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He wanted to know why she had left her life behind, why she knew that the Flame Soldiers were always hunting her even after ten years on the run, and why she had that scar. He wanted to know everything about her, and yet he knew he had an even longer uphill battle to gain her trust now more than ever before.

His thoughts of Maude swirled in his mind and permeated every part of his soul as he filled the tub in his washroom with cold water. Once it was full and almost iced over, he plunged himself into the frigid temperatures, and only then did the thoughts of Maude’s fiery touch finally cease.

I look ridiculous, Maude thought as she was scrubbed within an inch of her life by the two handmaidens the Queen had sent for her.

When they were done, her hair shone as bright as freshly picked cherries in the summer. Her skin practically glowed from all the exfoliation and waxing that had apparently been necessary to complete before warning her.

The handmaidens, whose names were Gyda and Henneka, had dressed her in a simple navy gown that was form-fitting until her knees, where it fanned out into elegant waves. The modest cut bodice hugged her curves in a flattering way that was surprisingly flexible; the long sleeves of the gownextending to her wrists left her shoulders exposed. Thankfully, she wore no jewels, only the rune necklace from Herrick.

Henneka was braiding one side of Maude’s head and pinning it behind her, leaving the rest of her hair untouched, allowing it to frame her face and hang to her lower back in long, loose waves while Gyda dabbed a red lip tint on her mouth that matched her hair. Maude sat as still as she could, allowing the women to work around her, afraid she would ruin something if she touched it.

Wracked with nerves, her stomach had been trying to turn inside out for the last two hours while she was groomed.

“We are almost done, Maude,” Gyda said as she lightly ran a small brush covered in kohl over her lashes.

Relieved they hadn’t tried to call her by any title she did not possess, she only nodded slightly. Henneka, finished with her hair, placed a pair of silver slippers by her feet, which Maude simply refused to wear. Slippers were an impractical choice of footwear, even for women in the court. How was she going to be able to fight off someone if they attacked her?

She voiced her concerns, and the handmaidens only looked at her in bewilderment and asked if she had often been attacked during supper.

Maude chose not to explain that her father had frequently planned minor interruptions through their suppers growing up, so she would always be alert, even in social situations. Finding that she would not be allowed to step into the hallway without wearing the gods damned slippers, she finally placed them on her feet, but not before she sliced a small hole through the soles of them where the ball of her foot would be.

She tested the traction of her bare skin on the stone floors of her rooms and was satisfied. The next problem she faced was where she could place her dagger. Her gown left little to the imagination where her thighs were, but with the modest bodice, she was able to slide her knife very carefullybetween her breasts. If her posture remained upright, she would be able to sit comfortably enough.

She finally stood, as ready for the private supper with the Queen of Rivers as she would ever be. Looking around the room they had chosen for her, she was surprised at how elegant it was.

Decor at the Palace of Wind and Embers had always been garish: rooms bedecked in golds, reds, oranges, gold cutlery, gold trimming on every goblet, plush furnishings covered in red velvets. As if the desert and all the red-haired people weren’t enough, all the rooms had to be monochromatic as well.

The rooms she had seen in this palace so far had been tasteful.

Hers had been decorated in shades of light blue with large, dark wooden furniture. The canopy bed had white linen sheets and was shrouded in a delicate cloud of lacework that Maude had inspected when Gyda had first brought her here. Toward the back of the room, a large bay window with a small bench sat overlooking Veter.

She could see from her room that the city had been built into the existing landscape; the rolling hills provided a natural barrier of protection, and the interspersed trees throughout the city flawlessly connected as part of the basic organization of the city. The white buildings had vines growing up the sides of most of them, giving the city an earthy and natural feel to it despite the dense population. Maude could look out of this window for hours and still find something new to dissect, completely enraptured with the occupants, who seemed… happy.

A knock came from the heavy wooden door. Maude moved to open the door herself when Henneka almost shrieked at the action and ran forward before she could take another step. Bewildered by Henneka’s response, Maude froze in place, unsure of what to do as the handmaiden opened the door.

Herrick’s voice trickled into the room, the pleasant sound smooth like running water over stones.

“Good evening, Henneka. I came to escort Maude to supper. Is she ready?”

Maude’s heart took off with the rest of her nerves. She had not been dressed like this in a decade, having preferred the leggings and tunics of nomadic life more than the glittering ornamentation her mother had been subject to in her elegant ball gowns. Herrick had always looked at her like the warrior she was. Maude worried that he would see her differently now that she felt much like she had in her past, a trussed-up imposter bedecked in silks that she would rip in her haste to escape social encounters with boring nobles. She felt like a fraud, the beautiful gown hiding her true nature like a mask.

“I am,” Maude said, voice clear of the shadows that had started to creep into her mind.

Henneka opened the door wider to show Herrick’s large frame as he stood resplendent in the navy and silver colors of the Kingdom of Rivers. Maude felt her eyes widen a bit as she took in his polished form.

Herrick had brushed his long dark curls away from his face, showcasing his high cheekbones and strong jaw. He was wearing knee-length black riding boots and black trousers with a tailored navy tunic that had silver trimming around the cuffs and down the front in a swirling pattern.

Across his shoulders lay the silver fur of a winter fox, its pelt standing out against Herrick’s dark hair in a pleasant contrast. A black leather belt that held his hatchet was wound around his waist, much to Maude’s outrage.

Why was he allowed a weapon and she was not? Because she was a woman, and etiquette demanded that she be prim and proper? Absurd.

Herrick had always been handsome, but now he looked every bit the General of Rivers: intelligent, powerfully built, and elegant with a keen eye.

When Maude’s eyes finally made their way back to his face, she saw that he had been looking over her appearance just as intently and seemed to be as speechless as she was. Rare insecurity flared in her as she ran her hands down the front of the navy gown that had coincidentally matched him.

“I know it’s a lot; I wasn’t given much of a choice,” Maude said nervously.

Still, the General said nothing and only stared at her, his full lips parted. As if he realized he had been almost slack-jawed, he shut his mouth and cleared his throat quickly before responding.