“It’s beautiful.” I test the material with my fingertips. It’s made of silk with a wide collar and a delicate lace overlay across the waist. “I have never seen anything so fine.”
“It was Princess Romeria’s.”
I pull my hand away as if burned. “Oh, I couldn’t—”
“She will not mind, believe me.” She eases it over my head. “A more generous heart for mortals, I have not seen before.”
I slip my arms through the holes. The material tumbles to the floor.
“Take a look.” Corrin gestures to the dressing mirror.
Even with only candlelight to illuminate the reflection, I feel transformed. Elegant, the silk subtly clinging to my curves. “I should hope Kazimir approves.”
“Do not play games with me. There is only one immortal you seek approval of, and you will surely get it in that. I will not bother with more warnings because you will not listen to me.” She gives me a knowing look before collecting my soiled dress from the marble floor.
But my mind is still lingering on the princess—on why she was here. “They are saying there is a caster within Cirilea, and she was there when His Highness fell.”
Corrin’s hands stall. “They did not recognize her?”
“No. Kazimir said he’s never seen her before. She was with a legionary, and she tried to heal Atticus before the king’s guard arrived and they ran.”
“I imagine they will find her soon enough.” She examines my soiled dress. “Well, it isn’t a wonder the captain sent you in here.”
I get the sense Corrin is dismissing the topic intentionally, but I don’t push. We both have our secrets and perhaps it’s best to keep them that way.
“The laundress should be able to get the stains out.” Digging into the pocket, she pulls out the baby booties. “What are these?”
“Oh! Just someone thought I might like them.” I scramble over a suitable lie. “One of Dagny’s girls.”
“That was nice of them. They’ll keep Suri’s feet warm at night.” She sticks her hand in the other pocket.
I suck in a gasp as she pulls out the gold coin and holds it up to the light. I’d forgotten about it.
Her eyes dart to me but she doesn’t say a word as she strolls over to the bathing chamber door, to chuck the soiled dress out while doing a quick scan. Seemingly satisfied, she pulls the door shut again and marches back, holding the coin between us, the double crescent moon facing me. “Who gave this to you, and do not dare lie to me, Gracen. I cannot protect you and your children if you do.”
I swallow my growing anxiety. “From Princess Romeria. Queen Romeria now, apparently. Of some kingdom.”
Corrin’s eyebrows climb halfway up her forehead. “She was here? Inside the castle?”
“By the stables, when I went to look for Mika. It was her, but she had a mask on to disguise herself. Silver when it was off and a new face when it was on. It was like nothing I’ve ever seen.”
“A fates’ token, surely.” Corrin’s hands wring with her thoughts. “And the exiled king? Did you see him?”
“No. Just her, the warrior, and a young mortal named Pan. Very friendly. He’s the one who gave me the coin and the booties, from an old friend in Freywich.”
“You said a kingdom. Where?”
“High in the mountains, near the rift. Pan called it Ulysede.”
“They traveled all the way back down here?” She purses her lips with doubt.
“I do not know. We had so little time to speak. They were running from the king’s guard. Her hands were covered in blood.” I drop my voice even lower. “I think she was the one who saved Atticus, Corrin.”
Corrin bites her bottom lip. “Yes.”
I knew it. “Now it is your turn to speak truth. What do you know about this?”
“Far more than I wish I did.” She sighs. “They are one and the same.”
My mouth gapes. “You mean Her Highness is a caster?”
“Yes, a powerful one, though no one here knows that. No one, except Wendeline, and she has suffered greatly to keep that secret.”
Wendeline. “Her Highness gave me a message for the priestess that I must pass on.”
“About what?”
Tell her we had it wrong and the door is already open, but the prophecy is real.
I falter. “It is best I do not repeat it. I do not want you complicit in this.”
Corrin’s face tightens. “Be very careful, Gracen. If the king suspects you are conspiring with her—”