CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The next morning, Kiva awoke to an anxious feeling that she couldn’t shake.
Part of it, she knew, was from being confronted by Caldon last night, even if he’d given no indication that he planned to reveal her secret. The very thought knotted her stomach, making it difficult to swallow the final mouthful of Delora’s potion.
After a strenuous training session, she returned to the palace, her anxiety growing at the sight of so many people flooding the halls. With Mirryn’s masquerade only a day away, preparations were in full swing, countless servants, caterers, and entertainers rushing about, enough to keep Kiva firmly on edge, even if she couldn’t pinpoint why.
Unable to handle her growing distress, Kiva intended to slip out after her breakfast, not only for some peace and quiet, but also to sneak in her trip to Blackwater Bog. But just as she was preparing to leave, Mirryn fluttered into her room, followed closely by two maidservants wheeling a rack of dresses, and an elderly man with a tape measure around his neck.
“Good, you’re here,” Mirryn said to Kiva.
“What’s, uh, going on?” she asked, eyes wide.
“You need an outfit for tomorrow night,” the princess answered, and with no further warning, she began giving orders to the maidservants as the tailor approached Kiva to take her measurements. He then forced her into gown after gown, with both him and Mirryn providing a running — and critical —
commentary.
“Too puffy!”
“Needs more sparkle!”
“Not enough bosom!”
“Far too much bosom!”
“Why are there so many ruffles? Less ruffles! No ruffles!”
And on it went.
For hours.
By the time they finally settled on the perfect dress, it took all of Kiva’s
remaining patience to keep from screaming when the tailor, Nevard, stated that they now needed to choose a mask.
Ready to pull out Naari’s dagger and threaten violence, Kiva turned pleading eyes to Mirryn, only to find the princess looking back at her with clear amusement. She did, however, recognize that Kiva was at her wits’ end, and calmly said to Nevard, “Why don’t we pick one for her, and send it along later. It can be a surprise.”
The tailor looked horrified by the thought, but he bobbed his head. “As you wish, Your Highness.”
He and his entourage swiftly packed up, leaving only the gown and a pair of matching slippers before disappearing out the door.
Mirryn, however, remained behind, reaching out to take Kiva’s hands.
“I heard you had an . . . incident . . . with Mother the other night,” she said. “Are you all right?”
Having not expected this conversation, and certainly not with Mirryn, Kiva haltingly admitted, “It . . . surprised me. She’s always been so lovely to me. So motherly. The change in behavior was, um, a little shocking.” And it had nearly killed her, but Kiva left that part unsaid.
Mirryn nodded solemnly. “I’m not defending her actions, but just so you know, she’d had a bad day. Father nearly fainted when they were celebrating the bridge opening, and it’s not public knowledge that he’s sick, so Mother feared rumors might start spreading. After they returned and he’d gone to bed, the angeldust helped her take the edge off. She only ever uses it when she’s feeling overwhelmed.” Quickly, she added, “But again, I’m not defending her. What she did to you —” Mirryn shook her head, then touched the amulet around Kiva’s neck. “I’m really glad Jaren gave you this.”
Kiva had no idea how to reconcile this new, concerned side of the princess, so she settled on nodding her agreement.
“You should also know, she doesn’t remember,” Mirryn said. “Mother, I mean. She was asking about you yesterday, wondering where you and Jaren were and wanting to make sure you were all right after reuniting with your family.” Mirryn’s blue eyes held hers as she went on, “She’s come to care for you, Kiva. Very much. Just like we all have. And I know it might be hard for you to believe right now, but when Mother loves, she loves hard. Especially those she considers family.”
A squeeze of Mirryn’s fingers made Kiva realize, with some shock, that she was being included in that statement.
“There isn’t anything she wouldn’t do for us,” the princess went on. “I know she’d bring down entire kingdoms if anything ever happened to Jaren or Ori or me. She wouldn’t hesitate to do whatever it took to make sure we were safe. Just as I know the same would be true for you.”
Kiva was breathing heavily, unsure why Mirryn was saying all this.
With a final hand squeeze, the princess released her and finished, “I know it’s hard, but if you can find it in your heart to forgive her, to remember that it’s the drug and not the user . . .” She trailed off, seemingly unable to finish.
But Kiva didn’t need her to say more, already aware of how addictions worked, and more familiar with angeldust than she would have liked. Too many of Zalindov’s inmates had relied on the drug, especially those who were assigned to the harder work allocations, like the tunnellers and quarriers. But their dependence only caused more problems in the long run, their addictions hard to shake, the withdrawal almost impossible to survive, especially in a prison environment. And the risk of overdose . . . So many of them had chosen a numbing death over a pain-filled life, a decision that had never failed to devastate Kiva, each and every time it happened.
“Anyway,” Mirryn said when Kiva remained silent for too long. “That’s enough seriousness. I just wanted you to be aware that she has no memory of what happened, and it’s best if we keep it that way.”
Kiva wondered how much of Jaren’s abuse had been kept hidden from the queen, whether she was even aware of what she’d done to him before he’d learned how to protect himself. Kiva was willing to bet Ariana had no idea, just as she was willing to bet that Jaren had taken all of her drug-addled cruelty in order that his siblings might be spared.
I thought she’d stopped, he’d said after his mother’s attack. She told me she’d stopped.
Would Ariana have stopped for real if she’d known about the damage she’d caused him? Or was she too reliant on the drug to give it up? It was difficult to know for sure — and that was perhaps why her children had kept the truth from her. Kiva wasn’t convinced she would have made the same decision, not if someone she loved was being hurt, but nevertheless she felt great compassion for the impossible situation they were in.
