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When the sorceress exits the bedchamber, I glimpse the guards standing outside the door. A moment later, a trio of women sweeps into the room. They gasp at my nakedness and gather around me to hide me from the guards.
“For heaven’s sake!” One of the women flaps her hands as if she’s shooing away a chicken. “Close the door.”
Another woman rushes to obey. The third shakes her head and clucks her tongue at me. All three of them wear gowns of brocade satin, their hair twisted into intricate braids, along with enough jewelry that my fingers twitch with temptation. The dragon in me covets these glittering gemstones.
“Who are you?” I ask. “Princesses?”
They all laugh at me.
“No,” says the first, a silver-haired woman adorned in amethysts. “Ladies-in-waiting. Her Majesty asked us to make you presentable before she sees you.”
The second, a brunette with a ruby at her throat, delicately lifts my discarded shirt from the floor. She wrinkles her nose. “How vile.”
“Good lord,” says the third, a pale blonde dripping with aquamarines. “Are those men’s clothes? They reek of sweat.”
“Wait.” I frown. “The queen wants to see me?”
“Oh yes,” says the lady in amethysts. “Her Majesty couldn’t sleep when she heard of your arrival. She’s quite impatient to meet you.”
A knot tightens in my stomach. “Why?”
The ruby-throated lady tosses away the dirty shirt. “Because you’re Scaldric’s mate.” She holds a handkerchief under her nose. “And you’re in desperate need of a bath.”
“But—”
“Trustme.”
The ladies-in-waiting corner me by a wooden tub that’s already full of water. Clearly, they have been expecting my arrival at the castle. Before I can protest, they take me by the elbows and steer me into the bath.
I gasp at the icy water. “Fuck, that’s cold!”
“You were late,” says the blonde lady, unapologetically.
The aquamarines around her neck match her hard blue eyes. She inspects my body, her gaze tracing every scar on my skin.
“Dragonslayers,” I say. “Can’t remember how many times they tried to kill me.”
The blonde sucks in her breath. “How barbaric!” She says it as if it’s a delicious secret.
The ladies-in-waiting bathe me, dry me, and perfume me with rosewater. They slip a linen shift over my head, then lace me into a gown of white satin, the edges embroidered with bloodred flowers. Finally, they braid my hair into an intricate plait.
“Perfect,” says the lady in amethysts.
I’m whisked from the bedchamber, flanked by guards, and escorted through the castle.
Scaldric strides down a long hallway and meets me halfway. He’s dressed in a brocade coat of entangled black and gold, a dark contrast to my pale gown.
His gaze travels over my body. “You look lovely tonight.”
Warmth creeps into my cheeks. It’s impossible not to react to him, since he’s just too damn charming.
“Thank you.” I don’t know what else to say.
“Come.” He places his hand between my shoulder blades. Every fingertip sears my skin through the satin of my gown. “The queen is waiting.”
He brings me to the throne room, a cavernous hall lit by candlelight. The bittersweet smoke of incense clings to the air. At the far end of the room, Queen Dulcamara of Chymeria sits upon a gilded throne. Her gown cascades down her body in ripples of crimson velvet. She’s distant enough that I can’t see the color of her eyes.
My heartbeat pounds in my throat as I’m paraded across the room.
