Long ago, this spacious room had been barracks for the soldiers. Now, it was a cozy parlor, with tables laid with golden cloth.
I glanced back at Lord Astartus one last time, as we ascended the stairs.
Nobody would punish him for what he’d done to his daughter.
Saints. Forlaith would not even consider his sins a crime.
My blood boiled, and I swallowed the rage down.
Teela, as it turned out, was an old maid who’d tended to Brighid for years. Wrinkles criss-crossed her dark skin, and her orange hair had turned gray—but she had a kindness about her.
At least someone in Brighid’s life had not been horrible.
“You’re here!” Teela grabbed Brighid’s shoulders and steered her into a room. Bláth dropped her bags by the door and flopped onto the canopied bed.
I tapped the door closed behind me and stood guard at its entrance. “Why did you change your mind?”
Brighid positioned herself before the standing mirror. “I’d forgotten there was going to be a ball. You didn’t pack a dress.”
“I presumed I should wear this.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Do you want to?”
Teela opened a trunk in the corner. A stack of fabrics in every shade I could imagine was tucked inside.
Saints, I missed balls—wearing beautiful gowns and seeing a princess in the mirror. More than anything, I missed the days when my only worry was who I’d dance with that night.
“On second thought.” I smiled. “Iammeeting a queen tonight. Perhaps I should wear something a little nicer.”
Bláth leaped from the bed and ran to the trunk. Teela sighed and stepped aside, hand braced on the trunk as she beckoned me to come over.
“Hm.” Brighid ran a hand across her chin. “You make a fine canvas. Let’s see what I can do with you.”
I felt ashamed.For years, I’d considered myself a lady of high society, of good fashion sense. Brighid had made me seem a pauper.
The dress she’d chosen felt like it had been tailored just for me. A lavender corset hugged my waist and pushed up my—admittedly sparse—chest. The skirt changed colors as it trailed toward the floor, twining with shades of violet and plum. Long, draping sleeves hung to the ground, sheer and silk.
Teela had bound my hair into an elaborate braid, pinning half up and letting the rest tumble in plaits, each section pinned with a half-moon jewel.
I had never felt so beautiful. I only wished the dress had been meant for a happier event.
Before we’d left for the ball, I’d expressed my worry over wearing something so delicate, so feminine. Brighid had said something I wouldn’t soon forget.
“Women can be beautiful sparrows, and sharpened blades, both. There is no shame in either.”
Tradition required the bride to arrive last, so Bláth and I left ahead of Brighid. The Solheart woman had chosen a simple pale-gold gown, hoping to remain discreet.
Bláth linked her arm through mine as we approached the fort’s main buildings. Several Brightspears gathered in the courtyard. Their gazes burned into my skin.
Offering them a smile, I turned my focus to the ballroom as we passed through the doors.
Chatter from lords and ladies rose in a steady hum above the low-lit room. Bouquets decorated every table, gold and red blooms. The dance floor itself was empty—purposefully avoided.
“There.” Bláth touched my back and pivoted me west. “My advice? Stick by Reese all night.”
My Paragon stood by a table, a wine glass balanced between his fingers. He’d changed into white crimson finery; an elegant black shoulder cape covered his right arm.
Liam stood in his shadow, swathed in a dark coat, eyes to the ground.
