Once he left, Reid eyed Gytha. “How are we supposed to proceed as if nothing is amiss?” Henrick was bedridden, a foreign army lurked nearby, and the king was here.

Gytha shrugged. “I guess you get ready for your wedding.”

“Do you want to help me, or should I call for Joce?”

The warrior woman snorted. “All servants were evacuated. Only soldiers remain in the palace, so you’re stuck with me. I need to warn you, though—I don’t know how to do hair or makeup.”

That could be problematic since Reid also didn’t know how to do either. Oh well, how hard could it be?

As she bathed and dressed, she couldn’t help but wonder what life with Dexter would be like. Up until now, she’d refused to think about it. But with the wedding only hours away, she had to face it. He’d said they wouldn’t share a marriage bed right away. However, what if the king wanted proof of consummation? What then? Her nerves started to flutter.

“Let’s apply your makeup,” Gytha said once Reid had managed to get the dress on and fastened correctly. “You are too pale.”

As Gytha applied powder to Reid’s face, Reid said, “When I first met you, I hated you.”

“Trust me, the feeling was mutual.”

“I’m sorry for coming into Axian and taking Dexter.”

Gytha lowered the brush, observing Reid. “I won’t pretend to not be hurt over it,” she admitted. “However, I understand. Just make sure you protect Dexter and Axian. That’s all that matters.”

Once Gytha finished Reid’s makeup and hair, Reid examined herself in the mirror. The simple yet elegant dress had been made from heavy, cream-colored silk, the scooped neckline embroidered with thick gold thread. A golden velvet mantle hung from Reid’s shoulders down to the hem of her dress. Gytha had braided a portion of Reid’s hair, but she’d left the rest to fall in soft waves around her shoulders. A crown rested atop her head, the braid coiled above it to keep it in place.

“Do you need to change?” Reid asked Gytha.

“Yes. Prince Dexter wants me to look like your attendant instead of a soldier.” When she rolled her eyes, Reid laughed.

After Gytha readied herself, they headed to Prince Henrick’s suite. He still remained in bed, Nara at his side.

Reid took his hand and squeezed it. “Has the healer been here?”

“She has,” Nara answered. “She suspects he’s been poisoned.” Her eyes filled with tears. “She administered a few potions, but none have worked.”

Reid sank onto the bed. Henrick’s eyes were glazed, his skin blotchy, and his body cold to touch.

“You…look…beautiful,” he wheezed. “I wish I could be there to see you marry my son today.”

“I wish you could be there, too.”

“I want to tell you something.” He clutched Reid’s fingers. “I was wrong.”