“First is the regular bread.” The witch’s voice trembled as the guard took a bite of one of the rolls. The guard frowned as he chewed, assessing, and gave a nod before turning to the second roll. “And this is one that I made.”

The guard took a second bite, his face unreadable as he turned to Lina. “The witch’s bread is significantly better, Your Highness. Worth the higher price.”

A sigh of relief spread through the onlookers. Green witches were some of the most well-paid of any coven. To retain their services cost many human coppers, but it also meant an employer would run a roaring trade.

“Darrow, send one of your people to speak with this Maxfeld,” Lina said, darting her kohl-lined eyes to her head councilor. “I will not make any one-sided decisions. If they suspect this is all true, have them see that the witch is reimbursed for his current wages.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” The witch bowed deeply again, his cheeks flushing.

“But I would advise you,” Lina added, turning her gaze to the witch, “to find a better employer once your contract is fulfilled. There are many businesses in Swifthill that would be eager for your magic. Don’t settle for less than you’re worth.”

The witch swallowed and nodded again, scurrying away to the back of the line.

Bri peered down the row of waiting townspeople—at least another dozen to go. This would be the tedious part of court life. She remembered nearly falling asleep watching King Norwood receive people. Even though the fallen Eastern King received only high-class fae, they tended to prattle on. She and Talhan took turns leaning on each other and nodding off. Their mother would poke them in the back to make them stand straight again. Bri could still feel the itch of lace, the ribbons in her long hair, the tight bodices her mother would force her to wear to pull her body into an hourglass long before she was mature enough to have such a figure. It had taken her too long to realize she could refuse her mother . . . even if it meant ending their relationship.

This will be you one day. Pay attention, her mother’s scolding voice echoed in her mind.

Bri’s gaze hooked on Lina again. The Princess didn’t seem the least bit tired, though she’d been running through the streets of Swifthill only hours before. If she was exhausted, she hid it better than anyone.

A couple approached next, the woman holding a swaddled baby in her arms. The gruff, bearded man threw a rose onto the pile, the petals already bruised from his tight grip.

The woman bobbed her arms up and down to keep her baby quiet as the man pushed her back into a bow. The woman flinched at the touch of his hand, such a subtle movement covered by her flustered smile, but Bri knew instantly. Lina’s eyes narrowed too. She must have spotted it as well.