Page 78 of The Twisted Throne

“I see.” Every part of Ahnna rebelled against such violent persecution, and her mind instantly leapt to wondering if it would be possible to change the laws if and when she ever became queen. It must have shown on her face, because Hazel’s mouth drew into a thin line. “I do not presume to advise you, my lady, but if you were to ask, it would be my recommendation that you refrain from voicing opinions on that particular subject.”

Ahnna chewed the insides of her cheeks, then decided this was not a battle she’d fight today. But it was a battle that she intended to fight when the moment to do so was right. “I understand. Would you arrange for a bath to be drawn? I smell of horse.”

Seemingly satisfied with her response, Hazel bobbed a curtsy. “Of course, my lady.”

—

Nearly an hour later, theservants had finished filling the large copper tub with steaming water, and Hazel helped her undress.

“You’re bleeding,” Hazel said as she examined the small stain on the back of Ahnna’s clothes.

“I fell off my new horse.” Stepping into the steaming bath, she reached behind her back to touch the injury, and her fingers came away bloody. “Does it need fresh stitches?”

“I don’t think so,” Hazel answered after scrutinizing the wound. “Only one stitch broke, though you should really take more care, my lady.”

“I’m going to try to ride him again tomorrow.”

Hazel sighed, but only picked up a file and set to work on Ahnna’s nails.

Ahnna was no fool; she knew the horse was not a well-thought gift but rather something convenient. Yet it was a concrete gesture, and that was something. And after her meeting with Alexandra, which had resulted in a night in the privy with vicious stomach cramps and endless questions,somethingwas what she needed.

You are a disappointment,Alexandra’s voice whispered in her head, and Ahnna fought the urge to sink beneath the surface of the bathwater, the queen’s tone hauntingly reminiscent of the tone her own mother had once used.

Hazel finished with her nails, then said, “Would you care to soak while I see about your gown, my lady? I will not be long.”

“Yes.”

Hazel’s footsteps moved away behind the silk screens, the door opening and then shutting, lock turning. Ahnna settled against the back of the tub, though she was careful to keep the wound from being immersed in the water.

Don’t be sorry. Do better.

The queen’s parting words had been the ones to haunt her the most, because they implied a path forward. A way to become worthy in Alexandra’s eyes.

Apparently by becoming more like her mother.

Ahnna scowled, wanting to rebel against the very idea of it, butshe forced herself to consider the specific criticisms. Reactionary. Not forward thinking. Blind to distant threats.

Criticisms, yes, but part of Ahnna wondered if Alexandra’s words had also been guidance as to how she might succeed in Harendell and gain the queen’s support. And the laxative in the tea…that had only been a petty way to reinforce Alexandra’s very clear statement: The attack on the Sky Palace walls hadn’t been ordered by her.

As to what Ahnna should do with all this information, she didn’t bloody well know, but the strange meeting had given her hope that her aim of saving Ithicana through marriage to William might actually come to fruition.

At the thought of her homeland, a wave of homesickness passed over her. As much as they’d all needed to leave, for different reasons, having all three of her companions depart had taken a toll on her. As though Jor and Taryn drifting down the river had taken the last piece of Ithicana she had with them, leaving her alone.

“It’s fine,” she muttered. “You’re surrounded by servants who cater to your every need and soldiers protecting your back. You’re hardly alone.”

Yet it had felt that way as she sat in the empty carriage returning her to the tower, and part of Ahnna had nearly broken in that moment. Had nearly begged the carriage driver to turn around, to catch the boat on which she could flee back home.

And then William had opened the door, offering her an olive branch in the form of a racehorse.

To put so much weight on a horse was foolish, but her heart had latched on to Dippy the moment she’d set eyes on him. Not only an olive branch, but the one thing in this place that could be hers and hers alone.

She was going to master riding that horse, no matter what James had to say about it.

James.

He had not been happy discussing his mother or Cardiff today, that much had been obvious. Yet while there might have been clever and roundabout ways of getting the information, in Ahnna’s experience, outright asking questions was usually the best way to receive clear answers. Or at least answers as clear as one could get.

Which was to say, not very clear at all.

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