the tower, but then it all dissolved into childish nonsense and laughter that Levana couldn’t follow.
It would be over after today, and that knowledge was a relief. She could stop thinking about the princess that would one day grow up and take everything from her. She could stop being haunted by the ghost of her sister and the legacy she’d left behind.
After today, all of Luna would be hers.
It had occurred to her that she could choose not to take Winter away after all, and to let the fire claim them both. Then all of Evret would be hers too. But then she thought of what a hollowed-out shell of a man Evret had been in the months following his wife’s death, and she couldn’t stand to watch that again.
“Oh, pardon me. Are you—”
Levana turned and the girl drew back with a gasp, before falling into a hasty curtsy. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I didn’t recognize you.”
The girl was no great beauty, with limp hair and a nose too large for her face. But there was a delicateness to her that Levana thought could appeal to some, and a grace in her curtsy that befit someone who had been hired to raise their next queen.
“You must be the new nanny,” said Levana.
“Y-yes, My Queen. It is a great honor to be in your presence.”
“I am not the queen,” said Levana, tasting her own bitterness. “I am merely keeping watch over the throne until my niece is older.”
“Oh, yes, of course. I … I meant no disrespect. Your … Highness.”
The giggling had stopped. When Levana glanced toward the playhouse, she saw that the girls had pulled back the blankets and were watching with curious eyes and open mouths.
“Winter is being seen by Dr. Eliot today,” said Levana. “I’ve come to take her.”
The nanny stayed in her curtsy, uncertain if she was allowed to rise and look upon Levana or not. It was obvious from the stretched-thin silence that she wanted to ask why the queen would bother when it was within the nanny’s own duties to make sure the girls made their appointments, or why the doctor didn’t come see the princess here in the nursery. But she didn’t argue. Of course she didn’t.
“Winter, come along,” Levana called. The blanket fell again, hiding the princesses. “You have an appointment with Dr. Eliot. Let’s not keep her waiting.”
“Shall I expect the princess’s return this afternoon, Your Highness?” asked the nanny.
Levana’s gut tightened. “No. I will take her back to our private quarters after the appointment.” She watched as Winter climbed down the ladder, graceful in the way that only a four-year-old child could be, even with her chubby legs and a very full skirt. Her hair bounced as she dropped to the floor.
The blanket shifted again. Selene, peering out from the gap.
Levana met her stare, and she could sense the distrust from the child, the instinctual dislike. Jaw tightening, she sucked in a quick breath.
“I have a job for you.”
The nanny, growing uncomfortable, rose from the curtsy. “For me, Your Highness?”
“Do you have a family? Any children of your own?”
“Oh. No, Your Highness.”
“A husband, or a lover?”
The girl flushed. She was probably no more than fifteen herself, but that meant so little in Artemisia.
“No. I am not married, Your Highness.”
Levana nodded. Selene had no family, and neither did this girl—none that needed her, at least. It was perfect.
It was meant to be.
A hand slipped into Levana’s, making her jump.
“I’m ready to go, Mother,” said Winter.
Pulse thrumming, Levana yanked her hand away. “Go wait in the corridor. I’ll be there in a moment.”
Crestfallen, Winter turned and waved at Selene. A tiny hand snaked out from beneath the blanket and waved back, before Winter floated out of the nursery.
Now. She would do it now.
After today, it would all be over.
Levana pressed her hands against her skirt, wicking off her damp palms. “Go into the playhouse,” she said, almost like she was speaking to herself. “Go be with the princess. It is almost time for her nap.” She spoke slowly, impressing the idea into the nanny’s mind. Reaching into a hidden pocket, she produced a candle, already half burned. “It will be dark under that blanket, so you will want this candle to see by. Set it out of the way so the princess doesn’t accidentally burn herself. Near the edge of the playhouse. Under that blanket … the one with the apple blossoms. You will stay with the girl until you both fall asleep.