Page 17

The women looked at each other as if I’d said something absolutely mad.

“Squire? Oh no, no, no.” Faline shook her head and swiftly moved over to Anise, grabbing her arm and dragging her away from the wardrobe. “You are clearly misplaced, child. I shall have you escorted to your proper room.”

“I belong here with my cousin,” Ann said. She tore away from the woman’s grasp with a vicious glare. “How dare you put your hands on me.”

“Perhaps you’d prefer shackles? Or a noose?” The woman went to the corner of the room, pulling a large rope. The bitter, humiliated anger on Ann’s face was enough to make me want to laugh and whoop. “The Royal Knight is not allowed guests in her chambers. And seeing as you are an apparent squire—which I highly doubt—you have even less reason to be here.”

“Not allowed guests?” I asked.

Elizabeth linked arms with mine, guiding me to a large tub in the corner of the room, away from where Anise and Faline continued to argue. “At court, yes. But not in your room. For security reasons.” She gave me a sheepish grin. “This dress really is positively appalling up close.”

I smirked. “Well, at least the king has already seen me at my worst. It can only get better from here.”

Elizabeth took a black standing screen from where it was propped against the wall and began to unfold it. I helped her, and she smiled. “You’ll get used to the restrictions. Soon, perhaps, you’ll even see them as luxuries.”

There was a knock at the door, but when I tried to look around the other side of the screen, Elizabeth gracefully led me back toward the bathtub and began undoing my corset. “Let Faline deal with that. You’re the king’s knight—the only battles you’ll have to fight are with The Dark. If you ever need anything else, Faline and I, as well as Beric and Albert, should be the first ones you turn to.”

“That’s so kind,” I said. And yet it was hard to ignore the commotion on the other side of the screen—it sounded as if guards had entered and were hauling Ann out. I couldn’t lie, I felt a bit of satisfaction and relief, even if it didn’t last. “Could my cousin still accompany me to court this evening please? Even if she’s staying elsewhere. I’m a bit nervous, it being my first night and all.”

Understanding crossed her face. “I suppose there’s no harm, this one time.”

I let out a sigh of relief.

If all went well, one night was all it would take.

Elizabeth was so kind, the perfect princess. I grabbed her hands, suddenly remembering who was assisting me. “Your Highness, this is beneath you.”

“Eliza,” she corrected, and shooed away my hands to continue. “And I am your maid, my lady. This is my duty to the crown.”

“Cali,” I corrected. “And you’re a princess.”

“I am,” she said, as if it was all a big joke. “But as you saw in the king’s room, my father doesn’t much care for me. And since he doesn’t view me as a possible heir—despite being his current firstborn—I had to find something else to occupy my time. I needed to feel useful.” She rolled up my dress, gingerly, searching for a spot to put it before opting for the floor. “Besides, I quite like it. Dressing the Royal Knight up like a doll, being responsible for making her the envy of court. It does something for the ego.”

“Then by all means,” I said, grinning, “pamper away.”

CHAPTER7BERIC

I went straight to the abbey, avoiding people however I could. I should have gone to the king first, but if I did, he’d put me to work, and I needed a moment for myself. One thing for myself.

My footsteps echoed up through the vaulted stone ceiling, despite my efforts to avoid notice.

I selected my usual prayer bench, away from others, resting my forehead on my arms rather than folding my hands. If I cried—and I could feel it coming—I didn’t want anyone to bear witness. Because … finally. Finally. I was free.

“Thank you, God,” I murmured. I could spend an hour here thanking God for making yesterday the last day I would have to cope with Vi’s terror, but after a decade of working here, I knew He understood that I was under time constraints. “Forgive me,” I said next, for thanking Him for someone’s death. But then, He understood that too.

Years of solitude had developed in me a bad habit of inventing personality traits for the creator of the universe. We had so much in common, in my head.

“Knights normally aren’t good people,” I whispered, “but, for my sake, could you make an exception this once? I’m not worried about violence. I just don’t want her to think I’m … strange.”

And, as expected, the tears began gathering at the backs of my eyes. Anxiety. Hopefulness. Relief. Dread. I didn’t know what I was feeling.

I wiped my eyes on my crossed forearms. “I made the right choice, didn’t I? I mean, she will be a positive addition to the palace, won’t she?”

He didn’t tell me anything. Not with words. But as usual, releasing things to Him made me feel better, and I’d always been content on that being an answer in itself. I was ready to survive another day.

No. Not survive. I was ready to finally live.

“Right,” I said, patting the rail I’d been leaning on as I stood, “good talk,” and quickly made my way out.