Ylva hesitated. “Please don’t do this to make us happy. I couldn’t bear to think of you miserable.”

Hanne sat down next to her mother. “What other options are open to me, Mama? I won’t go back to the convent.”

“I have a little money set aside. You could go north to the Hedjut. We still have relatives there. I know you’re not happy cooped up at the Ice Court.”

“Papa would never forgive you, and I won’t see you punished for my sake.” Hanne took a deep breath. “I want this. I want a life we can all be part of.”

“I want that too,” said Ylva. Her voice was barely a whisper as she hugged her daughter.

“Good,” said Hanne. “Then it’s decided.”

Nina still didn’t know what to think.

“Hanne,” she said after Ylva had gone, “the ritual of Heartwood is binding. If you’re offered a reasonable proposal, they’re going to make you choose a husband.”

“Who says I’ll get any reasonable proposals at all?” Hanne said, wriggling beneath the covers.

A proposal would have to come from a man of equal social standing who could adequately provide for Hanne and who had the approval of her father.

“And what if you do?” Nina asked. Hanne didn’t want that life. Or Nina didn’t think she did. Maybe Nina just didn’t want it for her.

“I don’t know exactly,” Hanne said. “But if we’re going to help your king and stop a war, this is how we do it.”

The preparations began the next morning in a whirl of fittings and lessons. Nina still wasn’t sure this was the right choice, but if she was honest with herself, the chaos of readying for Heartwood was shockingly, horrifyingly … fun. She was distressed at how easy it was to get lost in the business of new gowns for Hanne, new shoes, dancing lessons, and discussions of the people they would meet at Maidenswalk, the first event of Jerjanik, where all the hopeful young ladies would be presented to the royal family.