Page 29 of The Twisted Throne

“Your rooms, my lady.” The housekeeper opened a door, revealing a large room decorated with birchwood furniture and damask upholstery. The open window had a view of the rear of the property, which was dominated by a hedge cut into what looked like a maze. Ahnna walked to the window and took in the scope of the grounds, which were surrounded by the city. So much space, and until they’d arrived, it had held only the serving staff, while the rest of the city’s populace was crammed into small stone houses with barely enough room to breathe.

A footman came in bearing her trunk, and as he departed,Hazel said, “By your leave, my lady, I would make arrangements for you to see one of the city’s modistes for a dress suitable for dinner tonight.” She coughed delicately. “They often have gowns that were never paid for, and I can alter it to fit you as well as anything made for your measurements.”

“Thank you, but I’ve no need of dresses.”

Hazel’s jaw tightened, and she smoothed her already impeccably tidy hair. “My lady, I’d ask you to reconsider. There are expectations for a lady’s appearance, especially once you join the king’s court.”

“Then I’ll cross that bridge when we reach Verwyrd.” Ahnna gestured to the door. “However, I would like a bath before tea.”

Hazel bobbed a curtsy. “Yes, my lady.”

Once she was gone, Ahnna rounded on her friends. “In my discussion with James about trade—”

“That was an argument,” Bronwyn interrupted. “You two seem incapable of discussions.”

Ahnna’s cheeks warmed. “In ourargument,he implied an alternative market for trade that doesn’t require using the bridge. I want you two to see what you can learn about new markets or expanding markets, because our spies haven’t reported anything of the sort. We need their business, so if we have competition, Aren needs to know. Be discreet, and have Jor do some digging with the footmen.”

“We’re supposed to be watching your back, not spying,” Taryn said. “I know that it seems as though all these attacks were directed at James, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t people who want you dead. Even when he assumed disguises, Aren always kept his guards close when he traveled onto the continents. There are a thousand threats in this kingdom, Ahnna, and while I know you can hold your own, you also have no experience outside ofIthicana. No amount of research, no amount of reading spy reports, is really going to prepare you.”

“There are soldiers guarding Fernleigh,” Ahnna said. “I’ll be fine.”

Taryn shrugged. “I’ll go find Jor and then see what I can learn in the kitchen.”

“You’ve been betrothed to William for…what? Around eighteen years?” Bronwyn asked, watching the door close behind Taryn. “Didn’t it occur to you to get the lay of the land by visiting before you arrived to marry the crown prince?”

It had, but Ahnna had convinced herself that she didn’t have to. That Aren wouldn’t go through with marrying a Maridrinian princess and that she’d be released from her own obligations as a result. When that hadn’t manifested, she’d been busy with Southwatch. Then busy fighting for her life.

And because you didn’t want to,her heart whispered.A choice for which you will now bear the consequences.

When Ahnna didn’t answer, Bronwyn said, “You’re not that much taller than me that Hazel can’t let out the hem of one of my dresses for you to wear.”

Part of her bristled, tired of the reminder that nothing about her was good enough, but Ahnna only shook her head. “Your gowns are Maridrinian, Bron. Friends as we are, I’d rather go to tea naked than wear a dress from a Veliant court. I want the Harendellians to see me as I am. To never forget the nation I represent, and that means dressing like an Ithicanian. If they take offense to that, it’s on them.”

Silence stretched.

“I know how you feel about my sister,” Bronwyn finally said. “Except keep in mind that Lara also came to Ithicana with the goal of helping her people. And I’d bet my last coin that Lara used farmore cream than vinegar to get everyone to trust her. To do what she wanted. You might consider learning from her example.”

Anger bloomed in Ahnna’s chest. “I am not Lara. I am nothing like her. And I refuse to stoop to her level to achieve my goals.”

Bronwyn opened her mouth as though to say something, then looked away. “I respect your desire to be honest and forthright, Ahnna. I truly do. But I can’t help but think that you care more about doing everything differently from Lara than you do about succeeding in your goals. The Harendellians won’t respect you if you walk in wearing the same clothes you do to hike through the jungle. They’ll think you’re a joke. They’ll smile to your face and laugh while your back is turned. Play the fucking game, Ahnna, or you’re going to lose.”

Not giving her a chance to respond, Bronwyn departed, slamming the door behind her.

Play the game play the game play the game.

Ahnna rested her head in her hands, skull throbbing as the words repeated. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand the need to play politics, it was that she wanted to do it on her terms. In a way that she could feel proud of.

Except was that only another way of putting herself first?

Opening her chest, Ahnna surveyed her clothes. All drab colors, leather and cotton and linen suitable for trekking through the jungle. New and clean but nothing like the gowns the Harendellians wore. Imagined laughter echoed through the room.

They’ll think you’re a joke.

Lurching to her feet, Ahnna started to the door, intent on taking Bronwyn up on her offer. Except as her fingers rested on the handle, she paused, memory filling her mind’s eye. Lara, dressed in Ithicanian garb, perfectly mimicking Ahnna’s people. Their delighted voices filled her ears, telling her about their admiration forhow Lara had adapted. How she’d abandoned her Maridrinian ways. How she was the true queen of Ithicana. All of it fading to screams and hollow eyes as they realized they’d been deceived. That it had been an act. That the queen they’d fallen so hopelessly in love with was responsible for the dead children they held in their arms.

“I will not be her,” Ahnna hissed.

She paced the room, bending her mind to a solution. Valcottan women wore trousers—Zarrah herself wore them exclusively, and she was the empress. No one laughed at her. Ahnna drew into her mind an image of what the Valcottans wore, the lush silks and decorative embroidery, and when Hazel entered, she said, “I am hoping for a compromise.”

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