Camille crossed her arms over her chest as she sat down. “And here I thought Gaule was a mess with magic folk and non-magic folk at each other’s throats. But you people… Madra doesn’t even have magic to tear it apart, yet you’re just as broken as we are.”

“I think every kingdom has its cracks,” the queen said.

“Not Bela.” Camille leaned forward. “They’re so loyal to their queen, it’s sickening.”

“Didn’t she almost die for them or something?” Helena asked. “Father would never even join his men in battle. He thinks the trueborn royals are too valuable. Stev and Kass are forbidden from fighting as well. But I don’t see how one man’s life means more or less than any other.”

The queen stood and kissed the top of Helena’s head. “A worthy discussion, but one we don’t have time for, I’m afraid.”

Camille pushed on her cane for leverage to help her rise. “I’m to seek my own bath. I’ll see you soon.”

Helena nodded as she left to join Sophia and prepare herself for what should have been the grandest night of her life.

Now she knew it was only another night she’d have to play by the kingdom’s rules.

Helena ran shaky hands down the bodice of her sky-blue dress. Silver lace created an intricate design around the sapphire jewels sewn on by hand. She twisted her hips to let the flowing skirt swish around her legs.

The looking glass showed her a girl she didn’t recognize. Dark hair was piled on top of her head in a mass of curls. Charcoal rimmed her eyes and red coated her lips. She lifted the jeweled silver mask, crafted just for this occasion. As she tied it to her face, only then did she recognize herself.

Who was the princess of Madra without her mask?

Not even Helena knew.

She rose and went to retrieve the glass slippers her father insisted upon. He’d chosen her entire outfit to showcase the wealth of the royal family, even while much of Madra starved.

Only a man would craft glass shoes. They were horribly uncomfortable.

Helena paced the room, trying to get used to the heaviness of her feet, fearing the glass might crack with every step.

She put a hand on her stomach. Breathe in. Breathe out.

It was time.

A knock sounded on her door and Camille poked her head in, her face hidden beneath a mask similar to Helena’s.

Helena sucked in a breath. “What are you doing?”

“You’re not alone in this, Helena.” She smiled, her cheeks pushing against the purple fabric that matched her silky dress to perfection. “Come.”

Helena followed her out, taking each step cautiously.

Her brothers awaited her in the sitting room. She breathed deeply to prevent herself from crying and ruining every bit of preparation on her face.