Shadow Cursed by May Sage Page 0,24

some. An extra mouthful is a treat. My family gives away food where we can. Every new moon, a knight drops off the same pouch of gold I earned as a soldier. Here, it’s a fortune. Most of the folk barter what they can—grain for leather, silk for wood. A gold coin is worth ten times more than it used to be.

I wonder when they’ll realize it should be worth nothing at all. At least until we’re out of this prison.

"Ready!" Neb screeches, running back in the kitchen.

My eyes soften. It's been a while since I've seen her like this. She used to wear pinks and blues and greens, with backless cuts and scandalously slit skirts that drove my parents close to the edge of madness. I've nearly murdered plenty of fellow soldiers for looking at her. Recently, she's been in leathers, always ready for the worst, like the rest of us.

Today, she's opted for a dress I've never seen: a blue silk affair with long sleeves, gathered at the waist and falling in soft waves that would have looked regal had her skirts not ended around her mid-thighs. She's wearing flat-soled boots that hike up over her knees, blending practicality with her sense of impropriety. I love it.

My father swears under his breath. "If your mother was here!"

Neb isn't one to be shamed. "She isn't." She winks at Da, and we exchange a grin.

I may have to stab a few fae today, but she's certainly old enough to decide what she should wear.

"You're meeting the queen!" I didn't think Da's pitch could reach so high. When I say nothing, he looks to the pages for support, but the sprite and his goblin companion are suddenly fascinated by what's left of their rolls.

"Well, I haven't had time to sew anything else, and I'm not going in leathers."

To end the pointless argument, I clear my throat. "When the high queen calls, we're supposed to answer. We're late enough. No time for an outfit change. Let's go."

The pages jump to their feet, visibly as eager to get going as I am. "This way, sir."

They lead us to the riverbank leading out to the Arm of Sea—the path we sailed to reach Whitecroft from the Wicked Court.

I stiffen. The bank is included in the protective walls Vlari erected, but all the same, everyone gives it a wide berth. Dozens of guards survey the area at any given time of the day and night, and we've taken care not to build too close to the sea.

Water is a temperamental element, and none of us land folk can boast to completely understand it. Some of us have a certain degree of sea blood, but true naiads, nixies, and merrows belong to the Sea Lands. Their allegiances change with the tide.

We don't have a clear agreement with the Sea Lands. The old high queen did attempt to form an alliance, predicated on her promising Vlari to one of their princes. That agreement was never sealed, and what's left of it died with Morgana.

Yet we need them now.

I find the queen right in front of the water, peeking down to the bottom of the river. Her mate grabs her by the middle and forces her to take two steps back. I shake my head.

One carefree queen. One caitiff consort king. Their reign wouldn't have mattered much during times of peace, but now, our leadership could determine victory or chaos.

The pages bow low. My sister curtsies. I incline my head.

The queen either fails to notice or doesn't care. Her attention is all on Nebula. "Oh my!"

I've never seen my sister blush so deep. I can tell she's reconsidering her choice of clothing. Then, the queen rushes next to her, and takes both of her hands. “The cut! The stitching! I've not seen the likes of it in—” She blinks. “I've never seen the likes of it. Who did this?”

I've never known my sister to stutter, but she does so now. “I—I did, ma'am. Your Highness.”

“You?” she repeats. She takes a step back. “Turn, child.”

Neb does just that, awkward as ever. "Oh, my," she repeats.

I wish I could record this instant and replay it on loop every time my little sister annoys me.

"I am—that is to say, I was—helping my mother in her tailor shop. Since I was little.”

Our mother used to serve as a maid to the daughter of the Duke of Derfort. When I was born, my father cared for me as she kept working from dusk