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“Anyway,” Sayyida said loudly, ignoring the princess. “Then I realized that I know so little about your family. Aside from your father, Fates rest his soul. Do you have siblings?”

I swallowed down the hot air. The matter of my family, or lack thereof, was coming up more often. I supposed it was only natural. People were curious about me, the female who had been engaged to a warden and then wed a prince. Although I should have taken it as a sign that people were trying to get to know me, it always made my heart ache.

Once, I’d had a family. Once, someone had known my true name—not the one my slave master, Lord Aldéric, had given me. Once, I’d been loved and belonged to others.

A sob ripped out of me.

An alarmed expression crossed Saga’s face. “Neve? What’s wrong?”

I forced down the lump in my throat and gave myself a shake, determined to rid my body of the sorrow. Of the cold somehow seeping into me despite being in a hot, dry sauna. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“Afterworld burn me. It’s not nothing.” Sayyida shifted to sit up and her black curls cascaded down her back. “What did I say?”

She looked so earnest, so like she cared, that I wanted to tell her everything. The actual truth.

It wasn’t the first time I’d considered this. Since Saga had learned who I was, the idea had drifted in and out of my mind, fleeting but present.

“She won’t say anything,” Saga whispered, which only made Sayyida’s stormy gray-blue eyes widen.

She picked up her towel, wrapped it around her, and came closer. “I won’t say a thing. Saga knows I will take secrets to the afterworld.”

Sayyida might be a sore loser and rowdy, but she’d always shown she was a true friend.

Perhaps telling Sayyida was smart. She had access to many ships, knew the crews, and when and where they were sailing. One day, when there wasn’t so much attention on me and Vale, perhaps Sayyida would help me stow away on one. Then I could put distance between me and the Vampire Kingdom, and Vale would be free to find and wed his soulmate.

Something in my chest pinched. I curled inward at the pain but forced myself to straighten out. As much as I didn’t like the idea of leaving Vale, we had a deal. And Icouldn’t force him to continue to be with me when he wanted to find his soulmate.

“I’m here,” Saga whispered and placed her hand on mine. “If you want to tell, I’m here.”

I took her hand and met Sayyida’s eye. “There’s lots about me that you don’t know.”

Sayyida shrugged. “Isn’t that the same with everyone?”

“Not to this degree.” I took a deep breath and told her everything.

Ignoring one of the Clawsguard’s assurances that ‘he’d get it,’ Sayyida opened the door to the dressmaker’s shop for Saga and me, her eyes still wide with wonder. They’d looked that way since I’d told her my story. Who I really was and what I needed to do.

Things were still sinking in for her, which I found understandable. I often couldn’t believe my own circumstances, and I’d lived through every minute of them.

“Guards, remain out here,” Saga instructed. “One to the back door. We’ll be fine inside the shop.”

I swallowed. The only reason Vale had let me leave the palace grounds without him and venture into Avaldenn with Saga and Sayyida was because his sister promised to take six Clawsguards. Vale would want the soldiers inside the dress shop with us, but if Saga thought they were fine out here, they probably were. It was unlikely that a vampire assassin could have already made it all the way toAvaldenn from the Vampire Kingdom. The Blood would have only gotten the news that I’d killed Gervais a day ago. Perhaps two days, if the winds had been favorable.

We’re fine. Completely fine.

For a couple more days, at least.

The inside of the dressmaker’s shop smelled like spiced tea and snow lily. My throat tightened because when I smelled snow lily, I thought of Clemencia.

Was she well? Was Anna? Caelo? We hadn’t received word of their well-being from Lord Riis. I made a note to pull the Lord of Tongues aside at the theater and ask him.

“Look at this!” Saga ran her hand over a dress displayed on a mannequin near the front. “So stunning!”

Sayyida shrugged, but I agreed with the princess. With exquisite beadwork on the bodice and a flowing chiffon skirt that shimmered in the midday light, the dusty pink gown was fit for a queen.

“You should try it on, Saga,” I encouraged. “It nearly matches your hair.”

“Perhaps she would make me one that’s an exact match.” Saga cocked her head. “I?—”