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Realizing he is nowhere to be found, she tightens her grip on the leather, deciding to keep the item under her protection until they meet. She navigates the interior quickly, hurrying up the stairs and down the long hall until she enters her bedchamber.

Only a few of the chandeliers are lit, casting a dim glow in the dark chamber. Annie is by the bed, arranging the sheets, and turns when Elara enters. She greets Elara with her usual kind smile. “Greetings, Your Highness.”

Quickly, Elara hides the items behind her back, her fingers locking around the leather in a tight grip. Nonetheless, she forces herself to return Annie’s smile. “Greetings, Mistress Annie,” she says. “I would love for you to grant me time to bathe.”

Annie nods with understanding. “Absolutely, Your Highness. Bathe as long as you wish. I will remain here and wait for you.”

Elara’s expression softens before she steps into the bathing chamber. She brings the notebook around and presses it against her chest to prevent Annie seeing it. Having it so close sends a shiver down her spine, like it might hold filthy secrets. Perhaps they do.

She places them by the wide, dark marble sink. Elara stares at the booklet as she pulls on the laces at the back of her dress. Why is she being so protective of it? Is it simply because it contains Cael’s innermost thoughts? Or is it because she recognized the panic on his face when he caught her looking at it yesterday? She, of anyone, knows the desperation of locking secrets away.

Forcing her thoughts away from the imposing book, she steps into the bathing chamber and sets the volume down upon the counter. She tests the water, her brow furrowing upon finding it entirely too cold, but she refuses to call for Annie to fix it. The process would take far too long, and she is simply too exhausted to wait. A breath of weariness escapes her lips as she undresses and forces herself to sink into the bath, trying to forget the prince she regrets assuming was cruel.

Elara leans her head back against the edge of the tub, staring up at the ceiling of dark paint and silver designs. She feels the booklet staring at her, tempting her to let secrets spill onto her palms when she should be protecting their privacy.

The cold water aches against her body, but she submerges her face and hair before rising to step out. Her teeth chatter as she dries herself with a cloth, slipping into the folded nightgown from the shelf beneath the sink. Grabbing her green silk dress, her damp fingers caress the smooth material.

Grasping the dress in her palms, she prepares to exit the bathing chamber before realizing it is too dangerous to leave the prince's booklet exposed to Annie. Moving with hurried anxiousness, she shoves the volume beneath a small stack of folded towels on a low shelf. The dark leather binding remains visible, but she lets out a long breath, wiping her palms against her nightgown before stepping out into the main chamber. Annie sits on the edge of the bed, her head turned toward the night outside and the soft murmur of the wind.

“Mistress Annie,” Elara says gently.

Annie startles at the sound of Elara’s voice, her frame tightening as she dips into a hasty bow. Straightening once more, she looks at the princess. “I apologize,” she says, her eyebrows furrowing. “Your hair, Your Highness. It is not entirely wet.”

“Yes, the water was too cold for my liking,” Elara admits, displeased by the discomforting chill.

“I understand,” Annie smiles, guiding Elara to her chair. She lifts the hairbrush, gently working through only the damp strands to avoid snagging the dry ones at the top of her head.

Silence pesters within Elara’s ears, broken only by the rhythmic stroke of the brush through her hair.

“Your Highness, I apologize,” Annie says, her voice lowering.

Shoulders tensing, Elara studies Annie’s reflection in the mirror. “For what, Mistress Annie? There is nothing to apologize for.”

“I can sense your discomfort toward me,” Annie admits. “I was a regular woman who cleaned the palace along with the others, but His Majesty found me suitable to care for you because of my supposed enthusiastic personality.” A brief pause slows her movements. “You can always request another mistress.”

“That is unacceptable,” Elara says, her tone firm but not unkind as guilt stirs within her. “It is not you. You are a sweet person, and I apologize for causing you to think such a thing. You are a wonderful woman.”

Annie’s expression softens. “I appreciate it, Your Highness. I appreciate your company, patience, and understanding.”

Guilt swallows Elara. She looks away from her reflection in the mirror, tracing her nail along a grain in the wood of the vanity. Thoughts of Walker and her mother tighten her throat. She swallows hard to force the emotion back down before it can overcome her composure.

“This entire thing reminds me of someone important,” Elara confesses, not offering more. “I do not know how to process this. The new environment and the laws, it is different.”

Annie inclines her head. “I imagine so. I cannot exactly understand the burden you are feeling. You are not only a new princess in a new kingdom, but you have left behind things you love.” She continues to brush through her hair. “Perhaps someone too, and you have to endure it all.”

Elara’s fingers curl into her nightgown. “Yes.”

Annie sets the brush down upon the vanity and squeezes Elara’s shoulder. She offers a smile that reveals an understanding of loss. “I promise you are not alone,” she says. “Princess Kaera is impeccably kind. She defends every innocent person she sees. Especially us, the women who work here. His Majesty is a gentleman and he is known for his warm heart. I am here because of him.” Her smile warms. “His Highness is…” She pauses.

“Is silent,” Elara completes her sentence. “He is rather confusing, even to me. Maybe he is bad or not.”

“Oh, never bad,” Annie shakes her head vigorously. “He is kind and hardworking, just like His Majesty. But he mostly works outside of the palace, and I am occupied with my own duties here.”

“And the Queen?” Elara asks, rather hoping for an entire bucket of information about Queen Maereth’s character. “How is her character, and how does she seem in the palace?”

Annie’s smile fades, and her expression shifts. “Well, Her Majesty is kind too.” Her words do not match her mumbled tone, or the way she suddenly avoids Elara's eyes.

Elara is unconvinced, though she does not push the matter, recognizing that Annie has reached the limit of what she will say. “I appreciate your honesty and the help,” she says, biting the inside of her cheeks before standing to give Annie a genuine smile. “It is getting late, and sleep is overcoming me.”