It came on in the throne room, the halls, and even now. It came about when others spoke—when I spoke, but why?
I said it didn’t matter. I said he was standing too close to me. What did that have to do with anything?
“I’m the princess of Bailoc. I want a human life,” I whispered.
Nothing happened.
“I hate my blonde hair.”
Nothing still.
“I don’t care about Fyn. He can go back to Nythrel.” The feeling returned. It burrowed deep inside of me, threatening me.
“Perhaps I care too much.” The moment I said it the feeling vanished.
I collapsed my head into my hands.
Whatever it was—it wasn’t good.
CHAPTER TWENTY
ASHLYN
Asharp swing of the gilded door sent me bolting upright on the sofa.
Eva’s soft features sharpened into focus as I rubbed my eyes.
I had only stared at the ceiling for a moment or two before I dozed off.
“Princess Ashlyn, the feast for your arrival starts in an hour. Lord Fyn asked me to check on you,” she said. “He said you might not be feeling well.”
I waved her in. “I didn’t mean to sleep for so long.”
“I heard you had quite the journey here,” she said.
My back stiffened. “From Lord Fyn?”
“Yes.” She went for the wardrobe. “He said it was several days on horseback.”
I forced a smile. “It was most tiring.”
I waited for the pull, for the strange sensation to fill me at anything I said—at anything she said. Maybe it was simply my exhaustion.
Maybe I’d be fine after all.
She held out two gowns. Each were dyed with vibrant pigment—sapphire and emerald.
“The hues are extraordinary.” I ran my fingers over the silks. Both were smoother than anything I had ever touched.
“Color is deeply embedded into our culture. The marketplace is filled with every shade imaginable.”
My fingers trailed the smooth fabric of the bold blue gown. “This one is stunning.”
“Blue it is, then,” she said.
“I should very much like to see the marketplace. Do you think it could be arranged?”
“You could ask Prince Soren. Prince Kilan’s wife, Princess Novena, frequents it often.”
