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As the sun began to fall, Wainstrill did what he did best, and interrupted my idleness. At least I was prepared for it this time.

A lady’s maid entered, by the name of Daffinia. She held a dress box, and on top of it sat a cluster of red ribbons. She appraised everything about the room with meticulous attention, before bobbing a curtsy and greeting me with more deference than I deserved.

I nodded back, and greeted her in turn.

“I heard you got a dress from Plonius,” she said. “There are ladies in the tower waiting weeks for a simple meeting with him.”

“Oh,” I said, unsure how to respond. “I had no idea.”

“Of course not. I guess someone in this castle likes you.” Then she held the ribbons aloft. “These are a gift from your prince.”

I blinked, staring at the ribbons with complete surprise.

Yourprince. There was an inflection to it, a way of speaking it that unnerved me. If she had said your king, and I myself had been a Sightlander, there would be nothing of note. And yet, there were two princes, and I was not of their people. What did Daffinia know? Had we been spotted the other night? But yet, nothing untoward had occurred.

After a pause, I only shook my head dumbly. “My prince?”

Daffinia gave me a patient smile on a narrow mouth painted mauve. I placed her at seven spans, both from the way she looked down on me and the barest creases on her porcelain skin. Her hair was a reddish gold, and enviably straight. “I’ll get you ready. Have you bathed?”

I had not.

I let her take me into the other room, draw the water, and fill the battered tin bath. It was unnatural to undress before her, but I did so, happy the steam would disguise my blush. She made no fuss nor comment as I stepped into the water and settledmyself. She washed me diligently, if not luxuriantly, and rubbed fragrant oils into my scalp.

Daffinia wafted me dry with a linen sheet, the lingering warmth of the day near enough to dry me by itself. She brushed my hair, pulled me into my dress, and applied her cosmetics. I was careful to keep my remarks to the weather, the colour of the gown, and my excitement for the ball.

And yet, my mind was reeling from the ribbons. Tonight, it began. Langnathin would see me as more than a wild thing. He had to, before I ran out of time entirely.

30

Lang

My arms were rigid, my right hand not drifting from the exact spot on the small of Lady Elissa’s back.

My aunt had informed me it was decidedly rude if I did not ask at least three women to dance, and I was hoping to narrow that to two, especially after Francillin’s illness and subsequent departure after the luncheon. I shuddered at the memory. It was unfortunate that she couldn’t hold in her nausea; both for my eyes, and for the blossoming trellis she covered so diligently in sick.

This lady, Elissa, bedecked in a pale gold bouffant dress, was one of the least objectionable ladies I’d had the misfortune to talk with over the last week.

She smiled up at me from under her blonde lashes, her long curling hair lighter than her dress. The clips bore rubies and the beads across her face were a matching shade of red, and it wasn’t lost on me. Whether in homage to our house, or my dragon, itwas a calculated move from her seamstress or her mother. Most likely both.

Lady Elissa was one of my father’s two remaining bridal options. Her father was Duke Carvillyan, charged with the running of Unger Lift, the largest town in the west of the Sightlands and a key trading hub. The duke owned a sizable estate to the south of the town and a smaller one in the eastern marshes. Whilst an alliance wouldn’t break new ground, I knew my father was nervous about Unger. He had raised their levies many times in the last span to cover the costs of our foray to the north, and this would smoothen over Carvillyan’s discontented murmurings.

“Are you enjoying your time in Droundhaven, Lady Elissa?” I asked, out of boredom.

My father had outdone himself with this ball; with the air as warm as it was, the bulk of it was in the southern gardens. From the decorative marble pillars weaved ivy and flowers, with vines suspended between them creating the form of a room around the space. Swathes of silk enveloped stone tables, and tabletop carved statues of the Five pinned the swaying fabric in place. The paved circle around the lavish fountain had become the ballroom’s floor, as servers handed out drinks on silver platters. A banquet with full seating awaited us in the interior, ready to be served on the clang of the late dinner bell. There were close to one hundred guests, and far more than I could name.

Lady Elissa nodded. “I am finding it most diverting. I have travelled here before from my father’s estate, but that was in Domin.”

“Yes, the city is quite different now.”

Smellier,Chaethor finished for me.

Lady Elissa nodded again, eagerly, and her beads shook against each other. “Just so, Your Grace. It is so… warm.”

And then we returned to our blissfully silent swirls, reminding me why she was one of the least objectionable women. At least she seemed aware of her lack of intellect and didn’t attempt to engage me in conversation despite it.

You sleep on a tower,I spoke to Chaethor instead.What do you know of the smell of the streets?

You moan a lot about the stench,she replied.