Chapter 17
“It’s been far too long since you and I have had any quality time together,” said Angharad, her arm hooked through mine.
Behind us trailed a gaggle of our combined servants, though for once, Winnie was too preoccupied with chores to tag along.
The viscount sat nearby, nose buried in a book.
He occasionally spared us a glance, but he’d become more relaxed in his duties since leaving the border.
Undoubtedly, he believed I had taken on some protection by bringing a witch into the court. “Tell me, how was Hadria?”
It was so easy to fall into conversations with Angharad, to forget that she’d been the one to tip me off about Percy. She was as dangerous a player as any within the court and, more importantly, she’d proven herself a friend.
“I can only speak for Pontarena, but it was lovely there. They threw a ball for us the day we arrived, and I got to dance with the prince,” I highlighted, watching Angharad’s expression enliven.
“Up to then, our interactions were more…strategic, I should say. Though there were moments I thought he might eat me alive if I smiled the wrong way.”
Angharad laughed. “Yes, I would be willing to believe that. The man’s lust is palpable.”
I turned away to hide my embarrassment. “It was a nice holiday. I only wish I’d been there longer.”
“Oh, but there will be time for that!” Angharad soothed, patting my hand. “You and the prince will undoubtedly spend a great deal of time going back and forth across Antier, especially to check in on that little canal project.”
I shivered at the memory of Percy’s seething malice, the way he brooded when Nicolas put him in his place.
“That was a dreadful argument,” Angharad said. “It went on for quite some time before you arrived.”
“Do you suppose Percy has a right to his anger? It sounds as though the land was taken from him and given to what he perceives as a foreigner. He must have felt that Nicolas was waving it in his face, and right in front of the court…”
Angharad gave me a curious look. “Percy may feel how he wishes, but he has no right to question the prince. He’s lucky to be alive; tell me if I’m counting correctly, but I believe that was the second spectacle he put on in front of His Highness.”
I snorted, crinkling my nose in memory of Percy’s ruined breeches. “It was certainly quite a show.”
“Yes, a shit-show,” Angharad agreed. “But his outrage over the canal was a ruse to draw attention to his perceived injustice,” she continued.
“Of course, only a fool would side against the queen. We must stand united, both as a court and with our brothers in Hadria; others might view any perceived weakness as an opportunity to sow further dissent or launch an attack.” I nodded.
“At any rate, there is much to admire about the Hadrians. Why, their manner of dress is downright enviable. A lady could go much further in life, were she not restricted to these embroidered planks.”
She patted her stomacher, a lovely yellow and red that matched the leaves. It did not so much as bend from the impact.
I brightened, taking her by the hands. “I must show you something wonderful.”
Raising a brow, Angharad grinned and followed me back along the path to the palace interior. Quinn, taken by surprise at our sudden departure, dog-eared a page of his book and nearly lost sight of us. “A warning would be courteous!”
I stuck out my tongue, then took Angharad inside. We rushed to my chambers, finding Winnie as we arrived. The handmaidens filed in behind us, then shut the door, leaving the chamber rather crowded.
One of my girls brought over the Hadrian chest, though two of Angharad’s maidens had to assist in lifting it to the center of the room. She opened it and stepped back, allowing us our space.
I pulled out the dress I’d worn to the ball, showing it off as Angharad dug through the other silken gowns. “Aren’t they positively debaucherous?”
“Wonderfully so!” Angharad agreed, holding a light blue dress up against herself, one I’d worn on a tour of the seaside gardens. “Goddess, can you imagine?”
I pointed to the dividing screen where my friend might find some privacy. “Go try it on!”
Angharad’s jaw dropped and she hurried off, her handmaidens scrambling after her to assist with her undressing.
It was clear by the gasps and giggles that she’d begun to put on the other outfit, and once it was on, she stepped out with little shame for the vulgarity of the cut.
Her youthful figure, usually hidden beneath layers of proper court attire, was now on full display.
The silk clung to her slim waist and emphasized her long neck.
Winnie put down her feather-duster and came around to my side, taking a seat. She couldn’t withhold a contemptuous sigh.
“Why, it’s positively raunchy,” Angharad commented at her reflection. “Was my husband around many women in such attire?”
“Um…” I replied, unsure of what to say. Luckily, I didn’t have to elaborate; Angharad held up a hand, knowing the answer and its implications.
