assure you, Rowenna and I are the dearest of friends. Or wewerethe dearest of friends,” she softly amends. “I still cry every night when I think of her. Ro was like the sister I never had. She, of course, had you,” she adds meekly, “but I like to think I was a second sister to her—her Vanzadorian sister. Shemust have mentioned me in her letters?”
Rowenna wouldneverconsider a Vanzadorian her sister, I want to snap. But when Elodie’s brown eyes lift cautiously to mine, they look so lost, so genuinely sad, I bite back my cutting remarks. Whether or not it’s true, if she fancies herself Ro’s best friend, it would be unwise to dismiss her before I mine her for information.
“Elodie Tomasko…” I tap my chin. “Why,yes. Yes, of course! Rowenna mentioned you at length.”
The girl beams and takes both of my hands in hers. “Oh, it’s such a relief to finally meet you, Indira. You’re the only person who understands the depth of my grief. I still can’t fathom a world without Rowenna, but at least we’re together now. You and I shall carry each other through these dark days and fill the void in the other’s heart. We will never forget or replace Rowenna, of course,” she says solemnly. “But she’d want us to carry on in her memory, don’t you think?”
My mind flashes back to Lewis saying this very thing outside my chamber window the morning of Ro’s funeral, and I decide he and Elodie would make a fine, brainless pair.
She sniffles loudly and stares with tearful intensity, which is when I realize her question isn’t rhetorical. She actually expects me to validate her declaration and seal our bond of friendship.
“Um, yes. I suppose thatiswhat Rowenna would want,” I say cautiously. “Perhaps she even led you to me now, in this moment. I’m having a bit of trouble with my maid, you see, and I need someone to help me find—”
“It looks like you’re having alotof trouble with your maid,” Elodie interrupts, crinkling her nose as she looks me up and down.
Despite the wardrobe full of luxurious gowns in my chamber, I’m still wearing the same disgusting trousers and tunic I wore across the Tomb Flats. They’re stiff with dried sweat and blood, and I know I smell worse than a group of ten-year-old boys picking strawberries in highsummer, but I refuse to don the Vanzadorians’ finery.
“Do you know the serving girl?” I press. “Did Ro have trouble with her too?”
But Elodie isn’t listening. “I can’t believe she let you leave your chamber in such a state. Not to worry. I’ll fix you up before anyone sees.”
