From the corner of her eye, JingYi noticed Aliz still waiting a respectful distance back.
“Thank you, Aliz. That will be all,” she said with a smile.
The girl curtsied and slipped out, the door closing softly behind her.
“What do you think of Aliz?” Yrenna asked once they were alone, moving to sit on the chair near the hearth. “Do you like her? I thought, since she’s also an Omega, you might feel less lonely with her attending you.”
“She seems earnest,” JingYi said, slipping into the chair across from her. “Thank you for being so thoughtful. I’ve never been around other Omegas much before.”
“I assume the chance is rare,” Yrenna said kindly, “when only one woman in a thousand is born an Omega.”
Rare. Scarce. In another land, it might mean reverence, protection. In Xûen-Sarai, it meant conscription into His Majesty the Emperor’s harem.
JingYi cleared her throat. “I am sorry I left supper early. I—” She searched for the right words. “I was tired.”
“You must be. But you looked well at supper.” Yrenna smiled. “Poised. Though I imagine you didn’t feel it.”
“It’s easy to seem composed when one wears a veil.”
“Mmm. Sometimes I wishIcould wear one,” Yrenna replied with a dry smile. “Especially when Lord Fortier graces us with his presence.”
JingYi tilted her head. “Does he make you uncomfortable too?”
A soft laugh escaped Yrenna, but an agitated flush bloomed on her cheeks. “Sometimes,” she admitted. Then, quieter, “Most of the time.”
JingYi watched as Yrenna absently twisted a bracelet around her wrist, thumbs brushing over the worn silver in a small, circular rhythm. A self-soothing gesture JingYi recognized all too well.
“That can’t be easy,” she said, her gaze still on Yrenna’s hands. “To have to weather his attention. Especially when Lord Fortier?—”
“Acts as though he owns Blackwood-Veyrde?” Yrenna finished, fingers going still. She looked up, her expression easing into something rueful. “And therefore, all of us?”
Jing Yi pressed her lips together. “Has Alexander made it clear to him that any interest in you—if he harbours it—is unwelcome?”
Yrenna shook her head. “I do not wish to trouble my brother when he has so much to worry about.” She rose from the chair and moved toward the hearth, warming her hands. “His relationship with Lord Fortier is tenuous as it is, what with him overseeing the limyerite mines. And with House Wulfbane’s current standing . . .”
JingYi stilled. She knew Alexander carried his House with dignity, but the evidence spoke of strain: Lornhelm lacked a healer, Parandor showed no polish, and the family’s ancestral mines were held by Lord Fortier. For a House of high standing, these were significant losses.
Yrenna sat, her bright gaze returning. “Let’s not dwell on grim matters. Tomorrow’s ceremony begins at sunset. It will be glorious. Romantic, too. We’ll draw another bath for you after midday, so you’ll have plenty of time to dress and prepare.”
She hesitated, her voice softening. “Would you prefer help with your bath, or would you rather have . . . privacy? I know Alexander dismissed your ladies-in-waiting, but we could always call them back?—”
The thought of LánYàn, RenHua, and MeiYün crowding her in this room,attendingto her, their eyes cataloging every scar and vulnerability, sent a cold shiver through her. “I’d like to bathe alone, if that’s allowed.”
“Of course,” Yrenna said at once. She gestured toward a woven cord by the carved privacy screen. “If you change your mind, just pull. Someone will come.”
She paused, studying JingYi. “Would it help if I told you what to expect tomorrow?”
JingYi’s mind, which had been skittering like a leaf in the wind, went still. Knowledge was a form of armour. “Yes, please.”
“It’s quite simple,” Yrenna said. “Offerings at Luneth’s temple, vows at Solthar’s, then a procession back here for the feast. We don’t do much pomp in Blackwood-Veyrde, but it will be beautiful.”
JingYi could picture it already—limyerite torches, autumn air, the hush of a crowd.
And eyes.
“The people will want to look at you,” Yrenna went on, gentler now. “The king named this a union to steady Blackwood-Veyrde, and your presence tells them their lord stands in the crown’s favour again. Don’t let Lord Fortier’s silly words take that from you.”
The name pricked, but the steadiness in Yrenna’s face held.
