Perhaps it was because I’d run from Keresken, from Jameson, but walking into another castle felt like trading bracelets for chains. All I could see were the strings attached to favors, the invisible restraints of expectation. Beneath any dances or feast, there was the weight of the throne. Even those nearby had to shoulder it.

So help me, after this, I would put eons and oceans between me and any crown on the continent. Never again.

I watched as the inevitable happened. People saw Uncle Reid and greeted him warmly, happy to see him. They nodded at Mother and Scarlet, and then seemed to take in that they were several members short of their usual party. And then they saw me on Etan’s arm. A stranger. There were squints and double takes, though most people were polite enough not to make a comment.

Every once in a while, I’d catch a murmur as we passed, always communicated in hushed tones.

“Who would the Northcotts invite from Coroa?” someone asked.

“Seems a dangerous alliance to make right now,” another commented.

It wasn’t as cruel as it could have been, or maybe even as vicious as I’d expected. Most people seemed more concerned than judgmental, but I still had the distinct feeling I wasn’t welcome.

“I suppose training to be queen made you acquainted with such talk?” Etan posed. He was trying to keep his voice light, and I appreciated the effort.

I grinned. “You should have heard what they said when I fell in the river.”

He looked down at me quickly in shock. “You fell in . . . Now is not the time, but I expect to hear about that later.”

I giggled. “I lost my shoes.”

“Your shoes,” he said, finally understanding Nora’s comment in her letter. He shook his head, smirking. “Unbelievable. Did Silas know about this?”

“Happened before he came, and he mentioned it the first time we spoke. Everyone knew about it.”

Etan properly laughed then. “Perfect.”

I was used to a crowded court, used to the noise and lack of space. It probably should have felt like stepping into a trusty pair of boots, but I couldn’t settle. I tried not to hold on to a single sideways glance as we made our way to the throne. The same gray-white stone was everywhere, and the windows were tall and thin, letting in light at long and tall angles. It was nice enough, but it wasn’t half so beautiful as the Great Room at Keresken. The tapestries were thick but plain, the chandeliers rudimentary compared to Coroa’s. It seemed there was no pride in the work, no pushing to see if it could be better.

I was so lost in the plainness of the hall that I didn’t see King Quinten until we were coming to bow before the throne.

“Your Majesty,” Uncle Reid greeted him, falling low to show his respect. Following suit, fighting every instinct in my body, I curtsied before that monster.