Rule of Wolves (King of Scars #2) - Leigh Bardugo Page 0,30

Nina to braid her hair. On second thought, probably best Kaz wasn’t here.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Hanne asked, as she sat at their shared dressing table while Nina applied sweet almond oil to curl the short strands of her hair, red and gold and brown. A color she could never quite name.

“If I am?”

“I guess I’m jealous. I wish I could.”

Nina tried to meet her eyes in the mirror, but Hanne kept her gaze trained on the array of powders and potions on the table. “This was your idea, remember?”

“Yes, but I forgot how much I hate all of it.”

“What’s to hate?” Nina asked. “Silk, velvet, jewels.”

“Easy for you to say. I feel even more wrong than usual.”

Nina couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She wiped her hands clean of oil and sat down on the bench. “You’re not an awkward little girl anymore, Hanne. Why can’t you see how gorgeous you are?”

Hanne picked up one of the little jars of shimmer. “You don’t understand.”

“No, I don’t.” Nina plucked the jar from her fingers and turned Hanne toward her. “Close your eyes.” Hanne obeyed and Nina dotted the cream onto her lids, then her cheekbones. It had a subtle, pearlescent sheen that made it look like Hanne had been dusted in sunlight.

“Do you know the only time I felt beautiful?” Hanne asked, her eyes still closed.

“When?”

“When I tailored myself to look like a soldier. When we cut off all my hair.”

Nina exchanged the shimmer for a pot of rose balm. “But you didn’t look like you.”

Hanne’s eyes opened. “But I did. For the first time. The only time.”

Nina dipped her thumb into the pot of balm and dabbed it onto Hanne’s lower lip, spreading it in a slow sweep across the soft cushion of her mouth.

“I can grow my hair, you know,” Hanne said, and moved her hand over one side of her scalp. Sure enough, a reddish-brown curl twined over Hanne’s ear.

Nina stared. “That’s powerful tailoring, Hanne.”

“I’ve been practicing.” She drew a small scissors from a drawer and snipped away the curl. “But I like it the way it is.”

“Then leave it.” Nina took the scissors from her hand, brushed her thumb over Hanne’s knuckles. “In trousers. In gowns. With your hair shorn or in braids or down your back. You have never not been beautiful.”

“Do you mean that?”

“I do.”

“I’ve never seen your real face,” Hanne said, eyes scanning Nina’s features. “Do you miss it?”

Nina wasn’t sure how to answer. For a long while she’d startled every time she glimpsed herself in the mirror, when she caught sight of the pale blue eyes, the silky fall of straight blond hair. But the longer she played Mila, the easier it became, and sometimes that scared her. Who will I be when I return to Ravka? Who am I now?

“I’m beginning to forget what I looked like,” she said. “But trust me, I was gorgeous.”

Hanne took her hand. “You still are.”

The door flew open and Ylva bustled in, trailed by maids, their arms full of dresses.

Hanne and Nina leapt up from the bench, watching the maids heap piles of silk and tulle onto the bed.

“Oh, Mila, you’ve worked wonders!” Ylva said when she saw Hanne’s gilded cheeks. “She looks like a princess.”

Hanne smiled, but Nina saw the way her fists clenched. What have we gotten ourselves into? Heartwood might give them everything they wanted—access to Vadik Demidov, a chance to locate Queen Tatiana’s love letters. But what had seemed like a straight path felt more like a maze. Nina picked up the amber curl Hanne had dropped onto the dressing table and slipped it into her pocket. Whatever happens, I’ll find a way out, she vowed. For both of us.

* * *

Maidenswalk took place in the grand ballroom in the royal palace, just a short walk from their rooms on the White Island. Nina had been here before in a different disguise, dressed as a member of the notorious Menagerie. That had been during Hringkälla, a raucous party full of indulgence. This afternoon was a more staid affair. Noble families packed the alcoves. A long, pale gray carpet stretched the length of the room, pausing at a giant fountain in the shape of two dancing wolves, and then rolling on to the dais where the royal family sat. Gathered there, the Grimjers looked like a beautiful collection of dolls—all blond, blue-eyed, and sylphlike. They liked to claim Hedjut blood, and the evidence could be seen in the tawny warmth of