He glanced over his shoulder to where Camille was berating Edmund. Her voice drifted toward them as they neared.

“Honestly Edmund,” she said. “I don’t know what to do with this.” She put her hands on her head and turned to face Stev. “And you… ugh!”

“Camille.” Helena observed her. She couldn’t force her to honor the betrothal when they all now knew it meant a loveless marriage. But weren’t most arranged marriages the same? “What do you want to do here?”

She groaned. “I need to sit down.” Hobbling across the garden, she dropped onto a limestone bench. After a moment, she lifted her head to find them all watching her.

Helena wouldn’t tell the king… but she didn’t know what Camille would do.

The Gaulean princess pushed out a breath. “I will still marry you, Estevan.” Her shoulders sagged under the weight of this new knowledge. “Gaule needs this from me. And Madra needs to never find out about you two. You must end this. Now.” She pierced Edmund with one final look before stalking toward the door and disappearing from view.

Silence descended as Helena glanced from Stev to Edmund and back again. “She’s not wrong. I’m sorry, but you have to know this can’t continue. If it had been father who found you…” She tugged her dark hair over one shoulder to fiddle with the ends. “I’m scared, Stev.”

Estevan didn’t move, but Edmund reached for her and pulled her into a hug. “It will be okay, Len.”

Helena pressed her face into his firm chest as he stroked her hair. “This is Madra.” Her mask scratched against her face, bringing it to the forefront of her mind. A door opened behind them and a pair of priests in their sweeping white robes invaded the privacy of the garden. Tears hung in Helena’s lashes, refusing to fall. “Nothing is ever okay.”

Chapter Nine

No Madran princess ever forgot their eighteenth name day.

It meant they were one step closer to being rid of the mask for good.

Celebrations would stretch on for an entire week, beginning with the Madran games and cumulating in the ball where the mask would be removed once and for all.

Helena woke before the sun as anticipation twisted her gut. Today, she’d be allowed to be among the people. Not as the boy she’d pretended to be on her trips into the city, but as herself.

The jaunt to the docks to greet Camille had been her first journey outside the palace walls since she was a child—at least sanctioned journey. But she’d gone from palace steps to carriage to docks before returning to the carriage. There’d been no time to soak in the energy of the Madran people.

She sat up in her carved mahogany bed, lifting her eyes to the silk canopy overhead. They had given her everything. Her life lacked no luxuries.