Page 25 of A Rose Among Snakes

“So be it,” Velian said, pushing his hands into his pockets. “The ball is next week, but it will take us two days to get there by carriage. I assume that is how you would prefer to travel rather than horseback?” He looked pointedly at Kezara, and she answered him with an exaggerated nod. “You have four days to get everything ready then. I’ll let you get some rest now. I just wanted to give you something to look forward to.” He stared at his sister and didn’t move, though his words sounded like a parting.

Kezara crossed her arms and pointedly glanced between him and the open door.

Velian continued, “Kez, there will be other men. Don’t waste your time on the ones that don’t deserve a second of your attention, let alone your tears.”

Kezara raised her chin in defiance. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Velian threw her a sympathetic smile over his shoulder as he headed for the door. He paused in the doorway, his hand resting on the frame, and looked at me, making my heartbeat jump. “Don’t let her drink too much.” The gentle smile was still on his face, but it tightened before he beckoned for Wolf to follow him and closed the door behind them.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Kezara swung her head over to me, glaring daggers.

I held my hands up in surrender. “I didn’t say a word, I promise.”

Her eyes softened, but she grimaced, saying, “He’s so nosy.”

“I think he’s far more perceptive than you give him credit for, and he loves you.”

Kezara clucked her tongue, shaking her head. “Don’t fall under his spell, Mihrra.” She grabbed the wine bottle and raised it to her lips, tipping the rest of the contents into her mouth.

Too late.

I sent Kezara to sleep with a large glass of water and we both retired early. I was combing through my hair when Narell entered.

“Oh, Mihrra, I didn’t think you would be in here.”

I paused with the brush in hand. “Kezara went to bed early.”

“You sure spend a lot of time with her—more than her previous maid ever did. She must like you.” She reached behind her back to untie her apron and wrinkled her nose. “How do you stand it?”

I frowned. “She’s very kind to me. Have you had a different experience?”

“No, but she’s so… spoiled.”

I snorted and went back to brushing my hair. “You wouldn’t say that if she was a boy and just as handsome as Velian.”

“Hmmm… maybe not. I wouldn’t get any work done if there were two of them. I’d be too distracted!” Narell plopped onto her bed and sighed loudly. “Did you hear what all the commotion was earlier?”

“It was an invitation to a ball at the castle celebrating the prince’s engagement.”

Narell whistled. “I assume they’ll be gone for a few days then, which means we get a holiday,” she said, excitement sparkling in her eyes.

I picked out the honey-colored hairs wrapped around the bristles of the brush. “Kezara requested that I accompany her because she doesn’t trust the castle maids to get her ready. A holiday sounds nice, though, so I’m happy for you. Will you stay here?”

Narell didn’t respond and when I flicked my eyes up to her face, I caught her in the middle of undressing. She was frozen with her frock halfway off her shoulder, glaring at me. When our gazesmet, she tried to rearrange her face into a surprised expression but failed.

“Heavens, that sounds like a lot of work, but lucky you.” Her flat tone revealed the insincerity of her words.

I opted for a smile rather than words, but she turned around and blew out the lamp. Only the dimming evening light seeping around the closed curtains let me see the one last hateful glare she threw at me before she crawled into bed and faced the wall. I sat there in confused silence, baffled by her resentment.

Chapter Fourteen

Kezara woke up starving the next morning and rushed me through getting ready. I had an especially difficult time detangling her mane, and the dark circles under her eyes told me she had slept fitfully.

“Can’t we just braid it like yours?” Kezara whined, squirming in her seat.

“Not if we can’t detangle it.” I tugged on a knot and Kezara groaned. “What about a twist?”

She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “I’m eighteen, not eighty.”

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