I rolled my eyes and climbed out of bed. Annalisa pulled me in front of her easel and positioned my arms to look like I was holding an invisible bow and drawing back an arrow.
I felt ridiculous. “Grigory is going to come out looking rather small.”
Annalisa scowled. “You know I always use more than one reference.”
I looked down at the table next to her. Beside her collection of paints was a faerie book, open to an illustration of the heroic Prince Haldar. The book was an older version than the one I grew up with, so instead of his signature dark curls, Prince Haldar had hair down his back with braids framing his face like an ancient warrior.
I smiled. Riyan had said Prince Haldar was his favorite faerie story growing up. He definitely emulated Prince Haldar’s gallant qualities.
Yes, that was something I remembered liking about him. I looked back down at the illustration—the handsome Prince Haldar stood in a field of flowers as he journeyed to slay the giant.
Handsome. Heroic. Gallant.Thatis what I remembered about Riyan.
My chest started to feel warm for the first time in days. My eyes traced the red flowers on the illustration in the faerie book and suddenly a song filled my head.
“Just as blossoms bloom and whither…” I sang.
Annalisa stopped painting. “What are you doing?”
Great question. It was the same tune as the song in my dream, so maybe I had invented it. “Oh, appreciating Prince Haldar.”
She scoffed. “Really? Everyone knowsThe Snow Princess of the Northhas the superior protagonist—you cannot beat talking to animals and coming back from the dead!”
My womb cramped like a fist wrapped around it and I lowered my arms. Annalisa probably had a vial of motherwort nearby, her cycle always started a couple of days before mine.
“Hurting, huh?” Annalisa said as her brush stippled on the canvas. “I will have a maid bring up a cup of tea to help.”
A cup? Just one?
I pressed my hand against my lower belly to help with the pain. “What about you?”
Annalisa did not look up from the grey and white splotches in front of her. “Mine has not come yet.”
A loud knock rapped on the door. That did not sound like a maid.
“The General summons Madame Bloodstone.”
My heart stopped. The General had been so insistent that I go to Bloodstone Fortress and stay with Riyan, it was no surprise that he would want to inquire about me returning alone.
“Uncle Ragnar can wait until we have breakfast,” Annalisa replied. She swirled her paintbrush in a small jar of oil with an annoyedclink.
“He requests her immediately.”
“I request that yougo awayimmediately.”
It was a rude hour to call upon a lady, but I needed to speak to the General anyway. I could not fault him for promptly giving me an opportunity to find out more about Riyan.
I quickly put on a pair of Annalisa’s slippers and grabbed a dark blue robe hanging on the side of a massive oak wardrobe. Hopefully Annalisa would not mind me borrowing her clothes.
I slung the robe across my shoulders and pulled the satin belt tight. “Anna, quit making a fuss. I am sure your uncle just wants to ask me about Sir Bloodstone’s whereabouts.”
Tell the truth as it benefits you.
I could not lie and I had no idea if my magic would even work on the General, but I had one weapon in my arsenal if all else failed—I knew Riyan was his son.
A stone-faced guard stood on the other side of the door. I pulled the edge of the robe tighter across my chest and followed the guard down the hallway. The snores of the other Hyton daughters filtered under their doors as we passed.
The guard stopped at a seemingly random spot in the middle of two doors. He pulled the metal bracket of a sconce and a thin panel opened up the wall. He slipped into the secret passage as I made a quick note of its location—across the hall and four doors down from Annalisa’s room.
