Chapters (64)
- Front Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Contents
- Pronunciation Guide
- Prologue
- Part One
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Part Two
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Part Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Part Four
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Epilogue
- Excerpt from The Sun and Its Shade
- The Night and Its Moon Playlist
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Back Cover
Amaris commented that at least market day meant they’d get a break from lessons. But Nox’s heart was as heavy as a stone sinking deep into her belly, as she understood the implications of attending market day. They’d both have to show face. Their time to be set apart had come to an end. She would take fifteen more years of sitting beside Amaris in reading, writing, and arithmetic before she’d choose to attend the spring market.
Amaris’s fingers hadn’t moved in several moments. Perhaps her reprieve from the day’s realities had come to an end as well.
“Are you done?”
“I’m not as good at braiding as you are. Let me try again.”
Nox combed her hair with her fingers, allowing her glossy tresses to cover any evidence of the small scar that peeked above the collar of her dress. She smiled. “It’s fine. I think it looks better unbound.”
“Then why did you braid mine!”
“So they can see that pretty face of yours.”
Amaris made a face. They drifted past the dorm’s cots to peer over the balcony onto the landing where prospective buyers were already filtering into the manor. The girls stood beneath one of the few decorations in the orphanage: a gaudy portrait of the royal family. A similar painting hung in the Gray Matron’s office. Nox wondered if such displays of fealty garnered them any additional favors when bishops and patrons came calling.
Nox had seen this oil painting in its ugly, fake-gold frame for fifteen years. She looked to see Amaris regarding the overly regal portrait too. She knew this must be a very old painting, as it hadn’t truly represented those in Farehold’s seats of power for a long time. The portrait contained the king, queen, and princess—at least, he once was their king, and she once was their princess. Farehold’s king had left the earth to be with the All Mother nearly twenty years before Amaris’s birth. The golden-haired Princess Daphne had also passed rather tragically, presumably during childbirth, after giving the kingdom its crowned prince. Maybe someday Matron Agnes would update her oil painting to reflect Queen Moirai and the young prince. Perhaps she’d wait until Moirai departed and the prince took his rightful title as king. Perhaps she’d never change it at all.
Amaris looked away from the portrait. Her eyes returned to the foyer below. Without looking up, she asked, “What’s expected of us?”