The eleven survivors from the dome sit in silence at breakfast. Sore isn’t a good enough word to describe the level of aching in my body. Even waking up was a colossal effort, much less getting to my feet. A cleared throat startles us out of our stupor. Malir stands at the end of the table. I straighten.
“For the next two weeks, per the King’s orders, you will train with the Watchmen. If selected, you may choose to remain here as part of the Watch, or you may return to the Outer Rings.”
Whispers are thrown around the table. Most of the fighters are amazed they might actually be allowed to leave the castle, let alone offered a Watch position.
Malir looks directly at me. I catch the slight confusion in his gaze. No doubt he’s wondering why I saved his life. I wish I could tell him, instead of continuing this deception. As it is, I struggle to keep the recognition from my face. I remind myself; eyes cold, mouth straight, Frost attitude on.
Malir addresses Crystal. “You will be expected to help with the castle duties, in addition to tasks given to you by my wife, Sadra.” I try to reassure Crystal with a glance as she’s whisked away by Sadra. Malir’s wife would never harm her. But Crystal doesn’t know this.
We follow Malir out of the food hall. I walk beside Shard as we head toward the training yard, accompanied by our guard. King Jovan is talking to Roman, but peers our way as we pass, watching until we’re out of sight.
“Did anything happen in the barracks?” I ask Shard.
“Surprisingly, no. We were kept separate from the Watch. Flurry would have loved the mattresses,” he adds. I laugh, though the sound catches in my throat. We exchange a sad look, and in a rare moment, Shard lets down his guard, revealing the depth of his hurt.
We file into the training yard and, honestly, I’m a little excited. How many times have I watched the training with Fiona and Jacquiline and wished I could join in? Malir has the watchmen practicing archery again. I see his men aren’t any better than they were in the last sector. Jovan’s army is deadly with a huge array of weaponry, but a bow and arrow is simply not one of them. On Osolis, archery is utilized by even the poorest of villagers, but not here. A few of the Watch show improvement, but the majority hit the target less than half of the time, and nowhere near the center.
I stand to one side, trying not to laugh at Adnan, who is fumbling around in his attempts to get an arrow nocked onto the bowstring. It must be his day of the week to train. I know the young inventor hates it. And I have to admit, Fiona or Crystal could probably best his blundering attempts to draw the arrow.
I take pity and approach him.
“You haven’t done this much,” I say. He spins around and looks down at the bow in his hand.
“That obvious?” He ducks his head, his face turning red.
“Yes,” I reply with an arched brow. I take the bow from him.
“There are a few places you’re going wrong.” I take him through the process and then walk around him as he holds his draw. I knock his elbow a little higher and widen his stance, then angle his shoulders.
“Aim and release.” He releases the arrow with a twang. It hits the target. Not exactly in the middle, but not a bad shot.
He turns to me with a beaming smile. “I think that’s the first time I’ve hit the target.”
“Practice what I’ve shown you,” I say.
“You have experience with this?” a voice calls. I turn and see Malir. He’s standing next to the commander I knocked out in the dome yesterday. The second commander is glaring at me - with his good eye anyway. I flash him a Frost grin.
There is no way to avoid answering and no way to deny it after my display with Adnan. “Some,” I say.
“You’re training with us for two weeks. Perhaps you could give us some tips.” He says it politely enough, but I know Malir well enough to sense this is an order.
I shrug. I don’t really want to help them improve when I know who they’ll be shooting at.
A movement catches my eye. Jovan has arrived and is standing at the bottom of the stairs. He’s grinning at my dilemma. I hold back my glare. Just.
“Two weeks isn’t nearly long enough to fix all of your mistakes.” The Watch grumbles at my words. Ice hides a smile behind his hand.
“Watch and learn,” I say, picking up the smallest bow I can find. I line myself up, rattling off instructions, just like Aquin used to do for me. I let loose the arrow and it hits the border of the bull’s-eye. I select a second arrow and repeat the process, but this time I hit the bull’s-eye in the center. I’m showing off now, but I’m excited I can shoot so well without my veil on. Usually I’m the one missing the target while Olandon pierces the center.
I barely aim the third arrow before releasing and hitting my target.
I turn around and roll my eyes at the men who haven’t moved. “You’re not going to get better by standing there!” I shoo them away and they scramble into their positions.
Malir takes over my orders. He’s been watching closely, and I worry as I see their shooting improve drastically.
