Page 9 of Rise of the Vicious Princess

The girl’s eyes were red-rimmed, the skin beneath them bruised with exhaustion. “I couldn’t sleep. Not after . . .” Her gaze darted toward the bath chamber and then found Charis again. She shook the bundles of sage and sweetgrass she held. “I thought I’d burn a little of this and leave the ashes in the corners of your chambers to help protect you.” She stopped, her eyes huge. “You pulled a dagger on me.”

“I didn’t know it was you,” Charis said, the cold metal of the dagger’s handle digging into her skin as she clenched her fist. “And I didn’t sleep well either.”

“You think another spy will try to sneak in?” Milla’s voice shook.

“Once King Alaric hears the first one failed, yes.” Charis’s voice was still calm, but something dark and dangerous skittered beneath her skin.

The assassin had dressed as though he belonged at the ball. Arrived early enough to sneak into the ladies’ parlor without being so early that he’d seem out of place in the palace. Stood in the darkness of the closet waiting to deal a killing blow, even though he had to know he’d never get out of the palace alive.

It was bold. Daring. She almost admired it.

What made no sense was the second Montevallian, weaponless and alone in Charis’s rooms.

“My lady, you’ve been staring at that door for several minutes.” Milla’s words broke through Charis’s thoughts, and she turned to find the handmaiden standing in front of her, a look of determination on her freckled face. Her voice shook, but her tone was firm. “There’s no need to be afraid of the bath chamber. I’ll go in ahead of you and make sure no spy is in there.”

The dark, dangerous thing that was scraping at Charis quieted, and she smiled. “Brave Milla. What would I do without you?”

Milla’s matching smile wobbled at the edges but stayed in place. “No Montevallian scum is going to kill my princess. Not while I’m alive to protect you.”

Charis took a long look at the way Milla’s hands trembled even as she glared at the bath chamber like it was a dragon she meant to slay with nothing but the bundles of herbs in her hands.

This was why Charis had the will to do what was necessary. Why she manipulated the nobility into filling the war coffers and remaining loyal while working toward a solution that rescued their northern territories and stopped the war.

The beating heart of Calera was its people. Its handmaidens, farmers, merchants, and sailors. The people worked hard for their bread and trusted their rulers to keep them safe.

People like Milla didn’t hunger for power or position. They only wanted to go home to their families at night and rise again with the sun, secure in the knowledge that those who stood between them and Montevallo’s soldiers wouldn’t falter.

Charis never faltered.

Even when she wanted to.

“We’ll conquer the bath chamber together,” she said, looping her arm through Milla’s. “And then we’ll figure out what dress and hairstyle I need for the day.”

Milla caught her breath as they walked into the bath chamber, but her grip on Charis’s arm was solid. If she stared too long at the gleaming white tub in the center of the room, Charis couldn’t blame her. It was hard to look at it without imagining blood running down its sides.

Moving past the tub, Charis faced the mirror and groaned at the tangle of curls and sticky beeswax pomade clinging to her scalp. “I should’ve let you wash my hair last night.”

She should have, but she hadn’t been able to face the thought of getting into the tub.

“We can sort that out quick enough, my lady.” Milla approached the vanity, her movements more confident now that she was focused on her familiar tasks. “But first, let’s choose a look for you. What’s on your agenda today?”

Charis turned away from the mirror and began ticking items off on her fingers. “Meeting with the palace steward during breakfast, working with Darold to answer correspondence immediately after, checking on the queen to discuss what happened last night and deciding on a response, tutoring with Nalani and Holland, high tea with the Everlys, where I’m sure I’ll be prodded for insight into my mother’s plans while also enduring the not-so-subtle matchmaking efforts of Lady Everly, and finally, dinner with Father.”

“If I may be so bold, I think Ferris Everly would make an awful husband,” Milla said.

“And an even worse king,” Charis agreed. “But I can’t come right out and repel his advances when his father needs to work well with my mother on the royal council. And besides, he is my fourth cousin, and his family is in line for the throne if both the Willowthorns and the Farragins are killed. I have to play nice while making sure he knows he’s dealing with a well-sharpened dagger.”

Milla frowned. “You’re going to need to look both approachable and out of reach. Everyone on your list today except for your father needs to look at you and remember who they’re dealing with. Wait here, my lady.”

While she waited, Charis forced herself to approach the bathtub. Let a sick sense of horror fill her at the memory of the spy with the silver necklace and Mother lying crumpled on the floor. At the thought of another spy violating the sanctity of her rooms. Made herself hold on to the horror until it became fury.

How dare King Alaric send a spy into the heart of the palace to assassinate the queen. He ought to be flayed alive, one small piece at a time, for the atrocities he’d visited upon their northern territories. And now he’d added attempting to kill Calera’s ruler to his list of crimes.

If he’d thought removing the queen would make overtaking Calera much easier, then he was about to get a lesson he’d not soon forget.

Charis climbed out of her nightdress and stepped into the tub. The porcelain was cold beneath her bare feet, and she imagined the bits of blood that might still cling secretly to its sides.

“My lady, I found the perfect dre— Oh.” Milla came to a stop at the entrance to the bath chamber, her eyes wide as she took in the naked princess standing proudly in the center of the tub.

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