Verena
Anika stares at herself in the big mirror in the queen's chambers.
I adjust the ruffles near the bottom of the mermaid skirt, ecstatic with the final fitting. This shimmering silver wispfloss dress is already a masterpiece, if I do say so myself—but on Anika?
Art. Pure art.
"What do you think?" I gush, admiring my work. "Ethereal? Gorgeous? Catwalk ready?"
Anika turns to one side, examining the ensemble. She's unreadable.
"Oh god, just tell me you hate it. It's the worst thing you've ever seen," I dread out loud.
Her lips turn up, and she shakes her head. There is a surprisingly vulnerable emotion in her quiet voice. "It's beautiful. It has just been a while since I felt like a real Bellavyr."
"That's your surname?"
She nods. "In Aurefeld, my family has long been lauded for their elegance and beauty. It's a point of pride for my parents."
That must have only added insult to injury when their title wasn't recognized by Snow White's grandfather.
"They're endlessly confused about why the queen is backing House Bellavyr now," she adds. "If they heard and believed the story you just told me, they would say you were brought to this world as a belated kindness to us from the Three Crones."
"And what would you say?" I ask, starting to change into my new dress.
I didn't add any frills, but Ida nailed my measurements. It's an off-the-shoulder dark blue gown made of high-sheen mirrorflax, with just enough of a train to look luxurious without wasting fabric I'd rather use on Snow White.
"That whatever force brought you into this world, I'm glad you're on the throne instead of that haughty bitch.
" Anika turns to study me as I finish sliding the dark blue fabric over my chemise.
"If you want to return to your world, I'll help however I can.
But it would be easier for me to be helpful if you stopped keeping me at a distance.
That goes for Snow White and Ingrid, too. "
I pause and then smile sheepishly. "Has anyone ever told you that you're perceptive as hell?"
She shrugs playfully. "Plenty of people, often enough. Anyway, the princess is also perceptive. She adores you and speaks of you constantly—which is how I know she's aware that you are trying not to grow too close to her and the rest of us."
I comb through my hair and grab a new veil and the silver crown. Then I face Anika, fidgeting with everything in my hands.
"Won't it be harder on Snow White if we become best buds and then I have to leave her forever?"
She fixes me with a look. "Friendship lost can't be worse than her beginning to wonder yet again whether she is worthy of the queen's time. Does she not deserve to be accepted with open arms, as she accepted you? You represent a mother to her right now, so be a better one than Reinhilde."
Damn. Anika goes for the throat when she's making a point.
And she does have a good point. Despite everything Snow White has been through, she was so fast to accept me. She's the type of pure-hearted person who believes there's good in the world so ardently that she chooses to trust people right away, even when she could look for a reason not to.
She's the opposite of me, basically.
If I was in Snow's shoes, and someone randomly possessed my evil stepmother out of the blue, I would have kept my distance. I would've protected myself from more harm at any cost, even if it meant staying holed up in my room, alone.
After all, isn't that exactly what I've done for ten years in my world?
Snow White is more resilient than I am. Even with the shit the evil queen put her through, she's still open and hopeful and…childlike, in a way.
She's still in the sparkling throes of girlhood that too many women are ripped out of far too soon.
So fucking help me, I'm going to make sure she can enjoy it as long as possible.
"You're right," I decide, smiling at Anika. "Snow White deserves me being fully present for her, at least until I leave this world. And when I do, at least she'll have Ingrid and Merrick around to soften the blow."
Donning the veil and crown, I offer my arm and add, "Plus she'll have you, Lady Bellavyr. Now, shall we?"
Anika flashes a bright smile and links her arm with mine.
"I think we shall, Queen Verena."
I feel like a fucking force of nature as I stride into Isenmere Castle's big, stained-glass-window-filled council chamber with Merrick on my right side and Anika to my left.
The two dozen members of the Privy Council are already seated around a massive, ornate wood table. It's beyond satisfying to watch as their eyes turn to Anika and one by one, their mouths drop open.
As they should, because she looks like a goddess.
The flawless wispfloss gown billows stylishly around her like tulle starlight, contrasting exquisitely with her dark mahogany complexion. Her tall, lithe form moves with grace. Her gaze is direct as she meets each stare on her way to take a seat near the head of the table.
Whatever they were gossiping about before we walked in, they're all stunned to silence now.
