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Chapter Thirty-Two
Aika
The sun hasn’t quite risen yet, and I’m careful to sneak around the gates of the estate and into the bushes beneath my window. Once I know it’s clear, I begin the arduous task of scaling the wall.
The motion tugs at the scrapes on my hand, but the promise of Mother’s healing tonic in my room propels me upward. A few moments later, and I’m in without a sound.
I have just enough time to down the liquid, remove my bandages, hide them behind my pillow, and muss up the bed before my door bursts open.
Mother cocks her head to the side like a predator. “Have you gone deaf?”
With all the ease I can muster, I hide my still-healing hands behind my back and stuff down the fear that’s beginning to creep up my spine. She told me to be more careful, and yet, here I am. Standing before her with my hands and leg still bleeding, waiting for the tonic to kick in before she notices.
“No, Mother.” I force contrition into my voice.
“Then why did I have to call for you more than once?” She continues without waiting for an answer. “Honestly, Aika. One useless daughter is quite enough.”
I focus on the tingling of the tonic stitching my skin back together, so my features don’t so much as twitch an eyebrow at her comment about Mel.
She isn’t nearly angry enough to account for my being out all night. She isn’t demanding explanations or throwing me in the dungeons.
Can it actually be that she doesn’t know?
“Yes, of course. I apologize, Mother.” I hide the relief I feel by turning to face the washbasin and dipping my tingling hands into the water.
I watch as the last bit of skin heals over without so much as a scar, not that it would matter when my hands are covered with the evidence of a rough childhood in the slums.
The cool water feels good enough on my skin that I splash it on my face as well, wiping away some of the grime that’s settled there.
Mother doesn’t acknowledge my words, only launches into the details of what our day will hold while I dry my skin with a plush towel.
A final fitting for my ball gowns, the torturous removal of nearly all of my body hair, and one last rundown to be sure we know everything there is to know about everyone who will be in attendance.
She shoves a piece of parchment into my hand. “Memorize this.”
The cramped page is filled with names. Somehow, she’s obtained a list of the guests, the servants, and even the guards.
Guards.
I urgently rescan the list, my eyes painstakingly raking over each name, but his name isn’t here. The sinking feeling crashing over me doesn’t feel quite as much like relief as it should.
Which is ridiculous, because if Remy recognizes me, his moral compass will never allow me to marry the prince he’s sworn to protect.
“Is there a problem?” Mother arches a perfectly shaped eyebrow.
I relax my features. There’s no reason to suspect I’ll run into a random city guard in my capacity as a royal.
“Sorry, I was just thinking about how I could possibly get close to the prince with all of the other ladies there. I’m trying to run through everything I know about him so that I can have the upper hand.”Lies.
Her violet eyes narrow. “I’ve already told you, the queen and I have an arrangement, unless you doubt me.” Her hand darts up to grab my face, her nails digging into my cheeks like talons. “Or is it I who should be doubting you?”
Tension stretches between us like a fiddle string wound too tightly, poised to snap at the first touch of the bow.
I can’t shake my head in her iron grip, so I settle for forcing words out, though my jaw is clamped together. “Of course not, Mother.”
“See that I have no reason to, then. I don’t expect to explain myself again.” She drops her hand and spins around, leaving me to collect myself on shaking legs.
After last night, I wasn’t sure I could feel things like fear or relief anymore, so I am surprised when both wash over me in alternating waves. Taking a deep, steadying breath, I finish readying myself for the day she has laid out.