“If I was trying not to laugh at your expression right now, I would thank you for showing my army how to shoot. It might come in handy.”
I don’t turn my head. “Their shooting is beyond pitiful.”
Jovan snorts and picks up a bow. He shoots with no more than a quick glance and hits the target. He throws a grin over his shoulder at me. I look up at the screaming females who have gathered on the walkway above to watch. I think one of them just fainted. Though, the King has some competition today. Half of them are lusting after Sin, who flexes his muscles for his genteel audience. I look back at Jovan as he shoots a second time. When he shoots you can see the muscles in his back and thighs tensing, too.
I look up and see he’s caught me watching. Shit. “This is too easy for you. You need moving targets,” I say, to cover my embarrassment.
I hurry to where the other archers are practicing. Wrath is a natural, so is Blizzard. I fix a couple of the other’s mistakes and then pick up a bow to join them. A warm body presses against my back. I stiffen and look over my shoulder.
Sin.
I give him a dry look. “You again. I thought you’d still be catching your breath after last night.”
He brushes his nose against mine. “Last night was amazing.” The others snigger.
“Don’t you twist my words. That is not going to happen.” I elbow him.
“What is this ‘that’ you refer to? I just thought you could use some tips on your shooting.” He grabs my hips and twists them around, then slides his hands up over my stomach.
“Sin, if I was going to get advice, it wouldn’t be from you.” I look pointedly at his almost empty target. A couple of the closer Watchmen laugh.
He keeps sliding his hands. It’s making me uncomfortable, but I keep my expression blank while I prepare to flatten him again. I’m saved the trouble. A large body stands in front of me.
King Jovan darts a hand out and grabs Sin around the neck. Just as he had with Gabel when I first came to the castle. My eyes widen.
“What is your name, scum?” he asks softly. I watch Shard put a hand across Fury’s chest to hold him back.
“Sin,” is his gasping reply. He doesn’t look so good when veins pop out of his face. I try to squeeze out from the middle of the two men, but Jovan rests his other hand on my shoulder.
“Well, Sin. Since you’re new here, you may not realize that when we are in the training yard, we train.” Sin gurgles. “Be sure to remember it.” He drops him and drags me off, out of earshot of the others.
“This is why we don’t train women,” he growls in my face.
“Oh, so it’s not because you think woman are weaker than men and you’re afraid they’ll be better than you?” I ask. He frowns at me. I continue. “It’s not my fault he did that. It’s just Sin. He does that to all the women. It’s nothing.”
Jovan snorts. “Believe me, he’s serious. And why aren’t you wearing the clothes I sent you?”
“Because you haven’t given any of the others new clothing!” I fist my hands to avoid the temptation to whack him. He is so frustrating! “They’ll see I’m getting preferential treatment.” I glance over my shoulder and see the others giving me odd looks. I step back, realizing we’re too close. “And, while we’re on that note, you need to back off. If you keep this up, people will guess we know each other. Go back to distant, broody Jovan.”
“Distant, broody Jovan?” he asks. I look at him suspiciously. As always, his face is blank, but his tone is too casual.
“It’s not funny,” I say.
The corners of his mouth twitch. I’m a little happy I managed to guess he was laughing at me. “You’re right. About the clothing. Not on the second count though. By paying you attention, I’m saving you from the other men,” he says.
“You are?” I ask dumbly. I look behind me. One taller assembly male catches my eye and winks. I consider smiling back at him to prove a point. “It seems to be working really well,” I say instead.
Jovan jerks me back around. “Exactly. So don’t entice them any more than your outfit already does for you.”
I bow as low as I can. “I live to serve, King Jovan.”
I enjoy his answering growl as I walk away.
Jovan has taken my advice about practicing on moving targets. I’m throwing pears for him in the training yard. I don’t know why he chose pears. He releases an arrow and the pear explodes in a wet burst. I glumly watch as the pieces splatter on the ground.
He scowls over his shoulder as Sin waves to the women on the walkway. Sin wears his new tunic and trousers which all the men received a few days ago. Though the other men don’t wear their tunics half open to show off the bruises around their necks. Sin has decided the marks are a sign of his devotion to me - proof of the endurance of his love. Really, he just likes to show off his body.
“Fucking idiot,” Jovan mutters. He starts to put down his bow, but stops as Malir approaches Sin and whacks him over the head with a bow.
