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She wondered if he noticed her tells, too, and if she wanted that.
Of course I don’t,she thought bitterly.Why would I ever want anyone to see my weaknesses?
Someone knocked on the door, and a placid face topped by nut-brown curls appeared in the doorway. Dillon.
“She’s waiting in the great hall,” he reported.
“Well, it would be rude to keep her waiting…” said Hawthorn, pulling on his gold-tipped boots very slowly indeed.
Dillon bit back a laugh, and held open the door for them. Hawthorn strolled out with all his usual confidence, but Juliana wasn’t fooled. His hand was twitching by his side.
Another girl, another person who knew him as well as she did, who was softer and kinder, might have been tempted to take that hand.
But she wasn’t kind or soft.
And she was afraid.
Lucinda met them in the great hall in a creamy, layered gown that shook with butterflies. If she’d been beautiful as a girl of fourteen, she was monstrously, hideously beautiful now. Her skin held the radiance of a rosebud draped in morning dew, shimmering beneath the sun. Her red-gold hair was bright as jewels and glittered under the light. A glamour, or a powder, surely, but it didn’t matter. It clung to her like stardust. Juliana tried to remind herself of her own worth, fingers tightening on the hilt of her sword as proof. It did not work. She felt like an insect in the shadow of a giant.
Wisely, Lucinda had returned without her mother—only a guard and a couple of ladies’ maids, who twittered and fussed as Hawthorn entered the room, sweeping into low bows.
Hawthorn strolled across the room and arranged himself in his throne, legs dangling over the armrest. His mother, already seated, glared but said nothing.
“Lucinda,” he drawled. “No doubt you have some fascinating reason for being here.”
“Need I have a reason for visiting an old friend?”
Hawthorn’s lips pursed. “We did not part as friends.”
Lucinda’s eyes drifted towards Juliana, standing stiffly beside Hawthorn’s throne. Her eyes settled on her face. It occurred to Juliana that she probably hadn’t heard who was serving as his guard—it would not be news to the rest of the courts.
“Indeed,” she said crisply. “But that was a long time ago.”
“Why are you here, Lucinda?”
“I wanted to speak to you,” she returned. “To get to know you again. We may not—“
“Opportunities may be thin on the ground for the next a hundred years, or so I hear. Understandable.” He glanced around at the meagre congregation. “Well? You are here now. Talk.”
Lucinda’s eyes darted around the company. “I… I find I am a little on the spot, Your Highness. I had hoped…”
“For what?”
“A more private audience.”
“I can understand that,” he said, with a cruel smirk, “but alas, I get into all sorts of trouble when I am left alone. I have to take my guard with me almost everywhere.” He gestured to Juliana. “You remember dear Jules, I suppose?”
“I have some memory.”
“She’s really blossomed over the years, wouldn’t you agree?”
Juliana’s cheeks heated. Why was he bringing her into it?
Lucinda’s eyes narrowed, only a fraction. “Yes,” she responded, jaw stiff.
“You should see her with a sword. Her skill is unparalleled.”
At this, Juliana frowned. How could he say that? Miriam or her father could beat her in an instant. Surely he knew this?
