Page 110

Such things usually soured his mood, but this time, they only dulled it. Other warriors might avoid him because he was now king, but not Ria. She’d taken him in—body and soul—like a gift, just as Toren did. If two people could care for him so much, then the loneliness he was subjected to during training truly had nothing to do withhimas a person.

If others couldn’t handle his rank, then it was their problem.

* * *

Ria’s workshopwas connected by a single door to the room where she did measurements and fittings, and she’d never been more grateful for that separation than now. She didn’t want any of the court ladies to see these designs and ask for something similar in an attempt to undercut Ria’s presentation. And some of those vipers would.

Not all, by any means. Most of the ladies were carefully neutral, and she respected that. Life could be difficult at court even without a newcomer with an uncertain social status to deal with. But there were also several women who had been genuinely friendly. Well, potentially genuine. It could be difficult to tell considering court machinations, but she’d never heard any dire rumors about the women in question during her years of doing fittings for her father. Ria knew more about the people here than they realized thanks to that.

She ran her finger down the soft, silver fabric on the nearest stand. This robe was Mehl’s, the cloth chosen to compliment his dark hair. Creating the spells for the embroidery had taken some time, but she was pleased with the effect. Green leaves the same shade as Toren’s robe and brown whorls that would complement her dress—if she ever finished it—gave the effect of a forest in the moonlight.

A fine match for Toren’s, a deep royal green embroidered with countless silver sparks of light. She’d added more of the earth-brown whorls at the hems of his, too. But what should she do for hers? Ria tilted her head to study the cloth pinned together on the dress stand. She was simply too undecided about the brown to actually stitch it together, much less add embellishment. What had she been thinking? It would go well with her coloring…because it was the same shade as her hair. Unless she wore her hair up, they would blend together terribly.

After a quick knock on the door, Tes—Ryssa—peeked in. “Your companion is here, ready to accompany.”

Ria smiled at the cheerful words. “Come in, Ryssa. See what you think.”

Understanding Ria’s caution, the princess hurried in and closed the door quickly before anyone could see. Though Ria didn’t expect any clients, there was always the possibility of a nosy, spying servant tipping off one of the ladies. It would be silliness to risk offending Toren with such an action, but she’d learned never to underestimate the wiles of a bored and/or malicious noble.

Ryssa frowned at Ria’s unfinished dress. “Oh, you can’t get married in brown.”

“Married?” Ria’s heart plummeted, and her ever-present nausea surged until she had to close her eyes and breathe through it. “What has Toren done now?”

“Got you with child?” Ryssa asked with amusement. “Linked with you and Mehl? I assumed a wedding would follow. Is that not what these clothes are for?”

Ria sighed with relief. “So Toren didn’t make any announcements at court?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” the princess answered. “But I wasn’t there since you weren’t.”

“Thank the gods,” Ria breathed, finally daring to open her eyes again as her stomach somewhat settled. “I thought you knew something I didn’t. These outfits are for my presentation, when the details of the breeding alliance are to be formally read. And before you ask, Toren and Mehldowant to marry me, but I refused. Our existing contract will secure our child’s future well enough for now.”

Ryssa gaped at her. “But why? It’s obvious that you care for them.”

“That’s why,” she said, trying to smile at the princess. And probably failing. “A tailor’s daughter as queen? I would be a constant source of embarrassment, if not active trouble. I can’t do that to them.”

The princess took her hand—then gave it a rough shake. “After all I’ve seen, I absolutely cannot imagine Toren being embarrassed about anything, and Mehl comes from equally humble origins. Your words sound more like an excuse than a reason.”

Ria scowled. “Easy for you to say. You are a princess, complete with all the training that entails.”

“Yes, training to be the sole monarch after my father’s death. Look how that turned out.” Ryssa’s lips twisted for a moment, but then her expression smoothed. “However, here…Toren and Mehl already have a routine. They would no doubt ease you into any new duties, not hand you the running of the palace and bid you good luck.”

There was truth in that. The kings didn’tneedhelp, and at this point, she was lucky Toren let her walk. Even so… “Court functions already verge on disaster.”

“Ria.” The sudden intensity on Ryssa’s face caught her by surprise. “You could stand in the middle of morning court making gowns, and Toren would stare down anyone who lifted a brow. He’d probably make your designs official court wear. As I said, you are not going to embarrass him. Also…I’m here as your companion. You helped save my life. If you want me to give advice in formal settings or any other, I’m happy to oblige.”

“I…”

Ria couldn’t think of a single way to express her lingering fears, but Ryssa didn’t seem to expect her to. “Think on it,” the princess said. “In the meantime, how about gold or cream for your dress? You could add brown, green, and silver embroidery to pull it all together.”

It was an excellent idea, one she started to explore as soon as the princess left to inquire about tea. But comparing fabric swatches was far easier than weighing Ryssa’s other words against her own fears.Wasshe only making excuses?

Or could she really dare to marry the men she loved?

Chapter50

Confessions

Toren picked at the salad in front of him, unable to tolerate more than a couple of bites before his stomach threatened rebellion. Ironic, since he’d chided Ria for not eating enough. However, not only was her court presentation tomorrow, but they’d received a formal missive from Ber earlier, delivered at morning court for maximum impact. He’d requested an official meeting in two days.