Freya choked at my mother’s bluntness—but I knew better than to flinch.
“Half-moon,” I said, deadpanning as Edith wove strands of my hair into a braid.
Mother hummed and scratched something onto a paper at my desk. “Perhaps we’ll get two tries at a babe while you’re here,” she mused.
“I’m thinking more than that,” Freya whispered.
Edith shot her a warning glare, but she only smiled wide, shoving a red curl behind her ear as she buckled my boots beneath my evergreen dress. I hadn’t worn green since my return. Back then, it marked my failure. Now it symbolized the path ahead.
“I’ve been organizing in hopes the treaty succeeded,” Mother sighed, pressing a finger to the space between her brows. “But it’ll still take days to bring everything together. I worry it won’t be as grand as I’d imagined.”
“Draconis do their best,” I said. “It’s not as if we’ve had months to prepare.”
“Thank the sun,” Freya muttered under her breath.
Edith cleared her throat, but the young maid didn’t yield. She wasn’t under Edith’s charge, not like Scythe. She only smirked and went back to the laces.
“This isn’t just your wedding,” Mother said. “It’s a message to the islanders. They need to see unity. Strength. This union is proof we can rise from past mistakes and reshape them into triumph.”
I pressed my lips together. Brides didn’t plan their own weddings. That belonged to their mothers—and mine had claimed the task with both hands.
“Will you need me after the signing?” I asked, straightening the stiff collar circling my neck. The fabric hugged my throat like armor. Her design. I liked how it felt—imposing.
“No. You’re free to do as you wish.” She turned in her chair. “Did you have plans?”
“I want to take Kallias to the little island.”
“For a swim?”
Edith coughed once and fled the room, but Freya’s head snapped up, amusement gleaming in her eyes.
“I thought it would be nice to get away for a bit,” I said.
“I think you two havegotten awayquite enough.” Her tone clipped. “Betrothed or not, standards still stand.”
Relaxed standards. If Tallon and I had been caught wrapped around each other, people would have whispered. No scandal. Only discomfort and gossip.
“I’ll honor them,” I said. “But he needs a break from the palace, the pressure.”
“And your brother can’t take him because?”
I raised a brow. “Ronan?”
She let out a defeated sigh, shaking her head. “Fine. But remember—your father may fly over.”
Freya tied off the last lace, patted my calf, and stood. “You look beautiful. Green suits you.” She winked.
“See her before dinner,” Mother added. “She’ll need the sand scrubbed from her scalp.”
Dismissed, my maid slipped out, and Mother stepped close. Her fingers smoothed the braid over my shoulder, her lips warm against my cheek.
“You’ll be spectacular today.”
I stood, brushing out my skirts. “Redeeming myself?”
“There was no redemption necessary.” She slid her palms down my sleeves, smoothing the creases. “Your father never thought less of you.”
But Adoni did.
