Page 122 of Blood of the Fairest

"Oh god, just tell me you hate it. It's the worst thing you've ever seen," I dread out loud.

Her lips turn up, and she shakes her head. There is a surprisingly vulnerable emotion in her quiet voice. "It's beautiful. It has just been a while since I felt like a real Bellavyr."

"That's your surname?"

She nods. "In Aurefeld, my family has long been lauded for their elegance and beauty. It's a point of pride for my parents."

That must have only added insult to injury when their title wasn't recognized by Snow White's grandfather.

"They're endlessly confused about why the queen is backing House Bellavyr now," she adds. "If they heard and believed the story you just told me, they would say you were brought to this world as a belated kindness to us from the Three Crones."

"And what would you say?" I ask, starting to change into my new dress.

I didn't add any frills, but Ida nailed my measurements. It's an off-the-shoulder dark blue gown made of high-sheen mirrorflax, with just enough of a train to look luxurious without wasting fabric I'd rather use on Snow White.

"That whatever force brought you into this world, I'm glad you're on the throne instead of that haughty bitch." Anika turns to study me as I finish sliding the dark blue fabric over my chemise. "If you want to return to your world, I'll help however I can. But it would be easier for me to be helpful if you stopped keeping me at a distance. That goes for Snow White and Ingrid, too."

I pause and then smile sheepishly. "Has anyone ever told you that you're perceptive as hell?"

She shrugs playfully. "Plenty of people, often enough. Anyway, the princess is also perceptive. She adores you and speaks of you constantly—which is how I know she's aware that you are trying not to grow too close to her and the rest of us."

I comb through my hair and grab a new veil and the silver crown. Then I face Anika, fidgeting with everything in my hands.

"Won't it be harder on Snow White if we become best buds and then I have to leave her forever?"

She fixes me with a look. "Friendship lost can't be worse than her beginning to wonder yet again whether she is worthy of the queen's time. Does she not deserve to be accepted with open arms, as she accepted you? You represent a mother to her right now, so be a better one than Reinhilde."

Damn. Anika goes for the throat when she's making a point.

And she does have a good point. Despite everything Snow White has been through, she was so fast to accept me. She's the type of pure-hearted person who believes there's good in the world so ardently that she chooses to trust people right away, even when she could look for a reason not to.

She's the opposite of me, basically.

If I was in Snow's shoes, and someone randomly possessed my evil stepmother out of the blue, I would have kept my distance. I would've protected myself from more harm at any cost, even if it meant staying holed up in my room, alone.

After all, isn't that exactly what I've done for ten years in my world?

Snow White is more resilient than I am. Even with the shit the evil queen put her through, she's still open and hopeful and…childlike, in a way.

She's still in the sparkling throes of girlhood that too many women are ripped out of far too soon.

So fucking help me, I'm going to make sure she can enjoy it as long as possible.

"You're right," I decide, smiling at Anika. "Snow White deserves me being fully present for her, at least until I leave this world. And when I do, at least she'll have Ingrid and Merrick around to soften the blow."

Donning the veil and crown, I offer my arm and add, "Plus she'll have you, Lady Bellavyr. Now, shall we?"

Anika flashes a bright smile and links her arm with mine.

"I think we shall, Queen Verena."

I feel like a fucking force of nature as I stride into Isenmere Castle's big, stained-glass-window-filled council chamber with Merrick on my right side and Anika to my left.

The two dozen members of the Privy Council are already seated around a massive, ornate wood table. It's beyond satisfying to watch as their eyes turn to Anika and one by one, their mouths drop open.

As they should, because she looks like a goddess.

The flawless wispfloss gown billows stylishly around her like tulle starlight, contrasting exquisitely with her dark mahogany complexion. Her tall, lithe form moves with grace. Her gaze is direct as she meets each stare on her way to take a seat near the head of the table.