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This isn’t him. This isn’t him.
Closing my eyes, I reminded myself of the ways I’d pretended back home when the cutting words of others had hurt, and I’drefused to let them see. The complacency I’d settled on my face. The distant places I’d let my mind wander. Once, I’d gone back to times when my stepfather had been alive and home had felt safe and loving, or I’d daydreamed about the next dress I’d create.
This time, I was back in Garrick’s arms, cradled against his chest and listening to his heartbeat as we huddled together for warmth in that cave, back when we’d still been on the run from Preston and Nerissa. I was under the stars again, studying the constellations, listening to Garrick share their stories. I was training with him, learning how to defend myself while silently appreciating his smooth, graceful movements, all the while knowing that as long as I was near him, I was safe.
I tensed every muscle in my body against the pain growing in my back, not wanting Preston to see me tremble or flinch away. More blood trickled down my back, wetting the end of my ruined tunic. I counted breaths, trying to keep the memories in the forefront of my mind, warm and soothing and vivid.Someday those memories will be my life again,I vowed.
At last, Garrick released me, and I turned, holding my tunic to keep it from falling off my shoulders as I peered at Preston defiantly. I couldn’t tell from the look in his cold eyes if he was satisfied or angry at my lack of reaction. Out of the corner of my eye, Garrick breathed heavily as the bloody knife and his shoulders slumped forward. I refused to glance at him to gauge his reaction or see if Preston still controlled him. Devastation or indifference—I wasn’t sure I could bear either expression in that moment.
After a long, silent moment, Preston narrowed his eyes. “I’ll send Aspen to help you clean up. Hurry. We will return to Northelm to announce our engagement. There’s no time to waste.”
Back throbbing, I didn’t respond or even move my head. I simply stared at him, praying he could read the silent challenge in my glare. But if he saw it, he didn’t react at all.
“Come, Garrick,” Preston snapped, and he swept out of the room, Garrick trailing rigidly.
The door slammed behind them, and I was left for a few minutes in blissful silence, able to sink on my bed and breathe deeply, forcing back my tears. Unfortunately, my solitude didn’t last long, and a knock on the door forced me to stand and shuffle forward to cautiously pull it open.
Aspen was perched on a guard’s shoulder, her arms crossed and her expression crinkled. There was a heavy bag hanging from one shoulder, though I couldn’t possibly fathom how something small enough for a pixie to carry could hold anything that would help me.
As soon as her dark eyes noticed my disheveled appearance, she stood hastily, the weight of her swinging bag making her stumble a little. “Would you let me in, Your Majesty?” she asked, gesturing toward my hand.
With one still awkwardly holding the back of my tunic together, I extended my free hand and let Aspen drop down into it. She stood there for a moment, blinking up at me, before shooing me forward. “Get inside, close the door. We have work to do, Florentia Silverfrost!”
I hastened to obey her command, kicking the door shut with my foot. “Ren.”
“What?” she asked.
“Please call me Ren.”
The pixie smiled up at me. “Very well, Ren.”
As soon as I’d settled onto the bed, Aspen hopped out of my hand and onto the covers, tugging the bag off her shoulder. “You might want to slide over a little,” she said without any preamble.
Frowning in confusion—the tiny pixie had plenty of space—I did as she asked, moving closer to the edge of the bed.
In a blink, the pixie I’d been studying vanished, and a full-grown woman sat beside me in her place. She appeared exactly like Aspen—smooth, dark skin, glittering eyes, and bouncy curls. Even the bag she’d been holding had grown, now resting in her lap.
I gaped. “How—what—I don’t understand,” I spluttered.
Aspen laughed, the sound light and airy. “Have you never heard about pixies’ ability to shapeshift?”
“Then why do you spend so much time in a little body, being carried to and fro?”
Aspen fluttered her lashes. “If you could be ferried about all day like royalty, wouldn’t you choose to be?” When I merely continued to frown, she waved a hand and laughed again. “My smaller form is mynaturalone. Being pixie-sized is most comfortable for me.” Her expression grew solemn. “Now, turn and let me see your back.”
“I figured you would hate me,” I choked out. “You’re only doing this at the king’s bidding, aren’t you?”
Aspen shook her head. “If you mean because of what you did to Isolde...” She rolled her eyes. “She wasn’t my friend. She was a notorious court gossip, and with her access to every corner of the palace because of her healing magic, she was a useful informant. But truthfully, I tolerated her. She didn’t have an unselfish bone in her body, and her cruelty goes against a healer’s nature.”
I raised my eyebrows in surprise, but Aspen gestured impatiently for me to move.
Turning to the side, I allowed her gentle fingers to pull my ruined tunic away from my body. A sharp intake of breath told me that she was horrified by whatever she saw.
“King Preston is a wretch,” she practically snarled, the most hostile I’d ever heard the pixie’s sweet voice turn. “Why did he do this?”
“I—” I hesitated, swallowing. If Aspen had no qualms about speaking ill of the king, then surely I could trust her. Right? “He promised if he could smell Garrick on me, there would be punishment. Garrick was tasked with spending the night here as my guard, and I woke him when I had a nightmare. He came to comfort me, and...”
“And this was the king’s sadistic retaliation,” Aspen muttered. “He and Nerissa set this up in order to entrap you. They expected this to happen. They love to play mind games and set the board so their victims always lose. And then hecarved intoyou.”
