“Savory says she’s never seen someone so concerned with their appearance that they carry a mirror to announceemergencies,” she said, her voice carefully neutral but with the faintest hint of amusement.
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. Not the uncontrollable giggling that had plagued me all day, but a genuine laugh at the absurdity of it all. Turren looked baffled and checked his mirror again as if it might explain what he’d missed.
“Well,” he finally said, “I’m glad someone appreciates the crisis.” He swept from the throne room, tripping on the rug because he was so busy studying his reflection.
Sasha almost smiled. Just the barest curve at the corner of her mouth, gone so quickly I might’ve imagined it.
But I didn’t imagine the warmth that flooded through me at the sight.
This small victory felt fleeting. If I could just stop this infernal giggling long enough to show her the capable leader I could be, the one who solved problems, not caused them. Then maybe she’d see my value.
“The ballroom is through here,” I said, after we’d left the throne room and walked down the hall to the end and taken a left. If I could get her to smile like that again,reallysmile, maybe this disaster of a wedding day could be salvaged.
As we walked toward the ballroom, the patter of quick footsteps echoed behind us.
Lady Lydia Featherby approached, her silver braids decorated with tiny white flowers bobbing with each step. Her green gown fluttered around her petite frame, and multiple necklaces holding butterfly and flower charms jingled as she moved.
“Your Majesty. Your Majesty,” she called, her green eyes sparkling with concern. “I was returning from the herb gardens when I heard about your lovely bride’s arrival.” She reached us slightly out of breath, immediately focusing onSasha with the intensity of a worried grandmother. “My dear, you look positively radiant, but I can see the tension around your eyes. New places can be overwhelming for sensitive souls.”
Before either of us could speak, she pulled a small silk pouch from her purse looped over her arm and handed it to Sasha. “My favorite frostmire and blusterwhen blend, perfect for an evening tea to settle the nerves. And this,” she produced a tiny glass vial, “is my special tincture for headaches. Just three drops in water if you feel any pressure behind your temples.”
Sasha blinked. “That’s very thoughtful, Lady?—”
“Featherby, dear. Lady Lydia Featherby. And don’t you worry about a thing. I’ve been looking after this court for years. We’ll have you feeling perfectly at home in no time.” She patted Sasha’s arm and turned to me with a knowing smile. “Your Majesty, you must ensure she eats properly. Travel can be hard on the constitution, and a new bride needs her strength.”
“I’ll see that she’s well cared for,” I said, amused by Sasha’s slightly stunned expression.
“Wonderful. I won’t keep you from your tour, then, but do remember, if either of you need anything at all for your health or comfort, you must send for me. I have remedies for everything from nervous stomachs to sleepless nights.”
With that, she hurried down the corridor, her braids bouncing and her jewelry chiming.
“Well,” Sasha said, looking down at the pouch and vial in her hands, “that was interesting.”
“Lady Lydia is a joy,” I said with a grin. “She appointed herself the court’s unofficial caretaker years ago. You’ll get used to her fussing.”
“She seems sweet.”
“She is. And her remedies actually work, which makes her fussing more tolerable.”
I pushed open the big double doors to the ballroom, and even I had to admit the room was impressive. The ceiling had been enchanted to show the sky above, currently displaying the soft pastels of late afternoon to mirror the outside. The dance floor stretched out ahead of us, inlaid with stones that shifted colors as light played across them. Normally, the decorative plants in the corners would burst into bloom at our entrance, but like in the throne room, they had wilted.
She moved closer to examine the drooping plants.
“These are yarling blossoms,” she said.
“Yes.”
“Up close, it’s clear their petals aren’t just wilted, they’re curled inward as if they’re protecting themselves from something.” She reached out tentatively, brushing her fingertips across the nearest leaf.
“Do you sense anything?” I asked, watching her closely.
“I do, but I can’t pinpoint it.” She frowned at the plant. “It’s not disease or lack of water. It’s like they’re afraid.”
“Hmm.”
I walked further into the room. The floor rippled beneath my feet, colors blooming as I passed. “This is where we hold our celebrations. The Emotional Bloom Festival will be held here—” Another giggle interrupted me, but I pressed on. “—in ten days. A full evening of celebration where the entire realm comes alive with magic and joy. Everyone in the court participates.”
“It sounds wonderful.”