Malir’s been quicker to deal with Sin, now that the Watch and the barracks aren’t breaking out into brawls all the time. It had been a tense week. Some of the Watch had friends murdered by Slay’s group in the dome, though most seem to realize we spared them when we could’ve done otherwise.
I hurl another pear. “You shouldn’t worry about Sin, you know. I’m sure the women still think you’re more attractive. You’re a King. That has to count for something.”
Jovan whips his head back toward me, his arrow missing the pear completely. “What?” he says.
I tilt my head, smiling to myself. “Never mind.”
He steps closer.
“No, what did you mean?” he demands. I see at least two curious men listening to our conversation.
I throw a pear into the air and then follow it with another to distract him. Surely one of his minions could do this job. This only makes me hungry and I want to practice. Plus, Blizzard’s been on my case every night about wasting food.
“Does it mean you find me more attractive than Sin?” he asks with a smirk.
I laugh, but my laughter dies when I see he’s serious. My cheeks warm. “I hardly think that’s appropriate,” I whisper, adding a meaningful stare. He’s acting too familiar, especially with others close by.
“You either do or you don’t,” he presses as his gaze flicks over me. It makes me feel as though I’m still in my harness costume.
I shrug. “Neither of you is attractive.” I don’t bother to conceal a grin at my offensive comment as I throw the next pear.
He arches a dark brown brow. “Lying again, I see.”
The grin slips off my face. “No, I’m not. You’re both too conceited for my taste.” I put down the pear and walk toward Shard, ignoring the booming laughter behind me. He can throw his own damn pears. Shard raises an eyebrow at my approach.
“Tell a good joke?” he asks.
I nod. “You know me. Frost the comedian,” I say. He laughs and strides beside me.
“You may want to know, Malir asked Wrath why you killed Butcher.” He keeps his voice low, glancing around us. I keep my attention on selecting an arrow from the drum.
“Oh?” I say and look at him over a fletching with a raised brow. “What are you asking, Shard?” His eyes twinkle. I put the arrow back.
“It’s nothing, just odd that you saved one commander, but had no qualms about knocking the other one out,” he says. I freeze at his next words. “Someone might think you knew Malir.” He passes me the arrows he’s selected. I take them automatically, my mouth dry.
“Which is why I stepped in to tell Malir that you had a personal background with Butcher. That you had been after him ever since,” he continues. “You might wish to stick to this story if asked.”
He knows I’m in up to my neck and I know he has my back.
“Thank you,” I whisper and move to squeeze his hand. He yanks away before I touch him.
“What did you do that for?” I ask. He grins, but it’s uneasy. He’s never pulled away before. Neither of us displays affection often, but when it’s offered, it’s always been accepted. He darts a look at the King who is shooting another pear.
“Touching you isn’t good for my lifespan. I think of you in the light of a sister. I want to make sure this is obvious to the giant man who can decide if I live or die,” he says. “You can squeeze my hand anytime you want. When he’s not around.” He jerks his head toward Jovan with another grin. It slides off when he discovers the King is now watching.
I groan. “Not you, too.” Shard chuckles as he moves away and toward Ice.
I walk with Crystal to the food hall that night. We no longer have guards. I guess we’ve proved we aren’t a threat. We turn through the archway and Crystal walks into someone’s back. I steady her as she bounces back. The “someone” is Ashawn, Jovan’s youngest brother. My heart twists only a little at his familiar blue eyes and carved face. But the reminder of Kedrick is not as bad as it once was.
He looks over Crystal’s head at me. “Frost, isn’t it?” he asks. Has he been waiting here for me to pass?
I give a short nod and try to keep my breath even. This is the closest I’ve ever been to Ashawn. There is no way his smile would be so genuine if he knew I’m the Tatuma.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. And a pleasure to have seen you fight,” he adds.
I raise my eyebrow. “In the dome or the pit?” I ask and immediately bite my tongue. That was not smart.
His answering smile is dashing and charming and I find myself wanting to smile with him. Kedrick had the same charisma, Jovan, too, when he uses it. Within Ashawn’s smile, I do detect some slight alarm.
“My, Miss Frost, in the dome, of course,” he replies.
“My thanks for the compliment, Prince Ashawn. Please excuse us,” I say and gesture Crystal ahead of me.