“I’ll make sure we choose the perfect mask to go with your dress,”
Mirryn went on, acting as if their heavy conversation had never happened.
“You’re going to look absolutely stunning — I can’t wait to see Jaren’s reaction.”
Heat flooded Kiva’s cheeks, and she quickly deflected, “What about you?
Have you chosen your dress?”
“I have,” the princess confirmed, but instead of looking pleased, sadness touched her eyes. “It was a gift from my girlfriend, something she gave me before —” Mirryn broke off and looked away, quietly correcting, “Ex-
girlfriend, now.”
“I’m sorry, Mirry,” Kiva said softly.
Just as softly, the princess said, “I really thought she was the one, you know?”
There was so much pain in her voice that Kiva nearly hugged her, but she resisted, unsure how it would be received. “Did she ever write back and explain why she wanted to break up?”
The princess nodded and shared, somewhat bitterly, “Her family got involved. They didn’t think we were a good match.”
Kiva stared. “Don’t they know who you are?”
“It’s because of who I am that they don’t approve,” Mirryn said.
“Apparently they don’t want a princess in the family. Go figure.” Before Kiva could utter her shocked disbelief, Mirryn went on, her tone forcefully brighter, “There’s nothing to be done about it, but at least I did get a gorgeous gown to wear to my party. My ex always had such brilliant taste in clothes — wait until you see it, Kiva. Your dress is beautiful, but mine is spectacular.”
There was a desperate look in Mirryn’s eyes, as if she were begging Kiva not to ask anything else that might make her hurt more. But Kiva had no intention of doing so, not when the princess had shown her a rare kindness that day. Instead, she held her tongue as Mirryn went on to describe her dress, and then eventually bid her farewell.
Releasing an exhausted sigh as soon as she was alone, Kiva checked the time, and was dismayed to see that it was already well past noon. She immediately began panicking about everything she still had to do, before realizing she was fretting over nothing. Her trip out to Blackwater Bog shouldn’t take much time — assuming her grandmother didn’t have a midweek book club meeting — so she could allow herself a few minutes to relax.
But with Mirryn gone, Kiva’s earlier unease began to creep in again.
What she really needed, she decided, was some normalcy. Too much of her time lately had been spent with royals; she desperately wanted to see another friendly face, someone who didn’t live in a palace.
A plan quickly formed in Kiva’s mind: she would seek out Rhessinda at Silverthorn and, if she was free, enjoy a nice lunch with her, after which she would borrow one of the academy’s horses and ride to Murkwood Cottage. If all went as intended, she would be gone and back long before nightfall, with no one even knowing she’d left the city.
Pleased with herself, Kiva tucked her amulet beneath her sweater and left her room. Eager to avoid the masquerade chaos, she hurried to the front gates, nearly breaking her neck when she tripped over one of the many gardeners scattering luminium drops along the hedges in preparation for the party.
After an easy walk along the river, Kiva felt considerably more relaxed by the time she reached Silverthorn. Failing to spot Rhessinda in the sanctuary, Kiva entered the largest of the infirmaries, the one for treating illnesses and injuries, and approached the reception area.
“Excuse me,” Kiva said to the registrar, a young man with square glasses.
“I’m looking for Rhessinda Lorin.”
“What’s she in for?”
“Pardon?”
“Is she sick? Hurt? Tell me why she’s here, and I’ll direct you to the correct ward. They’ll be able to give you her room number.”
Kiva shook her head. “No, she’s a healer.”
“Oh.” The man straightened his glasses. “Sorry, I’m new.”
He said nothing else, so Kiva asked, “Can you tell me where to find her?”
Sending her a bland look, he replied, “Do you know how many healers work here?”
He then lowered his head and returned to his work.
Torn between amusement and incredulity at his rudeness, Kiva turned and left the infirmary. Seeing a small group of young healers eating lunch together on the grass, she headed in their direction.
“Sorry to bother you,” she said to them, “but can you point me in the direction of Healer Rhessinda?”
Blank stares and head shakes met her question, with one saying, “We’re novices. The only healers we know are our teachers.”
Sighing, Kiva thanked them, then returned to the path. As she debated her next steps, she passed three older healers, but none were able to offer any insight into her friend’s location. She was just about to try the remaining infirmaries when she belatedly remembered what Rhess had said about
working the morning shifts — and it was no longer morning.
With her lunch plans foiled, Kiva decided to cut her losses and treat herself regardless, leaving the academy and wandering back down to the river where she indulged in a chocabun — or three — and a serving of roasted vegetables flooded in gravy. Fully satisfied, she returned to Silverthorn and headed to the stables, pleased to be met by the same stableboy as last time.
Smiling at him, Kiva politely requested that he prepare her a mount. He squinted at her clothes, clearly noting that she wasn’t wearing a healer’s robe — nor was she accompanied by Rhess this time — but he seemed to remember her and, with a shrug, took off into the small barn. Minutes later, he returned leading Bluebell by the reins.
“You have a good memory,” Kiva said, handing him a silver coin for his troubles — courtesy of Jaren and his royal coffers.
“She liked you,” the boy said shyly. “I thought you’d want to ride her again.”
“The feeling is mutual,” Kiva said, stroking the mare’s dappled neck.
“I’ll have her back to you in no time.”
He didn’t seem at all concerned by her plans, turning the silver coin in his fingers and pocketing it with great delight as she mounted and left the academy.
That, Kiva thought as she rode away, had been much too easy. But as she turned north and began her journey to Blackwater Bog, a smile spread across her face, because it was about damned time that something finally went her way.
