“Do you think there will be trouble?” she asked, slipping into silver sandals. She’d decided against the precarious heels of her prospective Grace days.… Couldn’t run in those.

“All the magistrates accepted Malachi’s invitation. The rest of Asa’s army has fallen in line.” Val used a thumb to wipe away her smudged lip stain. “I think Asa’s short but brutal reign opened a lot of eyes. Most Viridians seem ready for change.”

“I hope you’re right,” Serina said.

She kissed him once more, then fixed her makeup. Val opened their door for her and followed her into the hall. A swirl of color and light greeted them.

In the weeks since the Superior’s death, the Graces’ chambers had become a place of refuge for many of the former prisoners of Mount Ruin. The laws hadn’t changed yet, and many of these women couldn’t return to their families without the risk of being forced into service or marriage. Serina and Nomi had agreed that they should stay at the palazzo until it was safe for them to rejoin Viridian life. Until they could choose their own fates.

In the meantime, Malachi had been working on bringing the female relatives of some of the women to the safety of the palazzo: like Mirror’s and Anika’s sisters. And Blaze’s daughter, who had been harder to find.

Anika saw Serina and did a little spin, her red dress belling out around her glowing brown skin.

Serina laughed. “You look ready for your first ball.”

Anika rolled her eyes. “I feel like a peacock.” Her expression softened. “But you should see my sisters and my mother. They’re beside themselves.”

While Anika hadn’t lost her sarcastic humor, the defiance had disappeared almost entirely from her eyes. Now that her sisters and mother were here with her, safe, and she no longer had to fight for survival, she’d become this strangely cheerful person who Serina loved even more.

Serina hugged her.

“Dancing is like fighting,” Serina said. “Without the kicking and biting.”

Anika laughed. But she sobered a moment later, lifting her hem to show her own leather sheath, her own dagger. “I hope all we’ll be doing is dancing.”

“Me too,” Serina replied, her own smile fading.

Many of the women here had spent years fighting—it wasn’t so easy to let go of that drive for survival, and the fear of danger around the next corner. It had been Nomi’s idea to let the women of Mount Ruin continue to train, if they chose. They’d become a sort of protective detail for her, led by Serina, more effective because no one knew they were anything but well-dressed courtiers.

Hopefully, it would stay that way.

The Queen’s Graces.

That’s what Nomi affectionately called them. The thought made Serina smile.