you’ll be the groom,” I said. “Will the queen’s men not recognize you?”
“I don’t hunt this far east of the city. The local foresters won’t know me, and even guards who had been stationed at the palace probably couldn’t pick me out of a crowd. I’m more worried about the Uprising.”
“What if Ambrosine gave them a description of you?” I asked. “She’s not openly hunting you down because that would contradict the kidnapping narrative, but…”
He brushed it off. “There’s nothing remarkable you could say about my appearance to set me apart.”
I guess “handsome, irritatingly so” wouldn’t find its way into an official description. Then again, Ambrosine had included that bit about my scar.
I turned to Navara. “What’s your disguise?”
“Your maid,” Navara replied with a curtsy. “She also wears a veil so as to ward off the groom’s lust. While you two are waiting for your turn, I’ll sneak away to see Father Frangos. He’s very old and doesn’t perform the ceremonies anymore.”
“Our turn?” I echoed.
“Your ceremony. Don’t worry. You won’t have to do or say anything. A priest will just pray over you, and that will be it.”
I scoffed. “This is foolish. Can’t we simply break into the edifice vault?”
“I don’t know how we would do that without drawing attention,” Navara said. “The vault is impregnable. My grandfather entertained fanciful fears about elicromancers trying to destroy our religious history, and he wanted to protect the treasure Father Frangos had acquired.”
I looked to Sev to supply an argument. Certainly he didn’t think we should endanger ourselves—and his family—only to learn that the sealed scroll was not in the vault, or worse, that its contents were useless.
Perhaps Sev could not resist his princess. Or perhaps Ambrosine’s dalliance with darkness had deepened his belief in the lore of the Holy and the Fallen, as it had Navara’s. He said nothing except, “However we get it, it would be nice to have something to bring to Commander Larsio tomorrow. He’s a brilliant man, but that won’t be enough to defeat an elicromancer possessed by a Fallen deity.”
Capitulating in spite of my reservations, I went to wriggle into Stasi’s best dress, green linen with sunflowers embroidered around the collar. The seams shaping the bust were a tad constrictive, and the hem hit just above my ankles. But Navara said poor and rich brides would be getting married today, and no one would think anything of an ill-fitting dress.
Sev exchanged his brown tunic and leather jerkin for a cream tunic with blue accents. He gave me one of his smaller hunting knives and a holster, which I fastened to my stocking-clad thigh.
At first, we journeyed through the woods on foot, leading Orfeo behind us, snapping to attention at every creak of lofty branches swaying in the wind. At one point, I heard a twig break and reached for my knife, but it was only a mother doe and her fawn.
When we neared the road to Enturra, Navara rearranged my veil and donned her own. Sev patted Orfeo’s storm-colored withers and waved me over.
I hiked up my skirt and set my foot in the stirrup, but soon realized the impossibility of mounting a horse in a dress. I’d always worn riding clothes. Today, I would have to ride sidesaddle. Watching me struggle, Sev offered his hand.
“Oh, all right,” I said, and he gripped either side of my waist, settling me into the dip of the saddle.
“Anything for my bride,” he said with a playful smile as he grabbed the lead rope and started toward the road. Navara crossed her hands primly and followed us.
My eyes began to ache from straining to see the forest through the lace pattern of my veil. I settled for staring at Orfeo’s dappled neck and dark mane until Sev stopped suddenly, on high alert. I looked up and saw two figures.
“Foresters,” Sev whispered over his shoulder. “Stay calm.”
As the men drew closer, I could make out their brown livery with the purple tree of Perispos on their chests. They carried bows and full quivers.
One of the foresters hailed us. Sev waved at him.
“Happy Benediction,” the stranger said, observing my bridal garb. “We don’t want to delay you on this blessed day, but we must stop everyone we see. Have you crossed paths with two young women in the woods? One blonde?”
The other man peered through our veils, but lost interest after registering our peasant’s clothing.
“No, but we’ve been watching for them,” Sev answered. “We’ve been praying for the princess’s safety since we