I locked it from the inside, then leaned back against it and looked around the room that would be my temporary home…and realized someone had been in here since I’d been taken to the bath.
My boots and the coin pouch were still on the small side table. When I hefted the latter, I found it heavier than it had been before. A handful of gold coins, shiny and clean, waited inside it. Payment, I assumed, for staying in the palace.
There were other changes, too. Curtains had been pushedback to reveal a bit of the palace grounds and a high gazebo beside a gleaming lake. A new pile of blankets and furs was draped across the end of the bed. A golden vase reflected the slanting afternoon light in one corner beside a beautiful chair, the wood entirely carved with animals—including a fox curled beneath a flowering tree. And on the opposite wall, an enormous embroidered tapestry nearly reached all the way to the ceiling and stretched from one glass window to the other.
He must have asked them to do this when I’d agreed to stay—to add these things to make it feel more comfortable. I didn’t want that; it weakened the wall I was desperately trying to build.
I sat down on the bed and ran my fingers across the silk blanket. How was I supposed to get used to this? And when this strange dream was over, how was I supposed to return to my usual life?
There was a knock at the door, and I rose to answer it, expecting to find someone with a tray. I didn’t know when I’d last eaten.
I unlocked the door. There was a tray, but Wren was the one holding it, wearing her usual wry expression, but with relief obvious in her eyes. Galen and the prince stood behind her.
Wren’s eyes went wide. “You’re wearing a dress.”
“Hello to you, too. I’m wearing the garment I was offered.”
“It’s lovely,” the prince said. “You look lovely.” And even if he’d said it only to be polite, there was no mistaking the appreciation in his eyes.
Wren sneered and moved inside. I took the tray before she tossed it at him, carried it to the side table, and pulled a chunk from a round of brown bread. “Sorry, but I think I haven’t eaten in a very long time.”
“Eat,” the prince said as Galen closed the door.
I nodded, chewing the best bread I’d ever had. It was so good that I immediately swore never to tell Nheve that I’d tasted it; the comparison would be unfair.
Wren looked around the room, then at me. And moved closer. “How are you feeling?”
“Weak.” I held up the bread. “Working on it.”
“You look pale,” she murmured, then pulled a small wooden box from her tunic. “I know there was Aether, but I wasn’t sure what other remedies you might need, so I brought a few things.”
I swallowed. “Thank you.” There was a small jar of wine on the tray she’d carried in. I took a sip, then offered it to her.
She sniffed, sipped, and lifted a shoulder. “Not as good as Savaadh’s.”
“It’s the best in Carethia,” Galen said.
“That’s not the compliment you think it is,” Wren said.
Galen’s lip curled impressively. “I don’t like you.”
“Then it’s two against one,” Wren said. “We don’t like you either.” As I dipped a spoon into a stew of meat and vegetables, Wren dismissed Galen with a look that might have sliced open a weaker man. Then she turned to the prince. “The Lady said you’re paying her to let Fox stay here.”
“It was the easiest way to get permission.”
“She loves coin,” Wren agreed. “But the practitioner still wants to kill you. What’s your security?”
“Other than the forty-foot wall?” The prince’s voice was dry.
“And if the practitioner uses possessed humans to get inside?” Wren asked.
“He’d need an army,” the prince said.
“You had an entire army in the market,” Wren pointed out, “and Innis still made it to the carriages.”
“They didn’t yet know a possessed human was a potentialthreat. Now they do. If he made it past the gate, there are dozens of guards before he’d get to me, and they’d sound the alarm.” He glanced at me. “Let’s not forget who bested him the first time—or that she’s now one of my people.”
“I’m not one of your people,” I said, swallowing stew. “I’m one of my people, and you’re giving me coin. And you’re right. The practitioner doesn’t have the people to get in here. Yet.”
