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“Very well, Kiva,” Brynn said, prompting a faint smile from Kiva —her first since leaving Cresta twelve days earlier. “Now, please disrobe and get in the bath.”

It was only when Kiva was soaking in the tub a few minutes later, allowing the hot water to ease her travel-stiff body, that she dared ask, “Will I be seeing my sister tonight? Before the king? I’d really — it would be good if I can speak with her first.” Quickly, she added, “Even better, do you know if my brother is here? Torell?” Did he even know where Kiva was — and where she’d been?

Brynn paused her scrubbing of Kiva’s fingernails. “I’ve been ordered not to answer your questions until Navok has had a chance to speak with you.”

Raising a brow, Kiva repeated, “Navok?”

“King Navok,” Brynn said quickly. “Forgive me.”

Kiva let the maid’s informality slide. “Can you at least tell me when their wedding is?”

There was another pause, before Brynn bit her lip and said, “I’m sorry Lady — uh, Kiva. I don’t wish to speak out of turn.”

Disappointment flooded Kiva, but she understood the maid’s reticence. “Never mind,” she muttered. “I’ll wait and ask the king.”

Thatwasn’t something Kiva looked forward to, but she hadn’t traveled this far just to hide in her — admittedly opulent — bathroom.

As soon as Brynn dubbed Kiva clean enough, the maid helped her into a gown made of crimson silk, the outfit much more formal than anything Kiva had worn at the River Palace, aside from the night of the masquerade. Both the front and back dipped daringly low, and the split up her leg went nearly to her hip, making her itch to hold the two sides together.

“Is there a cloak I can wear over this?” Kiva asked, indicating the amount of bosom and leg on display. Under her breath, she muttered, “You can see the whole of Wenderall in this thing.”

Her last wasn’t said quietly enough, and Brynn coughed to hide her laugh, her silvery eyes dancing. But then she sobered and said, “I’m sorry. His Majesty requested you wear this.”

The look on her face told Kiva everything she needed to know about the maid’s feelings toward the king, and how he would react if his orders were disobeyed. Despite Kiva’s discomfort, she didn’t want Brynn to get in trouble for something as trivial as a dress, so she adjusted her amulet as best as she could over her cleavage — drawing a curious look from Brynn, who clearly wanted to ask about the Vallentis crest but managed to hold her tongue — and allowed her hair to be styled until it flowed in waves down her back.

Only then did Brynn step back and say, “Beautiful.”

Kiva didn’t feel beautiful. She felt like a spectacle — abarely clothedspectacle — but she nodded her thanks, wanting to get the meeting with Navok over with so she could return to her room and plan her next steps.

Declaring Kiva ready, Brynn led the way out into the castle corridors, beginning a downward spiral. They passed only a handful of people, other maids and manservants dressed in similar black-and-red attire to Brynn, as well as gray-clad soldiers patrolling various hallways or standing at attention beside closed doors. It was only when they reached a quiet stretch with no one in sight that Brynn spoke.

“Can I ask — that is, if you don’t mind —” she started, then stopped.

“Go ahead,” Kiva invited.

“It’s just — months ago, word traveled around that you survived the Trial by Ordeal and then escaped Zalindov prison,” Brynn said haltingly.

“I did,” Kiva confirmed, “but only because I had help.”

“So — I’m sorry, but how —” Brynn cleared her throat, seeming embarrassed. “I heard that the Gray Guards were sent to retrieve you from there. Is that true?”

The Gray Guards — a fitting name for Navok’s soldiers, Kiva thought.

“It is,” Kiva said. She then answered what Brynn was struggling toask. “I’m not sure how much you know about what happened in Evalon, but the night my sister stole the throne, there was a lot of collateral damage. She knew I didn’t approve of her actions and that I would do whatever it took to set things right again, so she and Mirryn Vallentis drugged me and secretly shipped me off in a prison wagon to keep me from helping my friends reclaim their kingdom.”

Brynn’s eyes were wide with shock, and she repeated in question, “Your friends?”

“Jaren Vallentis — Prince Deverick, I mean,” Kiva corrected, her heart hurting just saying his name, “and his cousin, Caldon. Among others.”

There was a long pause as they descended another flight of obsidian stairs, until Brynn asked, “Doesn’t being friends with the princes go against everything your family stands for? The Corentine-Vallentis feud is legendary.”

“I told you, it’s a long story,” Kiva said, unable to hide the pain in her voice. “But Jaren and Caldon...” Her throat tightened. “They make it very hard not to love them.”

When Kiva glanced across at Brynn, she found the maid watching her, as if trying to decide whether or not she was lying.

“Trust me,” Kiva said defensively, “if you met them, you’d understand.” But then she remembered that the princes had visited Zadria for diplomatic purposes in the past, and she asked, “Haveyou met them? How long have you worked here?”

“Only a few months,” Brynn said. “If they visited in that time, then I didn’t see them.”