There is a commotion at our end of the hall. It seems Shard and Ice are the cause, though several of the Watch appear to have joined in.
“Girly! You gotta try this,” Ice yells. He catches a bit of fruit in his mouth. I shake my head at him and escape to get something to eat. I’m tossing up whether I can safely take a pear when someone sidles up beside me.
It’s Macy, Blaine’s wife. Timid Macy is braver than the tenacious people she sits with, the first female of the assembly to approach me yet.
“H-hello, Frost,” she says. I dip my head at her and continue picking up food, making sure to react in the opposite way to my instinctive response.
“I wondered if...I could ask you a question?” she asks, placing a large portion of meat on her plate. She follows this with two more hunks of meat. I doubt she’s aware of what she’s doing.
“Go ahead.” I’m burning with curiosity, but I make it sound like I’m doing her a massive favor.
“How would someone learn topunchlikeyou?” She speaks so quickly, it takes me a moment to comprehend her words. When I understand, I can hardly believe it.
“You want to fight? Why?”
She starts loading on bread rolls with shaking hands. I can’t help a wide-eyed glance as she adds this to her already decent pile. Macy follows my look down to her mass of food and blushes. “I had a plan – letters. But someone stole them. Now I have nothing. I can’t get away.” Her words spill out in a tumble.
My mouth dries. Letters? Is she talking about the urn of documents I took? My heart sinks.
Some of those letters are revolutions old. She’s been planning an escape from Blaine for so long and I ruined her carefully laid plans.
“Does this man hurt you?” I ask softly. She looks down at me with wide eyes and clamps her mouth shut. I hurry on, sensing her withdrawal.
“In my childhood, I was severely beaten. I know how it is to be hurt this way.”
“You do?” she asks. Tears welling in her eyes. I nod.
“Yes,” she whispers. “He h-hurts me.”
Blaine beat his own wife. Vile, disgusting excuse for a man. Why doesn’t Sole do something about it? He was the most timid of the delegates, or actually, of any Bruma I’d met, but it was his sister! Surely he could summon the courage to protect her. Jovan must not be aware of Blaine’s cruelty. I remember how he reacted to my beating. I’ve never experienced such tight fury on my behalf. Jovan would kill him - which wouldn’t be such a bad thing - but I knew from my own experiences Macy wouldn’t want her troubles advertised.
I put my plate down and grip her hand. “I don’t know of any place where a woman can learn to fight, but leave this with me. I’m sure there must be others who want the same thing, noble or otherwise. Perhaps something can be set up.”
She bobs her head up and down frantically. “I have money I’ve put aside. I can pay you! I just need a couple of moves to hold him back.”
I smile at her eagerness. Learning self-defense is a lot more complicated than she thinks. I doubt training her personally will fit into Jovan’s plans. But maybe I can get in touch with Alzona. She’s always looking to make money. “In the meantime, do you want me to deal with him?”
She makes a squeaking sound. It takes me a moment to realize it’s a laugh.
“No, he isn’t back for another month. I was hoping by then I could have learned a little,” she says.
“Macy,” someone calls out. “Stop talking to the trash, dear.” I look over my shoulder. Arla.
“Stop talking to the trash, dear,” I mimic under my breath. Macy laughs. A real laugh this time. I smile as her eyes light up. She should still be beautiful. Blaine has aged her prematurely. He’s made her forget happiness, taken away any liveliness. I can’t wait to make him pay.
“I do that, too,” she whispers. “Thank you.” She shuffles back to her position in front of the throne table.
I sit off to the side and listen as Blizzard rages about how many people could be fed with the food the others are wasting in their game. A tournament has started between the four tables around us, and our own. Something involving catching fruit in your mouth from changing distances. It looks kind of fun, but I can see Blizzard’s point. These men are already full and there are people in the Outer Rings who will starve to death tonight.
Blizzard nudges me, giving me a look. I relax my brow, realizing I am frowning. It’s too quiet. Why has everyone hushed? I swivel around.
Jovan is standing.
“We near the end of the First Sector,” he speaks. There is a groan. No one wants to leave the warmer weather of this time of revolution. ‘Warm weather’ is relative to Glacium. There is still a frost on the ground every morning. The King smiles. “But, it is not all bad news. As is tradition, there will be a ball at the end of the week.” The women cheer, the men groan.
“As Arla did such a good job last time, she will organize the festivities again.”
