Chapter 1
The rain came all at once. It drenched the market stalls in a matter of moments, filling buckets and pails and saturating every surface it came into contact with.
Ashlin quickly gathered her remaining vegetables off the table in front of her, dropping them into a large woven basket on the ground. Even the waxed fabric cover above her stall was starting to leak under the pressure of the deluge.
The townsfolk around her dashed towards shelter, tossing up the hoods on their cloaks and calling for their errant children.
“Mielle!” one frantic woman shrieked as she crisscrossed the marketplace. “Where are you?”
Having no cloak or hood to bother with, Ashlin leaned down to lift her basket from the ground, where a pair of small eyes met her own. Crouched under the market table, a little girl trembled as she hugged her knees.
“Are they coming?” the girl asked.
Ashlin dropped to her knees. “Are who coming?”
“The Majis.” The girl shrank further under the small table. “Mamma says that when they come, they will take me away. I don’t want them to take me away!” A tear ran down her puffy cheek.
“No, no, no.” Ashlin reached out to her new little friend with both hands. “It’s just another storm. There’s always lots of storms during silverreign.”
The little girl allowed herself to be gently pulled out of her hiding place. “Mamma says that it’s almost greenreign.”
“It is,” Ashlin continued soothing. “And then the flowers will bloom and the rains will stop. Besides, the king will protect us from the Majis. See the castle up there?” She pointed up the hill to the white-walled palace of Iseldis above the village homes.
The little girl nodded.
“That is where the king lives, and he will make sure we are safe.”
The child nodded again, nestling her head against Ashlin.
Ashlin hugged her back. “But right now, it’s time to get out of this rain.” She stood up, bringing the small child with her. “I found Mielle!” she called across the marketplace to the distraught mother.
After she reunited them, the rain stopped as abruptly as it had come. Even though she had half a basket of vegetables left, the market was empty. Water streamed off the stall cover above her. She had no reason to stay, but her feet were loath to turn home.
Lifting her basket, she dashed across the muddy square and slipped inside the dress shop of Mistress Cedrice. The sudden warmth stung her freezing fingers. She set her basket near the door and used her steamy breath to ease the ache in her hands.
A few ready-made dresses hung from wooden frames along the front window, but she moved past them to the packed shelves on the back wall. This was her favorite spot in the kingdom, a simple wall filled with spools of fabric.
As her fingers acclimated, her eyes roamed over the familiar textures and colors. She noticed that the bolt of deep purple linen was empty. No doubt every nobleman in the city had come in to request the same purple jerkin that Mistress Cedrice had made for Prince Onric a few weeks prior. Behind the now-empty spool, however, Ashlin noticed a bright flash of azure blue. That was new.
Taking a quick look at her hands, she carefully wiped off a smudge of dirt with her apron before reaching out to reverently touch the unfamiliar fabric. It was cool and smooth, and she was surprised to recognize the texture of silk. While the fabric had an almost invisible shimmer, its linen-like quality gave it a depth she had never seen in a silk. Immediately, her mind began to construct an elaborate gown. No, not elaborate—the silk was too special to be elaborate. This fabric would be stunning in a bold, weightless dress, unlike any of the gaudy fashions worn by the men and women at court. She wished she had a piece of charcoal to capture the lines of the seams she was drawing in her head.
“I see you found the old blue,” a voice cut into her thoughts. Mistress Cedrice had come into the storefront from the back room where she constructed her dresses.
“Old?” Ashlin dipped her head in a quick bow to the elderly woman. “I’ve never seen it before.”
“I bought it from a merchant many years ago because I was entranced by the color. But since Queen Cara only wears burgundy and purple, no one wanted a dress in light blue. It eventually got buried behind the bolts that sell.”
“It’s beautiful.” Ashlin tried to tear her eyes from the enchanting silk and engage in conversation with the expert seamstress, but she could not. Her eyes soaked in the color as though she had never seen anything so beautiful. Everything in her life these days seemed to be brown. Brown dresses. Brown mud. Brown squash. Brown aprons. Brown bread. Brown chickens. Even brown hair. She sighed.
“What would you make with it?” the older woman asked.
“A gown,” Ashlin replied, still fingering the fabric, “with structure. Just a few simple lines. But no embroidery. The blue would shine on its own.”
“It would surely make the blue of your eyes shine.”
Ashlin felt herself blushing. “It would not be for me.”
“Why ever not? You are a lord’s daughter.”
