After a few more hours of getting nowhere in the archives, my mind too focused on dinner with the King, I return to my room. A long box sits on my bed, and I bristle at the invasion of my space. When I open the box, I nearly choke at the monstrosity inside. Mazus has sent me a dress. It’s gold and practically transparent, with two high slits up both sides that will show off my entire bottom half. The straps are dainty and the top dips low. Embroidered suns, the symbol of Velmara, cover nearly every inch of the dress. A plan forms in my mind, and I smile to myself, looking forward to seeing Mazus’s face when I appear in front of him. With that happy image in my head, I get to work preparing for the evening.

When I leave the chambers, the gown swishes over the black fighting leathers I wear underneath it. I’ve strapped daggers to both thighs, making sure the sheaths are low enough to be visible through the slits in the dress. While the top half of my body is still exposed, I used plants to weave between the deep vee and cover more of my chest. I also used the plants to widen the straps and left vines trailing down my arms. My hair is braided back in the same simple style I use when I train, and I’m wearing the black boots of a solider.

As I approach the King’s dining room, his guards bristle when they see me. I bare my teeth, and they stare me down. For added effect, I whisper to them, “Don’t forget who I serve.” They both blanch, and the effect is comical in their shining golden armor that wouldn’t do an aethers-damned thing on a real battlefield. They open the doors, and I enter yet another gilded room in this eyesore of a palace.

“Mazus, thank you for the invitation,” I say with fake sweetness and a mocking curtsy.

He looks me up and down, frowning for only a moment before recovering. “Nemesia, thank you for agreeing to join me. I should have invited you sooner. Please, forgive me for my lapse in manners.”

He sits at the head of the table and gestures for me to sit next to him. Instead, I sit at the other end, tapping into the aether so the plants at my arms move. They grow, wrapping around my half of the table and down the legs. Mazus’s eyes narrow—I’ve clearly irked him. I stifle my smile.

“I’m so happy to see you’re making yourself comfortable here in Velmara,” he says pointedly.

I take a sip of the wine, then smile. “Indeed. While plants are in short supply in the palace and city, if cultivated correctly, they would be quite successful here. Hot and humid climates are perfect for many species of flora.”