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Cait stepped in. “Madam Zenitha,” she said, bowing so elegantly that it almost made me forget her dingy clothes. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
“Cait? Can it truly be?” She covered her gaping ruby lips with one hand. “I didn’t expect to ever see those gorgeous curls again outside of . . . “ She glanced at me, then back to Cait, “. . . well, the last place we saw each other. And who might this be?”
“This is my friend.” Cait gestured at me. “She—he, um . . .”
“Sounds complicated.” Zenitha winked her colorful eyelid. “Shall I call you Enforcer?”
I could only smile awkwardly. I knew she was bound to figure out who I was, but I wasn’t eager to trust her just yet, despite Cait’s assurances.
Cait dropped her attempt to introduce me and pointed to the shop owner. “This is the one and only Madam Zenitha, Cambria’s most talented wigmaker.”
My smile became more sincere as I gave her a bow.
“Look at those golden locks.” She eyed my hair with a gleam in her eyes. “Hair fit for a queen.”
I kept my face neutral, though the compliment seemed pointed. “Thank you.”
“I don’t imagine you stopped by this late only to say hello, did you?” asked Zenitha.
“No. We could really use your help,” said Cait, “if you’re willing.”
Zenitha’s square jaw tightened. “I need to close the shop now. Can you come back tomorrow?”
“Not really,” said Cait. “We don’t have anywhere to spend the night.”
Zenitha nodded slowly, her expression intensifying. “I can offer my cellar for one night.”
I sighed in relief just as the final curfew bell tolled outside.
Zenitha raised an arched eyebrow to the storefront. “Help me with the curtains, Cait?”
Cait followed her to the front of the store. Zenitha locked the door, and each of them took a fringed damask panel. They gathered the drapes across the window, deftly avoiding the mannequins until the fabric met in the middle.
Zenitha strode back over, her skirts swishing loudly. She picked up a lantern from the shelf and lit it.
“Thank you so much, Madam Zenitha,” I said.
“I’m nothing if not generous,” said Zenitha, waving the match to extinguish the flame. “But in exchange, I want the whole story.” She brought her lantern close, studying my face. “Imustknow how the dead queen appears to have not only survived but is now standing in front of me as a cross-dressing Law Enforcer.”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or to run.
Cait gave me a reassuring look and leaned in. “She’s safe, trust me.”
“It’s true,” Zenitha said. “And I’m one of the few people on the Stroud side of this whole Brennin-Stroud feud if that gives you any comfort. Well, Brennin-Stroud-Byrne feud at this point, seeing as the Fourth House couldn’t resist vying for the throne after you disappeared.”
I frowned. Things had gotten even more complicated than I’d expected. I’d have to catch up on the news the first chance I got.
“You’re really on the Stroud side?” I asked. “I didn’t thinkanyonewould be.”
“I was there for your coronation. I heard your speech. It wasn’t eloquent, but it was authentic,” said Zenitha.
I glanced around at the shop filled to the brim with fake hair and ostentatious accessories, surprised that she cited authenticity as a value.
She laughed, a surprisingly deep belly laugh that resonated through the room, and picked up a pastel pink braided wig. “I know what you’re thinking. Look at what I sell. Iadorefakeness in objects, in hair, in makeup, and in jewelry. But when it comes to the humans who wear them, my taste is entirely for the real. Those souls brave enough to be themselves in a world of conformity.”
I smiled, beginning to see the real person underneath all the ornamentation. I didn’t know there were people in Class A who thought this way. I imagined the nobles were all the same in their views and their hatred of me.
“And those daring people happen to be my best customers. My shop is too avant-garde for the conformist.” She gestured widely. “Now come, ladies. Let me show you to your room.”
