The Starlight Heir

I glance over at the gardener who’d been the harbinger of my misfortune, my humiliation intensifying at the teasing glint in his eyes. “What do you know?” I snap.

One well-formed shoulder lifts in an indolent shrug. “I suppose I know my place here. The real question is do you, Lady Suraya Saab of House Aldebaran?”

The truth stings, but he’s not wrong. This is the royal courtyard, not the inn in Coban; I’d behaved like a boorish country bumpkin, and I know my behavior will be nothing but fodder for juicy gossip. I force back a rush of self-pity as the man standing beside me hands me the now dusty headdress that Laleh had crafted so carefully.

“Thank you,”