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“No, the mortal one.”
She rolled her eyes. “I hope you didn’t show him that awful attitude of yours.”
I sat on the bed, kicking off my shoes. She never could take a joke, mostly because she couldn’t understand the idea that I could be funny. But judging by the way Beric bore my humor, she may have been right in a way—this position was far too serious to take anything lightly, and yet humor may be the only tool I’d have to survive it.
“He wanted to meet me before we appear together at court,” I said. It was easy to lie to Anise—I’d been doing it all my life, to keep my aunt and uncle from punishing me over minor things, to have a bit of peace in a life of constant badgering. Yes, lying to Ann was simple.
Lying to the king and queen, however …
“Speaking of court…” Anise opened the wardrobe, revealing more fine dresses than I’d ever seen in my life. “I hope these fit. Perhaps I’ll make do for now and have my dresses at home sent for.”
“These are finer than you have at home.”
“Yes, but those fit me properly. These can only be made to fit.”
They were the knight’s dresses, not hers, and if anyone should be worried about whether or not they fit it should’ve been me. “I’m not entirely sure this is the sort of thing a Royal Squire would wear anyway.”
Anise glared at me. “Do you expect me to wear rags?”
I sighed. “Not rags, but—”
“I’m trying to trap a husband, not look like a servant.”
“But you are a servant.”
Her glare intensified.
“As far as everyone knows, you’re a squire.”
“Just because you insist on dressing plainly doesn’t mean that all squires do.” Insist on dressing plainly? When my aunt would buy me no other fabric but? Anise turned her nose up at me, going back to admire the dresses. “Besides, if you keep your mouth shut about the whole squire thing, I can get by at court and snag a suitor before the end of the night. My prospects as a knight are far greater.”
“You were already introduced to the queen as my squire,” I said. “If you change the story now we’ll both be in trouble.”
“Well, at least I’ll have a noble husband by then.”
As usual, she didn’t care how her reckless choices would affect me.
My mind whispered a desperate prayer to the ceiling. Even in this attempt to leave and make my own life, my family was still meddling with my happiness. If I got thrown out of this position because of my cousin …
Well. I didn’t know what I would do. Move to the continent maybe. Or Scotland. Get away, like I wanted to in the first place.
But Anise was here, and I only had myself to blame. I would have to find a way to clean up her messes, like I always did.
If I wanted any kind of happiness, I would have to help her find a husband.
There was a knock at the door, and two women entered. I smiled, recognizing the princess immediately. The other woman was taller, with a stern, appraising expression.
“And what are you doing in the Royal Knight’s chambers?” she asked me.
“Lady Calliope.” The princess stepped forward quickly, and when I tried to curtsy, she took my hands and kissed each one before scowling at her companion. “She is our new knight, Faline.”
The woman’s face went a bit pale. “Forgive me, my lady.”
“I do look a bit of a mess,” I said, granting her a forgiving smile and a shrug. Servants had it hard enough without me turning molehills into mountains. “But I have no doubt you’ll make me look like a Royal Knight in no time.”
She nodded, smiling a bit proudly. “No one does hair better than I, my lady. You’ll be the envy at court.” She went directly to the wardrobe, her smile dropping as she looked Anise over. “And who is this one?”
“My cousin,” I said. “Anise Bailey. She’s my squire.”
