“Have fun!” He waggled his eyebrows.

They stepped into the front room and Edmund pointed to her hat. “Don’t listen to Dell. Put that back on. It’s better no one knows you’re a woman and puts any of the pieces together.”

“Did he think we were—”

“Yep.”

She turned. “Shouldn’t we tell him that’s not—”

“Helena.” His stern voice stopped her. “Dell will not speak of anything that happened here. It doesn’t matter what he thinks. But you and I need to have a discussion.”

As soon as he pulled her onto the street, all sound ceased. A cart passed by, but the wheels made no rumble. Helena turned around to stare wide-eyed at Edmund.

He sighed. “You already know I’m Belaen. Every person with Belaen blood carries magic. Mine is the ability to shift the winds. I’m pushing them away from us. We cannot hear anything. At the same time, I’m pushing a stream of air toward us to trap our own words.”

Helena was so lost in her thoughts of magic and the man she thought she’d known, she didn’t see the rock in the road. Edmund’s hand guided her around it before she fell, bringing her back to their current reality and what she knew was coming.

Edmund’s voice was low when he spoke again. “Tell me what you were thinking.”

She shrugged. She knew the answer, but he wouldn’t understand. How could he?

“Princess.”

He only called her princess in formal situations, letting her know he wasn’t asking as her friend, but as a member of the royal council.

“Helena,” he tried again. “You know the laws.”

She did. And she hated them. Tears pricked the corner of her eyes.

“If your father found out, they could take you from the line of succession,” he went on. “If the priests found out… Your birthday ball would be canceled.”

They both knew the priesthood would do something far worse to her.

To some, the ball seemed silly. Who cared about a party when freedom was on the line? But that ball was supposed to be where her father made his final decision in who her husband would be.

“I wanted to see my kingdom.” The words were small, but she felt every one. She was second in line to the throne. She would one day run the merchant guild.

But she was a princess of Madra, meant to be hidden away like a precious jewel. The law of Madra said few had the privilege to look upon a princess’ face until her wedding day. She wasn’t allowed outside the palace. When she attended balls and ceremonies, she wore a mask to cover all but her mouth.

It was a terrible law, but a sacred one in the eyes of the priests. The common man’s eyes defiled a princess just by gazing upon her. Those were the words of the priesthood.