“Please, call me Fabiana,” the queen said, dropping Em’s hands. “We’ll be family soon.”
“Of course.” Fabiana was a terrible name, so Em would be happy to call her by it.
“What do you think of Lera so far?” the queen asked. “Different than Vallos, isn’t it? Less dreary.”
“Much less,” Em said, noting the subtle dig at Vallos. “And how does Lera compare to Olso? I hear it’s cold there.”
Fabiana barely lifted one eyebrow. “Lera is less . . . rigid.”
“I’m sure it is.” Em had never visited Olso, but she knew the warriors—the group of men and women who protected the country—well. Fabiana used to be one of them, before she defected to Lera, bringing secret information with her. She was probably the most famous traitor in all of Olso. Em had reminded the warriors of Fabiana’s betrayal when she approached them about partnering with her. They’d happily agreed to join Em’s mission.
The door opened, and a dark-haired girl stepped into the room.
“Jovita!” the queen exclaimed. “I’m glad you could join us.”
Em took a long look at the king’s niece. She was second in line to the Lera throne. Though she was around the same age as Em, something about the way she carried herself made her seem much older. She was a little shorter than Em but still had a formidable look about her. Her shoulders were broad and strong, her arm muscles rippling beneath her thin gray tunic every time she moved, and she didn’t smile much, though Em didn’t think it was because she was unhappy. She just seemed like the kind of girl who didn’t smile simply to make others feel comfortable.
“I thought I’d stop by and see how our new princess is settling in.” She strode across the room to the tray of fruit and popped a grape in her mouth. Em frowned. It would be very difficult to get to her weapon of choice with Jovita standing in front of it.
“Perfect timing. She’s about to try on the dress.” The queen gestured to the maids and one of the women scurried away, returning with a pile of blue material so high it almost covered her face.
“If you could take your clothes off, please, Mary,” the queen said with a wave of her hand.
One of the girls began unbuttoning her pink monstrosity, and Em ducked her head to hide her flaming cheeks as the dress fell to the ground. Perhaps these women often undressed in front of total strangers, but Em had never been in her underwear in front of anyone but her mother and sister.
“We’ll take your measurements and have some more clothes brought to you,” the queen said as the girls took away Mary’s dress. Em detected a hint of disdain as the queen examined the garment. She was suddenly very fond of it.
The girls held open the blue dress for Em and she quickly stepped in, eager to be covered again. The fabric was cool and smooth against her skin, and it flared out from her waist extravagantly. The ruched bodice hugged her torso, and a beautiful chain of beads wrapped around the waistline. It was elegant in its simplicity, and Em gingerly touched the soft fabric.
“Oh yes, that’s lovely.”
Em looked up to see the queen standing next to the mirror. She stepped in front of it and her reflection stared back at her. The dress was even more stunning when she could see it in its full glory. It was the most beautiful dress she’d ever seen. Olivia would have clapped and done a happy dance if she’d been there.
Tears pricked her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said as one slipped down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away.
“You wish your mother were here?” the queen guessed.
Em nodded. The real Mary probably would have cried for her dead family too. Perhaps any girl in this situation would have cried, regardless of the status of her mother. She had to marry Casimir, after all.
Cas. The name made her insides clench. They’d barely spoken yesterday, and she really hoped he planned to ignore her entirely. His parents had arranged this marriage; maybe he had a girl somewhere who he loved, and he would pretend Em didn’t exist.
When she’d concocted this plan, she’d known, in the back of her mind, that she’d have to deal with the wedding night. Sex was generally expected immediately following a wedding, which meant that tomorrow night she’d have to be in Cas’s bed. She’d never been in anyone’s bed.
She just wouldn’t think about it. She still had another day until the wedding, and pretending the issue didn’t exist seemed the best course of action.
Perhaps she’d focus on her plan to kill him instead. She needed Cas, at least for a little while, but she hoped to dispose of him before leaving Lera. She’d kill him before the king and queen, so they could experience a bit of the pain she’d felt when her family died.
“I’m sorry,” Em said, trying to compose herself. “I love the dress.”
“Of course you do,” the queen said. “I have excellent taste.”
Em laughed despite herself, which earned a smile of approval from the queen.