The Betrothed (The Betrothed #1) - Kiera Cass Page 0,18

smiling the entire time. Today I was bent over some embroidery on a new dress, but, as focused as I tried to be, Delia Grace could only be ignored for so long.

“Why won’t you at least tell me what you saw?”

I giggled. “It’s nothing more than a collection of rooms. It just so happens that Jameson lives in these ones.”

“What in the world took you so long?”

I pulled carefully at my gold thread, trying to keep the design clean. “We were gone for all of five minutes.”

“Fifteen!”

I looked over my shoulder at her in shock. “Surely not.”

“I was out there, waiting with the rest of court. I assure you, we were all keeping time.”

I shook my head, smiling. “You’ll know about everything soon enough.”

“Did he marry you?”

I nearly pricked my finger. “Do you think so little of me? King or no king, getting married without a witness is as bad as eloping. Do you honestly think Jameson would tarnish my reputation in such a way?”

She at least had the decency to look apologetic. “No. Sorry, Hollis. But then why won’t you tell me the truth?”

“Can I not enjoy a little surprise every once in a while? Or a secret? Goodness knows they’re impossible to keep at court.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, if that’s not true, then nothing is.” Sighing, she walked over, placing her hands on my shoulders. “If something important happens, you will tell me, yes?”

“Trust me, I wish I could tell you everything.” I pulled at my stitches again. The dress looked rather nice, and it was a welcome change to have something else to occupy my thoughts.

“Just tell me this: Are things going as I suspected they would?”

I pressed my lips together, looking up at her from under my lashes. Her responding smile was enough.

“Very well, then,” she said. “You’re going to need ladies.”

I set the dress down. “No. I don’t want to build a circle of false friends. Most of the girls at court have been staring daggers at me since the night of the ball; I don’t want them near me all the time.”

“You need people to attend you.”

“No,” I replied. “A queen needs people to attend her. I have no such title . . . at the present.”

“Hollis.”

“And if I attempt to amass a household, the lords will talk. It seems they’re still hesitant, and I don’t wish to do anything that might bring hardship upon Jameson.”

She sighed. “Fine, then. If you were going to ask one more person at court to see to your needs, who would it be? And, in the name of Estus, don’t you dare say that pig-nosed Anna Sophia.”

I sighed. “Can I think about it?”

“Yes, but not for long. This is no game, Hollis.”

I remembered when, not even a few weeks ago, I had thought of it all as just that. But Delia Grace was right; these were the paths of our lives being forged right before us. It was nothing to play with.

“Where do you think I’d find more thread?”

Delia Grace stood up. “The royal seamstress ought to have loads. I can go find her.”

“No, no,” I said. “Let me. I’m sure you have lots and lots of plotting to do for my life,” I added with a wink.

I left through the side door from my room in my family’s apartments, which let out into the middle of the castle, a bustling intersection of activity. I took a second to gaze around. Even though I had spent a significant amount of time at Keresken Castle, I still always found myself in awe of my surroundings.

The wide hallways were grand and ornately decorated; the stonework was even and beautiful; and throughout there were spectacular arches that formed canopies above every space wide enough for them. They often reminded me of upside-down bridges, their spindles coming down as if they wished to touch the tips of our expectant fingers. Magnificent spiral staircases looped through the three upper floors of the castle, and we’d been told the collections of sculptures and paintings housed here surpassed any of those that foreign ambassadors had seen anywhere else on the continent.

My family’s apartments were located on the inner edge of the East Wing, which was a respectable location. Those of great importance lived in the very small North Wing, which was closest to the Great Room, and therefore closest to the king. There were also empty apartments in the North Wing that were reserved for nobles and dignitaries. It was where King Quinten would