When the door closed behind him, she walked up to the rounded mirror beside the clothing chamber and stared at the dusty reflection.

Her cheeks were hollow, eyes slightly sunken in.

But that was to be expected after two weeks without food.

She pulled out a small cosmetic pouch and dabbed a bit of color onto her cheeks and pale lips, then grabbed a brush and dragged it through her hair a few times.

She picked up a silvery comb Amalise had gifted her, then pulled her hair back and fastened it. The ornament wasn’t as elaborate as Malain’s gilded ones, but it complemented her golden-brown hair and comfortably kept it out of her face.

Merrick was right.

She wouldn’t break because of the council’s—or anyone else in Ellow’s—reactions.

They were justified, after all.

Although she was doing everything she could to ensure these people remained safe while spying on them…

She was still spying on them.

As she pulled out the black dress, her mind replayed the debate, the matters that had been discussed.

Even if they had included her, she wouldn’t have known what to say. Many of the concerns discussed were foreign to her, and she wasn’t even sure what her opinions on them were.

Slipping out of her breeches and tunic and pulling the dress over her head, Lessia promised herself that she would read up on each one.

Not for a chance to win this election.

But if she was to stay here, she should be more informed about the land’s issues. She might have opinions on how people like herself and the half-Fae she brought over should be treated, but if she didn’t know how society worked, she could never change it.

After a quick glance in the mirror, wincing at how plain she looked, Lessia squared her shoulders, made sure her sleeves safely covered her tattoo, and walked out the door.

As promised, Merrick waited right outside in the same clothing he’d worn to the debate, even if she knew he had other, much more elaborate pieces.

She doubted it was for her benefit—to make her feel more comfortable—but regardless, it lifted her spirits.

Surprise made her brows pop when he offered her his arm, but she still took it.

Even if he was hardly a friendly face, she could pretend for tonight.

“You look like you’re going to a burial. I suppose it’s fitting.”

She threw a glare his way and snarled softly, “If you had to hide the lovely tattoo your king graced me with, you would also have to be careful with how you dressed.”

His jaw flexed, the arm she was holdingtensing, and she wondered if she’d gone too far. But Merrick only rushed his steps, nearly having her fall in the stupid shoes she’d paired the dress with.

Like many women, she loved beautiful clothing and would have done much to be able to wear one of the fashionable dresses other women did.

But the shoes she could do without.

She didn’t mind the additional height they gave her—she had come to terms with the fact that human women would almost always look dainty next to her—but did they have to be so damn uncomfortable?

As they took the final steps down to the sitting room, delicious smells that made her mouth water washed over them. Lessia picked up the smell of bread, of meat and vegetables, but it was the sugary scent of cakes and pastries that made her stomach rumble loud enough for Merrick to scoff.

“What?” she hissed. “I am starving. I didn’t eat anything but snow for two weeks, and you wore me out this morning. My body needs the energy.”

Shaking his head, he dragged her toward the sitting room.

Lessia couldn’t stop her mouth from falling open when they entered through the double doors, where dozens of guards stood posted outside.