Delicately holding a cup of tea in one hand and a saucer in the other, she watches the dressmaking process with intense curiosity. I thought being under Mother’s very loudly opinionated scrutiny was bad, but Lady Mari’s silent observation feels weightier. I’m suddenly self-conscious. All the criticisms I’ve heard about my body swirl in my head. Too muscular, too short, too?—
“Dearest, has anyone told you that for one of such petite stature, you have quite … ample … attributes?” Lady Mari’s gentle voice pulls me from my thoughts.
I quirk a brow, but the demure look on her face makes me want to laugh.Ample attributes?
“No one has quite put it that way,” I say, still holding back laughter. “Have you seen Arionna? She makesamplean understatement.”
Her face pulls tight, but it’s amusement that glimmers in her eyes and crinkles at the corners. I press my hand over my mouth to stifle the sound as laughter slips free. It earns me a sharp pinprick in my side. I suck in a quick breath and jerk away involuntarily.
The dressmaker winces. “Apologies,” she says, and Lady Mari’s dainty giggles flitter across the room. She has a certain tenderness to her that makes me wonder how she could’ve raised a man like Gruffud.
Sobering again, Lady Mari tilts her head as she regards me. “The muscle definition in your arms and legs is uncanny.”
I meet her gaze, trying to figure out if it’s an insult or a compliment. It seems to be the latter, so I tentatively thank her.
“My father used to train me,” I admit, sadness knotting my throat. “He tried to convince me to love sword fighting as much as hand-to-hand, but he wasn’t very successful.”
Lady Mari presses a hand over her heart. “Oh dear. Hand-to-hand? As in … fisticuffs?”
I smile and nod.
“That’s awfully odd for a woman of high standing.”
Everything isawfullyoddfor a woman of high standing. I shrug. “He wanted me to be able to defend myself.”Against pricks like your son.And yet I don’t do a thing about it …
Lady Mari sets her teacup and saucer on the accent table and runs her fingers through her blond hair, which has been steadily turning silver over the past year. It reminds me of another platinum-haired woman from my past.Nimue. Fear suddenly has me in a chokehold. I close my eyes to repress the memories of lies and pain. I push away the thoughts only to land on last night’s attack. The scent of blood returns to my senses. ThePeacekeepers shot down innocent travelers … who were simply having dinner.
“Are you well, dear?”
I open my eyes to look at Lady Mari again, forcing my lips to curve into a smile. “I am.” The dressmaker begins pinning fabric around the large swell of my bust, so I hold my arms out and remain still.
For a while, there’s silence save for the rustle of fabric and occasional clink of Lady Mari’s teacup. The dressmaker unpins all the fabric from me and jots down a few notes on parchment with a quill and ink.
Moments later, I head downstairs to brew a cup of tea, hoping to take it up to my room for some much-needed quietude. Instead, I run into Sage, who beams at me as soon as I enter the kitchen. “Lady Gwyneth,” she says enthusiastically. “I have something for you. From Neris.”
My interest piqued, I step closer. “From Neris?”
“Yes.” She marches toward the counter and lifts a small package of sorts. With quick steps she returns to me, holding out something in beeswax paper. Slowly, I unwrap the paper as the servant continues to speak. “Catriona delivered it a moment ago. She said Neris wishes you a very happy twentieth birthday and owes you a big hug. Neris hopes this satisfies the craving for her hugs for now.”
I catch the buttery sweet aroma of caramel before I even finish unwrapping the confection. A smile splits my face at the sight of the flakey squares of shortbread biscuits layered with caramel and topped with chocolate.
“She also says she owes you a cake.”
I chuckle. What I’d give for one of Neris’s cakes, but the caramel-chocolate biscuits are more than enough. “Thank you. Would you like one?” I extend the parcel, but she shakes her head.
“Oh no, I couldn’t impose.”
“Please, you’re not imposing. I’m offering. I cannot eat all of these by myself. Or rather … I shouldn’t.”
She smiles and nods before delicately plucking one of the biscuits from the wax paper. “You are very kind, Lady Gwyneth. I hope that never changes.”
I smile.
“Oh, and Neris said to give you this.” She pulls out a folded sheet of paper from her pocket and hands it to me. Bobbing a small curtsy, Sage strides away with her treat.
I set my birthday treat on the counter and open the letter of Neris’s almost-illegible scrawl.
My dearest sister-friend,
