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“Oh yes. Women don’t have to wait for marriage before taking part in… intimate relations. Fathers are no longer allowed to accept brideprices for their daughters. In fact, they’re required to pay their daughters dowries upon their marriages to whomever they please, a sum reasonable to the father’s yearly wage.”

“What?”

“Oh yes. Some noblemen were rather upset about it, but the kinghad them beheaded for the threats they dared to throw toward the future queen. No one utters so much as a hint of protest against the new laws now.”

“How many new laws have there been?” I ask.

“I’ve lost count, to be honest. Just last week she decreed that lands and titles are to pass down to the eldest heir, regardless of sex. Oh, and younger daughters no longer have to wait until older daughters are out in society before attending events as they please.”

I blink several times, processing her words. “And the king just allows this?”

“He encourages it. His name appears beside hers on every new law. The people say he’s utterly smitten by his future bride and would never deny her anything. They’re already calling her the Shadow Queen.”

More of that anger and bitterness claws its way through me. Alessandra was supposed to be a bargaining chip, like me. A way for Father to get out of debt and save his lands. But she’s making laws and gaining favor with all the women of the court. She has freedom and happiness—in exchange for what? What has she suffered? She hasn’tearnedit. Not like I have.

I remind myself that I have everything I want now. I’m happy. That is all that matters. I take a fortifying breath and feel calm once more.

“Oh dear,” Evadne says, “did I speak too quickly? I know you have a hard time with that sometimes.”

Yes, because everyone thinks I’m an idiot. I’m an idiot while Alessandra is a powerful monarch.

“I’m all right,” I say. “Just a bit dazed. I think I’ll pay for my merchandise and go.”

“All right, then. It was lovely chatting with you. I’m hosting an event in a few months’ time, by the way. I’ll send an invitation. Any relation of the Shadow Queen’s is welcome at my estate.”

“Thank you,” I say, “but I’m not permitted to attend events until my mourning is over. The duke died, you will recall.”

“Oh, that’s another thing the future queen has done away with. Women don’t have to undergo a mourning period. Nor do you have to wear black.” She looks over my dress with sympathy. “You are, of course, free to make your own decision regarding the matter, but no one expects you to show respect to a man almost four times your age. Good day, Duchess.”

When I look down at the two long-stemmed candles in my grasp, I find that I’ve snapped them both in half with my grip.

As Lady Petrakis exits the shop, I stare after her. Why haven’t I read the papers? How could I have let all of this sneak up on me? When living with the duke, I always escaped to literature. To fiction, where I could pretend to be going on grand adventures or solving an intricate mystery alongside my favorite heroines.

I’ve missed so much. Alessandra snuck up on me.

It’s not that I ever wanted power or to rule anything, really. I only ever wanted my own freedom. Now I have it, but it feels… cheapened. It feels like less when I compare it to what my sister has.

And now I have no excuse not to attend her damned wedding.

If I simply skip it, she’ll know she’s won. That I’m too ashamed or jealous to attend. I can’t let her think that at all.

Really, what has she won? Constant scrutiny from those she rules over. A life of catering to her husband. So much responsibility.

I’mgladthe Shadow King didn’t pick me. Being a dowager duchess is far superior. I’m not like Alessandra, who is petty and vain and self-centered. I don’t need attention and pampering. All I’ve ever wanted is to be left alone to control my life. I have that, so it’s time to start exercising more control. More changes.

I’ll expand the library. More books, yes, that’s what I need. I don’t have to mourn? Fine. Good. Great.

Then I won’t wait any longer to find myself a lover.

Alessandra has her king, a man who will soon tire of her antics and eventually seek to control her, but imagine if I showed up to her wedding with a man of my own in tow? One who obeys me. One who is there to please me. One who is far more handsome than Kallias Maheras.

That ought to get her attention.

With my new resolve, I approach the pay station.

The man behind the counter asks for my account number. After I recite it, he checks through his records before placing a forced smile on his face.

I know that look. He’s about to deliver uncomfortable news.