“A fucking week. Senan, that shit can kill you.”
It is killing me, but that is neither here nor there.
“Boris said in his letters that you were getting better. That you had accepted this union and were looking forward to a fresh start in Nimbiss.”
Boris saidwhat? There are so many things to unpack in that statement, but for some reason, my wounded pride takes precedent. “You were writing to Boris and not me?”
He presses a hand to his forehead, as if everything about me exasperates him. Guess what? The feeling is fucking mutual. We used to be so close, and then he fucking left me to deal with all this shit on my own.
“Of course I wrote to you. Every fucking week. You’re the one who stopped writing.”
“I only stopped because you never responded.” And after months of nothing, it felt like a colossal waste of time—not to mention pathetic. If he didn’t want to be in my life, then I didn’t want him in it.
His hands fall to his sides. “I wrote to all of you, Sen. Sent them in the same envelopes and everything.”
“I haven’t heard from you since the spring Equinox.”Fucking Boris. Why withhold letters from me? They were my lifeline for so long, the only thing keeping me from drowning. “It doesn’t matter,” I tell him—and myself. “You’re here now, and I need your help.”
His eyes harden as he watches me with tight lips.
“I’ve invited a friend to dinner tonight and need you to say she came with you from Stratiss.” It kills me that I won’t be by Allette’s side the entire night, but knowing she is there will have to be enough.
His dark brows arch. “Your friend is a woman?”
I nod.
Cursing, he closes his eyes and starts massaging his temples with his fingertips. “Let me get this straight. You’ve invited a woman to dine with us thirteen days before you are to marry another.”
Now for the part he really isn’t going to like. I steel my spine and draw in a fortifying breath. “I am not going to marry the princess.”
Forty-Six
ALLETTE
After my conversation with Braith,I had every intention of asking Senan his plans for after he weds, but then he returned all shirtless and glistening, and I threw myself at him like some rabid beast. On a positive note, at least this allows us to pretend for a little longer.
When dinner is over, we will discuss plans for our future, but for now, I will simply bask in the excitement of attending a grand event at Kumulus Castle instead of just serving at one. Part of me wonders what the other servants might think. Then again, our relationship became common knowledge the day Senan sent his guard to retrieve me.
Braith helps me into a black silk gown with long sleeves that gradually fades to silver at the hem. The crisscrossed pattern over my chest and waist accentuates my small breasts and the flare of my hips.
At first, I feel beautiful. But the longer I stare at myself, the less confident I become. “Are you certain you can’t see my scars?” It’s difficult to tell from this angle.
“I’m certain,” Braith says with a sigh of exasperation. “I chose this dress specifically for the higher neckline.”
The neckline is high, but there are other dresses that go higher. “Perhaps I should change into the red one.”
“This dress is perfect, Allette. Just like you. Now, stop fidgeting and let me finish your hair.” She twists the pieces at the front back from my face and fastens them at my crown with a silver clasp.
I don’t know about perfect, but it’s nearly dinnertime, so there really isn’t time to change. Plus, the kohl she has skillfully applied along my lashes and the silver shimmer on my eyelids wouldn’t suit the red dress at all.
“All finished.” Braith steps back to admire her handywork and gives me a nod of approval. She truly is a miracle worker. With the subtle touches of makeup and rouge, I don’t look as if I’ve spent the last four years far from the sun.
I press a hand to my stomach, willing the flutters to calm. Although I look the part of the noblewoman I once was, I still feel like a servant. “I’m not sure if I can do this.” With Senan by my side, it feels as if I can take on the world, but the moment he leaves, my doubt returns tenfold, screaming with a vengeance.
To step out of this room all alone is to expose myself to a world that will shun me if it finds out who I am—what I’ve become. A Tuath in Scathian clothing. An imposter.
“Look at all you’ve been through. All you’ve survived. You deserve to be out there among your people,” Braith says, straightening a wrinkle along my silken sleeve. “Do not let them make you feel less than what you are.”
I need to be strong, to take charge of my own destiny. To stand by my word. “I don’t suppose you’d like to come with me? There are plenty of dresses to choose from.”