“Which is why I have no intention of revealing what I am, only who,” I said. “I’ll infiltrate their aristocracy – we know she walks among them – and then I’ll parade around in front of her until she’s driven to act, and in doing so, will reveal herself.”

“Risky,” my father muttered. “For one, she might actually kill you, and two, you’re dependent on a woman who hasn’t made a mistake in five hundred years doing just that.”

“Do you have a better idea?” I asked.

He sighed. “I assume you’ll be needing some gold.”

Chapter 38

Cécile

Standing on a low podium in only a thin silk shift, I watched in the looking glass as the dressmaker deftly wrapped a tape measure around my waist. Her fingers brushed against the thick scar on my ribs, and I flinched as her hands twitched away from the unexpected flaw on my body. “You’re thinner,” she said to hide her reaction. “All the gowns will need alterations and the busts will require padding.” She wrapped the tape measure around my breasts again, glanced at the measurement, and sighed as her original assessment was confirmed.

Against my will, my cheeks warmed. Her assistant smiled pertly at me, but I kept my chin up and met her eyes. “I’ll have another one of those cakes, please.” To the dressmaker I said, “You needn’t go overboard – I’ve been unwell, but I’m sure I’ll be back to my usual self shortly.” Sadly, my usual self would still require the padding.

It was true that I was feeling better. The King’s compulsion was still with me, but it no longer felt desperate, no longer consumed me. While I’d be a fool to say we were back in control, our circumstances no longer felt so dire. With Tristan free, Lord Aiden was no longer a threat, and we had a plan, albeit an uncertain one.

Tristan would have stayed up all night plotting, but I’d insisted he rest. He’d not complained about his injuries, but there was no mistaking how much they troubled him. I wanted to offer to try to heal them, but I was hesitant to do so. It would require my channeling his magic, bending it to my will, and I did not think he’d tolerate that, given recent developments.

A night’s sleep had done me a world of good: my head felt clear and my appetite had returned with a vengeance. All of which made me very uneasy. I wished I could believe it was Tristan’s presence that was the cause of my improvement – that having him at my side had cured what ailed me.

But I couldn’t even allow myself to think such drivel. I’d no doubt it was his freedom that had eased my mind, but not because he and I were happy about it. It was because the King was happy about it, which meant all was going according to his plan. Tristan had left to talk to his father this morning, and I was worried about how that conversation had gone.