Merrick looks like he's on the verge of tears as he watches his niece take her place. He sits in the chamberlain's spot directly beside my chair.
I sit at the head of the table, leaving my veil on for now as I look around the table at the Privy Council.
"Let's start this meeting with an immediate vote. All in favor of sustaining my friend Lady Bellavyr and the rest of the Bellavyr family from Aurefeld as nobles within our fair kingdom, raise your hand."
All hands go up.
That's what I thought. Eat your hearts out, bitches.
Merrick opens a large leather-bound book and dips a quill into ink.
"It is unanimous. I shall record here that the Bellavyrs are officially titled in Isenmere henceforth."
As the quill scratches against the paper, one of the two noblewomen at the table glances over at Anika.
"That is an exquisite gown, Lady Bellavyr. Truly, I have never seen its equal."
"Thank you, Lady Silber."
"Is that wispfloss?" someone else asks.
"It is."
They all murmur and whisper, eyeing my workmanship in an admiring, gobsmacked way that makes me want to break into the Snoopy dance. It helps that Anika is poised perfection and ten times calmer under scrutiny than most people could ever be.
"Where did you get it?" a nobleman chimes in, with others nodding eagerly that they wish to know.
"Her Majesty gifted it to me as an apology for not honoring my family's title sooner," Anika replies smoothly, exactly as I asked her to.
A nobleman with a thick mustache on the right side of the table looks sharply at me. Eyeing my new mirrorflax gown, he sniffs.
"My queen, it has been some time since you have attended one of these meetings. Your presence is an honor, I'm sure—but wherever did you acquire such finery?"
"That is Sir Kranz," Merrick whispers low near my ear so only I will hear. "He is a well-respected former knight and a businessman, but I'm afraid he was one of Schultz's biggest supporters."
Good to know.
"I've hired the best cloth-spinner in the world," I announce to the Privy Council, assuming a tone I could picture the evil queen using.
"She's promised me and my closest friends—starting with Lady Bellavyr here—first choice in her gorgeous fabrics.
Isn't it high time to please our patron faerie, Ayna, by dressing in clothes beautiful enough to make the other kingdoms cry themselves to sleep? "
Several of them nod, including a very pleased-looking Merrick.
"Lady Bellavyr deserved a warm greeting to court.
As queen, I just wanted to make sure my present would outshine everyone else's," I smirk.
I look pointedly around the table, adding, "Since it is tradition for noble houses to shower voted-in nobility with gifts and compliments, I expect each of you to give the newest members of court a very warm welcome. "
Many Privy Council members nod idly, still fawning over Anika's dress and whispering to each other.
A few of them look irked at the idea of following that old tradition. Merrick told me it usually gets ignored, since it's seldom anyone is voted in as nobility, anyway.
Sir Kranz mumbles, "I, for one, think your very expensive-looking gift ought to be welcome enough for the family of a tavern maid."
Excuse him?
I pull back my veil to stare the nobleman down. While Anika was getting dressed, I took the time to stain my lips red with one of the queen's jars of cosmetics and even added a subtle touch of charcoal around my eyes.
I look fantastic right now—but my temper is shot to hell because thirst is still clawing its way down my throat.
I keep my tone chilling. "I'd love to know where you got the fucking audacity to call Lady Bellavyr a maid when you just witnessed her regain her title not five minutes ago."
He fumbles at the sight of my bare-faced glower. "My Queen, I only meant—"
"You meant that you don't respect the vote of this council, including your own. If that's true, get the hell out. I can replace you with someone who actually respects Isenmerian nobility—maybe your father, Lord Bellavyr, would be interested?" I add, glancing at Anika. "What do you think?"
She's careful not to smile too much, but I can tell she's enjoying the way Sir Kranz is sputtering now.
"N-no! Your Majesty, of course I respect the vote of this council! I just…misspoke."
"In that case, be a good boy and apologize to Lady Bellavyr so we can move on."
The middle-aged former knight turns red at my wording. "Excuse me?"
"I will, permanently, if you don't cough up a thorough apology to my friend," I warn.
He must value his life because he holds his tongue.
He's right in the middle of begrudgingly apologizing to Anika when the large door to the council chamber opens, and Wulf enters the room.
His glacier gaze goes to me at once. All the pearl-clutching nobles who look scandalized to see a northerner in this room don't seem to exist to the legendary warrior as he strides to take his place behind my chair.
