“Yes, Mother?”
The queen’s dark hair had turned gray in streaks. Her face was pale and drawn, and she seemed to peer down her nose at her daughter even though they were the exact same height. “What mischief are you up to this afternoon? And why are your cheeks so red?”
“No mischief. I was outside. It...it’s cold.”
“It’s the dead of winter. Of course it’s cold. Why were you outside?”
It always seemed to be the dead of winter in Limeros. Lucia cleared her throat, immediately on guard under her mother’s close scrutiny. “I’m looking for Magnus. Do you know when he’ll be returning from the hunt with Father?”
“Soon, I’m sure.” Her lips thinned, and her eyes scanned the length of her daughter with distaste. “Your hair is a mess. You really shouldn’t leave your chambers looking so slovenly. Someone might see you.”
Lucia grimaced and touched her tangled hair. “I didn’t think I looked that bad.”
“Well, you do. I’ll have a maid sent to your room immediately to help you look decent again.”
Her cheeks felt tight, her insides turning hot as lava. “That’s . . . so kind of you, Mother.”
“Think nothing of it.”
It was never a question of telling the queen her secret. While her mother had given Lucia life, she’d never given her a moment’s kindness since. Lucia wondered if the woman was capable of showing love to anyone. She’d never seen evidence of it, apart from a few moments of motherly preening in front of company. Lucia had learned at an early age to seek approval elsewhere since it would never come from the queen herself. So she’d turned to books and learning. Any praise she received had been from her tutors. From Magnus. And, occasionally, from her father. She didn’t go out of her way to seek her mother’s approval, nor would she ever.
“Go back to your room, daughter,” the queen said, her voice clipped. “Don’t delay. We can’t have anyone see the Limerian princess looking like you do.”
“Very well.” Despite her disinterest in her mother’s opinion, Lucia had rarely felt as ugly in her entire life as she did at that very moment. She turned away from the queen and began to head toward her room, dreading the visit from the maid to help with her appearance. If her mother sent the usual one, she would be rough and pull her hair, leaving Lucia with a headache for the rest of the day.
In pain, but looking presentable. Just as the queen wishes. After her frustrating conversations with both Michol and her mother, she felt utterly annoyed. And tangled. And, admittedly, a bit frizzy.
“Lucia,” a voice greeted her before she reached her destination. “Darling, is there something wrong?”
Sabina Mallius stood in her path, blocking her path to her room. And now this, Lucia thought.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Lucia said evenly. “But thank you for your concern.” While she bore no strong love for her mother, she’d never speak ill of the queen to her father’s mistress.
“Let me guess.” Sabina gave her a pinched but sympathetic look. “You just spoke to Althea.”
“My hair is messy,” Lucia explained. Sabina was beautiful, from morning until night as if it took no effort at all to look that way.
“Your hair looks gorgeous to me—wild and free, not trapped and severe,” Sabina said with a wave of her hand. “Don’t let anyone ever tell you differently. Even your mother.”
While her words were delivered flippantly, there was an edge to them.
“Are you angry with me?” Lucia asked on a hunch.
Sabina’s eyebrows went up. “With you? Whatever for?”
“Never mind, I suppose. I apologize; I’m sure I’m imagining things.”
Despite the queen’s unpleasantness and lack of visible emotion toward her daughter, she had a great deal of influence over Lucia. She’d drummed it into her daughter’s head that being dutiful, being polite, and looking neat and polished were the main qualities a true princess should cultivate.
Also, that Sabina Mallius was evil incarnate.
Queen Althea was threatened by the king’s mistress living side by side with the rest of them all these years, even if she would rather cut out her own tongue than admit such a thing.
“Are you certain that everything’s all right, my dear?” Sabina asked. “You look terribly upset.”
“Do I?” Lucia had to work harder on her mask of indifference. Her brother had his perfectly formed, but her emotions still played on her face more than they should. Emotions could be used against her.
Emotions could trigger the strange . . . happenings that had been swirling around her lately like the beginnings of an ice storm.
“I’m searching for Magnus,” Lucia said. “I want to talk to him when he returns from the hunt.”