I snigger as I remember the lies I told her before I left the castle. The beautiful woman casts a coy look to Jovan. I snigger again when the intended target misses it completely.
“She makes me sick,” a woman whispers loudly. I look over and see it is Greta. I giggle and she gives me an uncertain smile.
“This ball will also act as a farewell for those of our Outer Ring guests who decide to return to their homes. Announcements will be made the day before for those who have been selected to join the Watch. Those who are asked will give their answer at this time,” he continues and looks down briefly at his fisted hands, which he is leaning on behind the throne table.
“As you know, I have been in war negotiations with Tatum Avanna on Osolis.”
My mouth dries. I thought the hall was silent before, but it wasn’t.
It is now.
The others at our table exchange hushed murmurs. Obviously, news of the possibility of war hasn’t reached farther, which I find strange. Shard and Ice don’t seem surprised, though.
“Unless a satisfactory peace agreement is reached on both sides by the end of the Second Sector, the assembly will be moved to the Sixth Sector instead of continuing on to the Third. This will enable the Watch to stay close to the Great Stairway,” he says.
The shouting starts.
“But we don’t even have the Tatuma anymore!”
“They’re the ones who killed Prince Kedrick!”
“That is all,” Jovan finishes.
I leave the hall straightaway, not trusting my face to remain emotionless with this news. Jovan must think war is eminent. Why else would he be planning this unusual shift back to the Sixth Sector?
I reach my room and pace. Unless Jovan is lying through his teeth, my mother is resisting all efforts at peace. It’s been months. Surely if peace were attainable, it would have been achieved by now. Twelve messages should have been exchanged in the year since Kedrick’s death. I scrunch my face, pausing briefly in my frantic movements. Actually, twelve didn’t seem like that many. Only six answers, six attempts at negotiations by each party.
Could a ruler decide they were going to war after so little communication? Maybe I’m panicking over nothing.
The door crashes open and Jovan bursts in.
I look up at the ceiling instead of glaring at him. “I see your manners haven’t improved at all. What if I was having a bath?” I ask.
“If you were having a bath, I would join you,” he shoots back.
I gasp at his rudeness. “You forget who I am, King Jovan. Do not talk to me like that.”
He glowers at me, his eyes searching the room. “You’re still here.”
I look around. Has he lost his mind? “Why wouldn’t I be?” I ask.
“I thought my news might make you run,” he says. “I’ve learned running is how you deal with things.”
I huff and fling myself backward on the bed. “For the last time, I wasn’t running back to Osolis! Why would I do it without the map? I don’t have a death wish.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
I groan. “Solis, you are so annoying,” I mutter under my breath and flop an arm over my eyes.
“What?” he asks. I don’t answer. The bed dips as he sits beside me. My skin prickles. Is he looking at me?
“If you weren’t trying to get back to Osolis, what did you find out about the assassin’s arrow?” he asks.
I lift my arm and look at him. Our close proximity on the bed is making me notice things about him I don’t normally notice. Like how his lips seem soft, though the rest of his face is all hard planes and chiseled features. And how some hair hangs across his forehead.
“Took you long enough,” I say. “I thought this would have been the first thing you asked me.”
“Unlike you, I’m not throwing myself into dangerous situations to find Kedrick’s killer. I think you’re a fool if you think my brother would have wanted you to die bent on revenge.” Ouch.
I swallow hard and break eye contact. “It was another dead end. Seedyr wood is only used to make spears for the very poorest of the Outer Rings. The weapons master I talked with said no one sold Seedyr wood arrows. There would be no point as the wood is easily broken.” I put my arm back over my face as I continue.
“The arrow was made by the assassin, and apart from knowing they must be poor, I have no further leads,” I mumble.
“You’ve had the arrow the whole time,” he guesses, in a low rumble.
“Yes.”
“You lied to me?”
He pulls my arm from my face and leans over me, his hair falling forward. I brush the silky strands off my cheek. I push at his shoulder and he sits back. “You can’t get angry at me for lying. You’ve lied to me, too.”
“When did I lie to you?” His expression goes blank. Its absence makes me realize how expressive he’s been since I’ve been back.
I put a finger on my lips. “Hmm, let’s see. How about when I asked you if there had been another message from Osolis before you left on tour.”
His cheeks redden.
“Jovan, what’s going on? Why didn’t you tell me before you told the assembly? I know you’re still angry at me, but I would have liked some warning.”
