She was never a good liar. She had obviously been wringing her hands with worry ever since the General demanded my audience.
Brietta might have looked the part of the future Duchess, but she still needed me to give her radical ambition some fangs. She might want to disguise the interrogation as a midday tea, but I had no time to waste on pleasantries.
If the loose lips of a drunk woman were my best lead, I would get Freya to talk our way to freedom.
The guard gave Brietta a dutiful bow before leaving us alone. Brietta reached for my hand but drew back.
My heart sank a little at the reminder that nothing was the same between us.
She refused to look at me, but quickly moved further down the hallway. I followed. Brietta stayed quiet and stopped at a door near the end of the hall. She opened it to reveal a dark bedroom and quickly beckoned me inside.
She shut the door with both palms and clicked the lock. “What happened?”
“He questioned my arrival and I told him the truth.” I looked up at her. “You may have noticed my new…form does not allow me to refuse direct questions.”
Her face paled, but I stopped her before she could spiral. “He asked nothing about you.”
She sighed with relief and I turned to see where she had taken me. Unlike Annalisa’s bedroom that was a rainbow of pastel shades, the room had dark wood furniture, a lush green bedspread, and a curved white chair with a matching footstool that sat by the sunny window.
Simple and comfortable—a sharp contrast from everything else in Hyton Palace.
I eyed a small tapestry decorated with maidens and raven feathers on the wall. “Whose bedroom is this?”
Brietta crossed over to a polished wardrobe, not meeting my eye. “It was supposed to be yours.”
She flicked the latch and opened the doors. Dresses in shades of Hyton Blue filled the wardrobe, but glimpses of earthy green and creamy ivory peeked out in between. I walked over and touched a green sleeve—the fabric was so soft, I immediately wanted it on my arms.
I bit my tongue. Only Derrick knew how much I loved gentle green colors. The chair at the window was perfect for hours of comfortable embroidery. The room was far enough away from the stairs that noise would not have invaded my peace.
Derrick gave me the perfect refuge and it all went to waste. I was never going to be his Duchess.
Brietta stepped away from the wardrobe and folded her arms. “Look presentable. We have to go into town after tea, then we have dinner with the entire House of Hyton afterward.”
I pursed my lips and rifled through the wardrobe. “I did not realize you would organize a full schedule for me.”
She bristled. “Youwere the one who said we did not have much time. Besides, the dinner was all Derrick’s idea. He wanted to celebrate your…safe arrival.”
Meaning he was elated that I had come back to the palace without Riyan.
I selected a deep purple skirt and bodice that was embroidered with creeping ivy. Brietta kept her arms folded and stared at the willow leaf pattern on the wallpaper as I dressed. Every garment fit perfectly, even the slippers.
I had just finished tying back my hair with an ivory ribbon when Brietta spoke up. “Freya has already had a bottle of wine. She is ready to talk.”
The teacup’s glaze glistened in the sunlight from the tall windows. Eiders cooed outside as they glided over the waters of the Western Sea. Magnus the Bedwarmer softly purred in Freya’s lap.
Freya slurped down the rest of her wine and set the empty bottle on the table with a sigh. “You will have to pour your own tea, kittens, I banished the servants. Cannot risk any hungry ears around.”
Brietta and I glanced at each other from across the small round table. Both of us had our hands clasped firmly in our laps as we silently choked on the risk Freya was about to take.
Freya looked from Brietta to me and sighed. “Fine, I will say it.” She took a breath. “Ilsa! Ilsa! Ilsa!”
Brietta and I recoiled as her words echoed around the small sunroom. Freya nonchalantly reached for the steaming teapot in the center of the table.
“See?” She poured herself a cup of fragrant tea. “No one is running in with an axe. Unclench, will you?”
Brietta and I still held our breaths. Freya scoffed and grabbed Brietta’s teacup. She produced a small vial from between her breasts and poured a few drops into the cup. “Here—a little gift from the faeries. Mix it with the tea.”
Brietta’s saucer rattled as Freya clumsily set the cup down. She snatched my cup and gave me a helping of whatever was in her vial.