Eris shows up, too, emerging in the reflection of one of the stained-glass windows.
"What have we missed, Fairest?"
I'm obviously not about to answer him surrounded by all these people—but I tense when a faint scent drifts over me. It smells a lot like apricot jam.
When my throat starts to burn again, thirst beating against the inside of my empty stomach, I know what I'm smelling.
When I squint accusingly over my shoulder at Wulf, I spot a smatter of red on his leather shirt, near his shoulder.
Sweat breaks out on the back of my neck.
Eris sighs. "I did warn him to bathe, but the brute was stubborn about returning to you at once since he was away so long."
What the fuck have these two been up to?
No, wait. Maybe I don't want to know. If Wulf was out hunting for dinner as a bear and ripping more things into pieces the way he did those poor, ugly wolves, I really don't want to picture it.
Vaguely, I've been aware that Merrick has already started a discussion of other things amongst the nobles.
But an irritated, elderly noblewoman speaks over the others.
"Forgive me, Your Majesty. It is always such a privilege to see a face such as yours, and we are all glad you have joined us—but does that northerner really have to be in here?
Your Favored have never been allowed to sit in on such important meetings before," the white-haired woman adds, eyeing Wulf.
"Why she has taken a northerner as a Favored at all is beyond me," Sir Kranz stage-whispers.
That gets some nods of agreement from other Privy Council members.
My temper is on a short leash thanks to the way this apricot blood is taunting me—so I'm grateful when Merrick steps in quickly, setting down the quill.
"My dear Lady Dorn and Sir Kranz, how ignorant you sound.
This is no mere northerner, but the fabled Huntsman of the North who has slain more monsters than any other living man.
Now he is our fair queen's faithful protector.
At least feign tolerance, if you cannot scrimp together the respect such a hero deserves. "
His spiel earns Wulf a few wide-eyed gawks from other Privy Council members as if they're finally putting a very handsome face to the name.
Lady Silber begins fanning herself.
Same, lady. Same.
"Whoever he is, it cannot warrant the way you have spoken down to me," Kranz scowls at Merrick. "You are but a chamberlain."
"I am also a Bellavyr."
The middle-aged knight guffaws. "You act so proud of that fact, yet even though you're the eldest Bellavyr, you've never honored or extended your family line by taking a wife to bear an heir!"
Merrick looks away, picking up his quill again. "I swore my life to building up this kingdom and this castle. A chamberlain's work is enough to honor my family. Now, let us move on with—"
"You weren't chamberlain of this castle for ten years, though," Kranz cuts in with a strange smugness, lifting his chin.
"I must say, I never saw you with a woman in that entire time—though I did see you with that goldsmith an awful lot these last few years.
In fact, I saw that same goldsmith trying to discreetly slip out of the castle as I was arriving ahead of everyone else this morning.
Does anyone here have any idea what business he might've had at Isenmere Castle? Visiting someone, perhaps?"
I saw Anika strap a knife to her thigh like the badass she is before she put on that dress—but now it looks like she's resisting the urge to pull it out and throw it right at Sir Kranz's face.
Meanwhile, many speculating eyes turn toward Merrick.
Though he remains composed, I clock his subtle distress and immediately declare, "The goldsmith was visiting me."
Kranz blinks. "What?"
"I asked Merrick to bring the goldsmith here.
I wanted him to create some lovely jewelry to complement more fine gowns I'll be crafting for my close friends.
In fact, I love that goldsmith's work so much, I may ask him to stay at the castle for a long time as he works on many more exceptional pieces. "
In my peripheral vision, I see a slight bit of tension leave Merrick's shoulders.
"Arnold is already crafting a necklace that suits this dress perfectly," Anika adds in such a matter-of-fact tone that even I believe her. "He's using stardust and amethysts."
That sells the others at once. The white-haired noblewoman gushes about how excellent the necklace will look. Other council members begin asking about the necklace's exact style and whether Anika might consider asking my seamstress to put in a good word for them.
They seriously are obsessed with pretty things.
It's like looking at a room full of me's.
Kranz is dubious, though, frowning over at me.
"But Your Majesty, why not use the goldsmith who has worked for the castle for seven years? Schultz chose him for a good—"
"Anyone who kissed Schultz's ass has no place in my court, including you."
That shuts him up for a while as the Privy Council meeting commences.