“Do you have anything to eat?” she asked.

“I can get you some broth or some dry toast. Did you hear me? The queen—”

“I heard you. A cup of broth, please.”

“You should wash too.”

“Rude.”

“Honest.”

Nina didn’t have time for a bath, so she rinsed as best she could with cold water from the basin and dabbed her body with perfume. She didn’t mind the chill. She needed anything that would wake her.

She ran a brush through her hair, but there was nothing she could do about the sallow color of her skin or the circles beneath her eyes.

“Hanne, can you help me?” Nina asked when she returned with the broth. “I need you to tailor me. Can you make me look…”

“Less like a corpse?”

“Better. Saintly.”

Hanne moved her over to the window for better light. Her hands traced Nina’s face in soft strokes.

“You don’t have to hold your breath,” Hanne said.

Nina bit her lip.

“Stop that!” said Hanne, grabbing her chin. “You’ll ruin my work.”

“Sorry.”

Hanne’s cheeks flushed and she released Nina’s chin. She focused on her hair instead.

“Has your father said anything about the missing letters?” Nina asked.

“I haven’t heard him mention them to anyone, and they haven’t instituted new security protocols as far as I know.”

Then Brum couldn’t have realized they were missing yet, but he would as soon as that safe was opened.

“There!” Hanne said a moment later. “Done.”

“So fast?”

Hanne handed her a mirror. “See for yourself.”

Nina looked into the glass. Her skin shone like polished marble, a faint rose-petal flush on her cheeks. Her hair gleamed silvery blond. She looked like she’d been dipped in moonlight. “You really have been practicing.”

Hanne looked almost guilty. “Quite a bit. On myself. Why does the queen want to see you?”

“Her son’s health is failing.”

“Because of me.”

“Because I begged you to help me, to help both of our countries.”

“How is the prince’s suffering supposed to help Ravka or Fjerda?”

“I need you to trust me,” said Nina. “And Rasmus could use a little suffering after what he did to Joran in the hunters’ tent.”

“He doesn’t like to feel weak,” said Hanne.

“No one does. But he can’t just be kind when he’s feeling strong.”

A knock came at the door.

“Hanne.” Ylva’s voice was quiet but urgent. “Mila must come. Now.”

They draped Nina in Hanne’s dressing gown and placed a shawl around her face and hair so Ylva and Brum wouldn’t see the effects of Hanne’s tailoring.

Leaning heavily on Hanne, Nina let herself be steered down the hall and onto the litter the queen’s servants carried.

“She’s heavy,” complained one of the guards.

“She’s more trouble than she’s worth,” Brum grumbled.

“Papa!” cried Hanne.