The floorboards sighed softly as I walked to my bed and gently slid the dagger under my pillow. As much as I hated what that dagger symbolized, I was not stupid enough to sleep without a weapon—especially when Riyan’s mood wasso unpredictable.
I sat at the writing desk again and brought out a piece of parchment to reply to Annalisa. Even though Derrick could shove his sneaky little demand up his ass, I would not ignore his innocenttwin’s letter.
Anna,
I am alive and unharmed. The mountain was chilly at first, but I grew used to it. Bloodstone is truly different. You would not believe it—I was doing laundry myself!
I think whatever your mother is doing with Brietta is turning her into a true Hyton. Maybe you could talkto her.
Your rose painting was magnificent, but those without an eye for true beauty could never see that. I would love to see more of what youcan create.
And do not worry. I am not afraidof Riyan.
—Sera
I folded the parchment into an envelope and thought about what I would reply to Brietta.
Regardless of the tightness in my chest as I thought of Brietta wearing the crown that was supposed to be mine, I had to give her some credit. Brietta saw the truth of everything and was brave enough to speak out, something I was never ableto do.
Frankly, I envied her. I envied her not just because of her stature, her beauty, her family’s money, the fact that she was going to be Duchess, or even that she married Derrick, but that she couldbehonest.
Probably because she never needed to lie to get what she wanted. How fortunatefor her.
I crumpled Brietta’s letter and shoved it into the top drawer of the writing desk. Brietta could sit in the dark for allI cared.
I addressed my reply to Annalisa and then sealed the envelope with red wax and the stamp of the snarlingBloodstone bear.
As soon as I finished sealing the letter, the bedroom door creaked open. Riyan stood in the doorway, candle in-hand and shirtless, just like thenight before.
Riyan softly walked over to the writing desk and bowed his head to avoid one of the beams in the ceiling. I shrunk in my chair, my chest teeming with guilt as Derrick’s secret message sat on the writing deskbetween us.
“You mended my shirt,”he said.
I stared at the wooden top of the desk. “I told youI would.”
“No, I mean you did something elseto it.”
Riyan plopped the shirt on top of Annalisa’s letter. He grabbed the sleeve I had mended and turned it so the embroidered flowersfaced me.
“What’s this?”he asked.
“I embroidered it,” I replied. My eyes fell to my hands in my lap. He did notlike it.
“Why?”
I swallowed and my palms began to sweat. “I thought you wouldlike it.”
“I do like it—very much, actually. But why did youdo it?”
I chewed on my tongue, not wanting to answer him, but then I released my fists in my lap and sighed. If Brietta was brave enough to be honest, I could tryto be.
“I wanted to make you happy,” I admitted. “Maybe if you were happy seeing the flowers on your sleeve, you would not lose yourtemper again.”
Riyan did not respond. The only sounds in the room were the flames fluttering on our two candles. I stared at the shirt on the table, too bashful at my confession to look upat him.
“You need to comb your hair,”he said.
My hands flew to the ends of my hair, which were horribly tangled after a day’s work. My cheeks burned and embarrassment crinkled in my chest likeballed-up parchment.