“I was unsure how you would react. I judged it best to tell you at the same time as the others. And I only lied because your mother made some…cruel remarks in the message. I did not want to repeat her words and hurt you.”
I shrug. “It wouldn’t be anything I haven’t heard before. What was it? ‘You can kill her if you want, it would save me the job’? ‘She’s been tainted by your world’?”
He looks at me with startled eyes. “Did you read the message?”
I laugh. “No, I just know my dear mother. Please tell me what is happening. Not knowing has been wreaking havoc on my mind for months.”
Jovan lies on the bed next to me. “Things are…not good. Your mother is demanding exuberant payment for the ‘insult’ of stealing you. She says she will take this in the form of a portion of land on Glacium.” He turns to give me a sheepish look. “I told her I was torturing you for information and you would be killed if she didn’t return with a more reasonable negotiation.”
I ponder this seriously. “Might have worked with a mother who loved her child,” I decide.
He raises his eyebrows and props his hands under his head. “So it seems. That was when I got her reply saying it was good riddance.”
“I doubt you’ll give her land. Will you give her money?”
Jovan snaps, “Of course not. My brother was killed on her fucking world! It seems she’s conveniently forgotten that.”
“It will be war then,” I say, disappointment coloring my voice. I sit up on the edge of the bed.
The King’s voice is tight. “Olina, I have tried my best. But I can only reason with a reasonable person.”
I nod and take a shaky breath. “I know. Believe me, I’m not blaming you. If anything, I blame myself. If I hadn’t tried to show Kedrick my face, none of this would have happened. Kedrick would still be alive and we wouldn’t be trembling on the edge of anarchy. It’s just. Now, there are people on both worlds I don’t want to see hurt. It’s conflicting and more than a little confusing.”
He sits up next to me, not touching me. “This war has never been about you. Kedrick’s death and your capture provided the perfect cover to mask the Tatum’s ulterior motive. Her true designs are now apparent, and you’ve become the scapegoat. If there is a war it will be because your mother is a greedy bitch, not for any other reason.” He grips my shoulders and squeezes. I don’t voice my disagreement. I just stare ahead of me, gaze unfocused.
“I must be one of these people on Glacium you don’t wish to see hurt,” he says. I ignore the stab in my gut at the thought. He’s teasing me, trying to distract me.
I roll my eyes. “I think you can take care of yourself.”
He gets up and clears his throat. “Will you be coming to the ball?”
I stand as well and lean against the pillar. “No.”
“What?” He turns to me. “But, you aren’t angry at me this time.” The day before the last ball, Jovan had been brutally furious when he found Rhone was going to show me how to work the sleds. His father had died in a sledding accident. Jovan had pinned me to the wall. I panicked and ran from him.
My cheeks heat. “I wasn’t angry at you last time, either. Well, maybe a little. I just didn’t want to dance with you. Or anyone really.”
He frowns, as he tries to recall.
“I would have rather danced with you than Arla,” he muses.
I speak before thinking. “How can you say that about the woman you’re sleeping with?” I ask. I don’t like Arla, she’s vicious and vain, but no woman sharing a man’s bed should be treated in this way.
He lets out a short laugh. “Who told you that? I haven’t slept with Arla in a long time.” He looks at me curiously, waiting for an answer.
“Uh...Arla did,” I say. He looks baffled for a few moments.
“Well, regardless, you won’t need to dance with me this time. You are Frost, not Olina at the moment,” he reminds me.
“Yes, but I don’t have a dress. Neither does Crystal.”
He groans. “Women. Why don’t you just go in that?” He gestures at my trousers and tunic.
“Can I?” I perk up. “I would rather wear this than the dresses you have here. Tiny scraps of nearly see-through cloth barely covering my chest and—” I cut off my description as the King’s eyes darken and he stalks forward. My eyes widen.
“Your friend, Crystal. She asked Sadra if she could be released before the ball to return to the Outer Rings.” His voice is unfocused. I wonder what he’s truly thinking of. But I smile. Crystal will be eager to return to Alzona.
“I’ll have the dress brought to you,” he says finally.
“What? I thought I was allowed to wear this,” I say.
He grins over his shoulder. “No, I’ve changed my mind.” He slams the door behind him. I run over to tug on it. The door doesn’t move, locked again.
I swear I hear muffled laughter on the other side.