“Just as well, wait until he gets a gander of this,” she said, more confident in her own appearance than even remotely worried about the other women. “Please, my lady, may I borrow it? I intend to stir up trouble.”
“It’s yours,” I answered. “If you like. I found it strangely freeing. If only we could get away with this fashion in our own borders.”
“What do you mean? You’re the princess! If you wish to dress like this, I wager an army of ladies would follow you into that battle. Myself included,” she added, staring at her line of cleavage and the translucent material.
“Oh, good heavens,” Winnie muttered, getting up to polish some jewelry.
Considering the queen in her hunting clothes, I nodded thoughtfully. I wouldn’t be the first woman to make a bold choice of dress around here.
“Very well,” I confirmed. “Tomorrow, I shall attend breakfast in Hadrian clothes, if you’ll agree to join me.”
The other ladies of the court respected Angharad, as I’d seen in the Lady’s Chamber. If Angharad led the charge, no one would bat an eye at the changing fashions.
Angharad raised her brow, then went to change back into her original clothes. From behind the screen, she spoke again. “If Trefor lets me leave the bed, then you have my word.”
“Do you hear that, Winnie?” I asked. “We’re going to make a statement!”
“You’re going to freeze, more like.”
“Nonsense! We shall simply make adjustments. A few furs here and there.”
Winnie puffed out her cheeks. Before she could reply, Angharad was dressed once again, clutching the new gown in her arm.
She made an exaggeratedly delighted smile.
“Ah! I cannot thank you enough for sharing your keepsake. Unfortunately, I must go now—I promised Trefor I would enjoy lunch with him, and now I find myself actually eager to do so.”
“You must truly love your husband,” I mused.
“Ha!” Angharad gripped her sides, shaking her head as she gathered her girls to leave. The door opened and closed around her. “Love,” she said in parting, laughing her way from the room.
I watched her go with a puzzled smile, then turned. “I sense your disapproval, Winnie.”
My handmaidens took their leave with quick, polite excuses. Once we were alone, Winnie faced me.
“There is no way that woman will go through with your little plan,” she warned. “You go out tomorrow in a Hadrian gown and the only thing you’ll earn will be the queen’s disfavor.”
I frowned. “Angharad wouldn’t lie to me.”
“No?” Winnie replied, leaving it at that. She resumed her polishing.
I stood, coming around to look at her. “She’s my friend, one who has already proven her loyalty.”
“Great, but she will not wear that dress tomorrow.”
Sucking air into my chest, I prepared to bicker when I was stopped by sudden knocking. Quinn’s voice carried into the room, muffled by the thick wooden door.
“Lady Alana, Her Royal Majesty Queen Adelaide, Queen Regent of Antier, requests your audience.”
My heart stilled. Winnie cleared her throat. “One moment, Lord Quinn. Lady Alana shall receive Her Majesty presently!”
She motioned with her eyes for me to stand up, then went to allow the queen her entry. As she did, she bowed with due propriety, holding the stance until even after Queen Adelaide was well within the room. I curtsied, wary of the sudden visit from the kingdom’s highest authority.
“Ease yourself, Lady Alana,” the queen ordered, and so I did.
I met her eyes for perhaps the first time, registering the same shade of honey-red as the prince’s, only hers were much rounder.
“My son has requested for us to go see a play. An unprecedented ask, I must admit, and highly strange, but I am here to cordially extend an invitation.”
My mouth hung dumbly open. The queen turned to find Winnie still bowed at the threshold.
“You may come as well, Winnie Balden.”
Snapping up, Winnie stammered. “M-me, Your Majesty? Would such an honor not be lost on someone—”
“Oh, enough,” Queen Adelaide interrupted, rolling her eyes. She looked back at me. “Will you come along, then? It is the opening night for some comedy.”
I nodded once, then again with more enthusiasm. Quietly, I spoke so that Quinn would not hear me at the door. “I would be honored to accompany you, Your Majesty.”
“Ah, she speaks!” Queen Adelaide gasped sardonically, turning on her heel. “Let us be on our way then. We must ride to Caermont now if we are to make it before sunset. Lord Quinn!”
Quinn peeked into the room. “Yes, Your Majesty?”
She sighed, shaking her head. “I suppose you’ll want to come along too?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“I might as well adopt you at this rate,” she grumbled dryly, turning back around once she’d left the room and addressing everyone as if they were unruly children. “Well? Hurry it up, then.”