It’s so well done, I’d almost clap, if I wasn’t about to be sacrificed.
“It’s not like that,” she finally says. “I—”
“It sounds exactly like that. You’ve won. You barely even had to lift a finger. All that talk about finding another court….”
“Vi—”
“Don’t.” We both know anything that comes from her mouth next is insincere. She can afford to be gracious. “You’re Mother’s heir. That’s all that matters.”
My mouth tastes like ash. What am I going to do? When I return in three months’ time—if I return—what am I coming back to?
It’s unwise for a princess of the blood to remain in another’s court. It creates too many opportunities for politicking nobles. Too many pathways to dissent. I’ll always be a knife held to my sister’s throat unless….
Unless I disappear.
“Vi, there are things you don’t know.” She finally looks at me.
More cursed secrets. I’m starting to realize how peripheral I am to Mother’s court.
“All these little secrets,” I murmur, twitching at my cloak. “It’s starting to make the skin between my shoulder blades tickle.”
“You’ll understand, one day.”
“Oh, I think I understand now.”
Andraste’s gaze drops to the hem of my skirt, and her eyebrows hit her hairline. “You’re not wearing the dress Mother had made for you.”
My fingers brush against the midnight-dark silk that caresses my legs. Tiny pinprick diamonds are woven throughout the fabric, so it seems as though a cloak of pure night clings to my body. “I thought the white lace seemed a touch too virgin sacrifice. This suits me better.”
“Where did you find it?”
“Find it?” Andraste spends most of her time in hunting leathers. I’d have thought fashion would have been the last thing my sister would ever willingly discuss. “I had it made on a whim several weeks ago. It seemed a little more fitting for the night.”
The faintest of smiles plays about Andraste’s lips. “Has Mother seen it?”
“Not yet.”
I can’t explain why I withheld the dress. Only a gnawing sense the queen will not approve.
Andraste laughs. “Oh, I can’t wait to see her face when she does. Wait until the last moment to reveal it, or she’ll strip you to your skin.”
The precise thought I’d had. For a second, some of the old camaraderie we’d once shared whispers in the night.
Of course, she’s happy. You won’t be around to block her path to being named princess-heir.
My smile dies on my lips.
Only three minutes separate the pair of us, and from the moment we were birthed into the world, we were inseparable. I remember rolling in the grass as children, chasing demi-fey through the trees, stealing into Mother’s chambers and trying on her jewelry and her crowns….
I don’t know where it all went wrong.
I can’t remember a single fight or betrayal that tore us apart. It was a slow creep of realization, I suppose. Leaving childhood behind and realizing my sister was now my competitor.
It was one of my tutors who pointed out the future to me. I’d never wanted the crown. Andraste could have it for all I cared, but my hob tutor had slapped his cane on the desk in front of me one day when I wasn’t paying attention and snapped that if I didn’t focus on my lessons, then my future was bound to be short and inconsequential.
She’d never hurt me, I protested.
But every ball, I’d see the pair of us on display. Nobles would circle around us, and I realized Andraste was making her own little court.
It soon became clear she was the favorite. The one who began to be seated at Mother’s right hand on the dais. The one who was asked for advice in Mother’s Round Chamber. The doors would close in my face, and I’d see my sister through them, shooting me a sad, apologetic look.
It’s been years since I’ve seen that expression.
The sister I knew is gone, replaced by this hard, implacable woman. Though she wears no crown, the circlet of braids reminds me of a coronet every time I see it.
“You should make the most of it,” she finally says.
“My three months in Evernight?”
“Yes.”
I give an incredulous laugh. “I think you’ve been drinking too much elderberry wine, sister.”
“Perhaps it won’t be so bad.”
Won’t be so bad? “Which part?” My voice roughens. “The part where I’m handed over to a monster? The part where I have to bargain for my safety?”
For a moment, Andraste looks like she wants to tell me something.
Then the queen stalks toward us, surrounded by her advisors and guard. The moment’s lost.
“Are you ready?” she demands of both of us, though I know she’s looking at me.
I can’t help myself.
Some part of me always has to challenge her.
So I step forward and brush the cloak from my shoulders, where it falls in a spill around my skirts.
The queen’s face hardens when she sees the dress. For a second, rage ignites her magic, and glints of pure gold streak through her irises.
Defiance is her least favorite attribute.
But it’s too late now.
I arch a brow in her direction. “I don’t want him thinking how nice the red dress looks against my skin, and the white gives the impression I’m some pure little dove ripe for the plucking. Considering I don’t have any chain mail in my wardrobe, I settled on the least offensive option.”
“Oh, Iskvien.” Her jeweled claws capture my chin, the heat of her magic banking in her eyes. “Why must you always defy me?”
“Because I want to make my own destiny, Mother.”
“You’ve already made it,” she whispers, the claws biting into my skin. “And now, you can lie in your bed and bear the consequences.”
“Mother,” Andraste murmurs.
They share a look, and I hate the fact they’re clearly communicating something I don’t understand.
“Let Vi wear what she likes,” Andraste says. “There are too many witnesses.”
There’s no time for the queen to punish me for the transgression. Trumpets blare, and a malicious whispering wind suddenly springs through the trees, announcing the arrival of another court.
The queen lets me go, her spine straightening.
