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Terry takes the letter and carefully unfolds it. Parts of it are still damp, so she’s extra careful not to tear the parchment, though a piece does split and she winces. Spreading it out, she blows a gentle breath over the ink as if to dry it, then studies the letter for a moment.
Now that I’ve spent so much time in the prince’s bedchambers and seen him take messages, and even been perched on his lap and drinking coffee as he reads his letters, I recognise now that Terry is a slow reader. Very slow. There isn't but one line of words on that message, but she takes as long as Daein does reading an entire scroll.
Impatient, I start wrapping coals in cloth as she reads.
I’ve already started dragging the coals down strands of my curls when Terry finishes with a huff. She reaches out the letter to a candle burning on the vanity table. She lets it flitter away to flames and ash before she turns on me.
Taking the coals out of my hand, she murmurs, “You’re not doing it right. You’re loosening all the curls.”
But that is how I like it. Just not exactly howthe princelikes it.
“So,” I start as she winds my hair around a smaller coal. “What did it say?”
Her mouth thins.
I watch her closely in the mirror facing us.
“Do you really want to do this, April?” She sighs, moving for another curl to dry. “If you run, he’ll kill you.”
“He’ll kill me if he finds out I’m pregnant.”
Her face pales to the shade of bleached parchment. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
She still hasn’t said very much about this child since I told her in all my tears. It took all of my willpower not to spill out the truth to Hilda too. She has that mother’s touch. But I only confided in Terry.
She offered little advice. Only grim faces and uncertain looks.
“What did it say?” I press.
With a huff, she meets my expectant gaze in the reflection. “Meet at the same place seven Quiet’s from now.”
My heart clenches, as though an icy fist has seized it.
It’s exactly what I hoped for. What I wanted. And it gives me time.
But then...
It’s happening.
There’s no turning back now. Even if I don’t show up, and plant all my hope on Daein accepting me and the child, the iilra made it clear that they would intervene with or without my help.
Besides, it’s not like Daein will suddenly be comfortable with my situation, wrap his arms around me and make it all ok.
Terry finishes up my hair and combs my curls down my back. They are longer now, healthier, but grown much more than they should have in little over two months.
I look down at my belly in the mirror. The satin clings to its bulging shape, and I realise that it’s much bigger than it should be.
Time moves differently in this realm.
How much time do I have before the prince realises that I’m not simply overeating? How much time do I have before the birth comes?
Maybe I will survive the childbirth long enough to meet him.
It’s ahim.
I decided that in my dreams of a small boy running around the castle grounds before Daein cuts him down.
I carry the ghosts of those dreams with me down to the Hall when the guests arrive. I meet them at the table—Cliff (a royal cousin) and Coralie (his kuri wife), and I wonder if Daein invites kuris over for my sake.
