“As if any commoner would tell a queen that her beds are subpar.” Izzie scoffs. “The prince was dreamy, though. Such a shame I won’t have him for myself…”

“Maybe you’ll land someone just as good during suitor season.”

“Don’t remind me.” She groans, pulling the cloth away from my skin. “You should get some fresh air while Father is away.”

“He told me that I have to clean.”

“He’s not returning from his trip for a while, so you can start cleaning this evening.” She looks genuine. “Even if you only sit on the front steps, you need to let the sun kiss your skin. You’re very pale.”

“Okay,” I say. “I’ll run to the market for a book after I bathe. Want anything back?”

“Only if Mr. Lorimer has a new love story for me,” she says. “Don’t bring anything by that Shakespeare guy ever again. He can’t write a real romance to save his life.”

“Noted.” I laugh and grab a bar of jasmine.

Sensing that my legs are weak, Izzie grabs my hand and leads me to the tub.

“I’ll clean you up and help you dress,” she says. “And you can wear one of my scarves around your mouth so no one will see the scars.”

“Thank you, Izzie.”

“You’re very welcome.”

For a moment, I’m not upset with her for ignoring my existence over the past several months.

“You know what I’ve been thinking this entire time you’ve been on punishment?” she asks. “Your life would be so much better if you simply accepted that women have a place in this world. If you learned how to stay in yours, you would get the chance to truly live, you know?”

And she fucks it up just that quickly…

I remain silent as she thoroughly washes my hair and pulls it into two long French braids that fall down my back. When she’s finished, she helps me out of the tub and dresses me in one of her older beige dresses.

“Last thing,” she says, wrapping a matching cloth around my cheeks. “There. Now, no one will know anything.”

“Thanks, Izzie.”

“You’re welcome.” She walks over to the door and opens it. “Be back by sunfall.”

My heart is beating an uneven rhythm of grief and hope during my dash to the town’s bookstore. There’s a certain someone I’ve missed more than anything these past seven months, and I’m hoping that I haven’t been forgotten.

Please still be there, please still be there…

“Hey there, Belle!” Mr. Lorimer pushes a pair of spectacles up his nose once I walk through the door. “Here to pick up new books for your sister?”

“Always,” I say. “She wants your latest romance.”

“I figured she might.” He smiles. “Stay put while I retrieve it from the back. I have to make sure the proper pages are set aside, you know.”

“Of course.” I wait for him to disappear and walk over to the case where the other novels stand. I pick up a copy of Ulysses and flip toward the end of the book, scanning the margins for a note.