“Ouch.” Briar frowned down at the seamstress prodding her with needles.
The seamstress merely rolled her eyes, not the least bit apologetic.
“Stay still,” I called, chuckling at her squirming.
“I am,” Briar growled, eyeing me in the full-length mirror. “Shouldn’t you be getting fitted, too?”
“They left a very fine silver jacket hanging in my wardrobe.” I shrugged. “And a ceremonial sash to match the other guards.”
“I think you look better in gold.” Briar always had a better sense for clothes. I was happy to let her pick my attire often and let her mold the image of myself.
“I’ll wear what they tell me.” My voice fell into a murmur. “Since I’m a guard of Damrienn now . . .”
My sister paused, watching my reflection. “Could you give us a moment?” she asked the two women pinning the hem of her dress.
They rolled their eyes but nodded as if used to being dismissed by royalty.
“Just don’t sit down,” the one with pins in her mouth muttered. “We’ll be back.”
“Ten minutes,” the other said and shut the door behind them.
Briar hiked up her flowing lace skirts and stepped off her pedestal. She looked like a painting of the Moon Goddess, billowing white and silver skirts that cinched in at her narrowed waist, long lace sleeves, V-shaped neckline, and silver buttons down her back. Once the crown waiting for her was on her head, she’d be the perfect picture of a queen.
“You look gorgeous, Briar,” I said, stuffing another almond into my cheek, trying to let the act of chewing relieve how tightly I clenched my jaw. “I wish our parents were here to see it.”
Briar sighed. “I wish they were here, too.” She walked around the bed and put her hand on my forearm. “I’m sorry the King didn’t announce who you were straight away. Maybe he’s waiting until after the ceremony?” Her worried thoughts mirrored my own. “Once I’m married to Grae, it will solidify his claim to Olmdere . . . he’ll probably share the news then.”
“We’ll see.”
Briar smiled. “You’ll be a princess and a knight, Calla. You’ll be formidable. While I’m holding high teas and birthing pups, you’ll be galloping off into battle.”
Birthing pups. I shoved the bowl of almonds away, suddenly sick to my stomach. The roles of man and woman were so rigid, so constraining, completely controlling who we could be and what we would do with our lives. Everyone around me seemed so willing to play these parts, even Briar. Some even seemed like they wanted them. And while any mandatory role wouldn’t be one I’d choose for myself, the desires of an individual meant nothing in a pack. There was no point even considering them.
I glanced at my bedroom door, wondering when the siring of pups would commence. Gods, would Grae come here? Would I hear them together? My soul left my body imagining those sounds. My cheeks heated, my skin prickling as I swallowed back the panic. I scanned the room for wine, intending to get rip-roaring drunk at the wedding feast. There were only so many things my soul could take, and this moment had been one I’d been trying to reconcile for the last seven years.
I toyed with the amber stone hanging around my neck. “Are we sure we want to do this?” I asked Briar for the hundredth time, placing the cool back of my hand to my flushed cheek.
“We don’t have a choice. You think we can defeat a powerful sorceress all on our own, Calla? And even so, what then?” This had been an ongoing battle our whole lives. Briar’s countenance soured. “We have no brothers and even if we did, we’d still need these alliances. Our parents knew the importance of allies or else they wouldn’t have arranged this union. It was our mother’s dying wish for Vellia to see me to this day.”
“I just wanted to give you one more chance to back out, Briar,” I whispered. “If you didn’t want this, I would break you out of this castle myself.”
Briar bobbed her head. “I know you would.” She squeezed my hand. “But I have accepted my fate. Grae and I may never love each other, but we have agreed to be friends and work together to save Olmdere. It is the right thing to do. It’s what our parents would’ve wanted. For the good of the pack.”
“For the good of the pack,” I muttered.
“You’d save us all if you could, Cal.” Briar wiped at a tear under her eyes with a laugh. “You’re proud, stubborn, and single-minded.”
“If I were a man, you’d be praising those qualities.”
Briar rolled her eyes. “Let me do this. Let me honor our parents by honoring our traditions.”
My eyes softened. For possibly the hundredth time in the last few days, I had to remind myself that being part of a pack meant sacrifice.
“Fine,” I relented, though my stomach still churned. “But I’m telling you now: I don’t care for King Nero. He seems like a power-hungry oaf.”
Briar chortled. “We’ll steer clear of him as much as possible.” She turned toward the stained-glass windows that peered out over the lush summer forests. “The wedding and feast will be boring, but then we can run through the trees with our new family. The best way to celebrate our birthday.”
I smiled, staring out toward the sun setting through the endless sea of trees. The tightness in my chest eased at the thought of running, not having to circle the same patch over and over, but actually being able to roam.
The sunset cast long beams of colorful light across the room as a light rap sounded on the door.
“Let’s get on with it, then.” Briar sighed, giving me one last wink.
I clambered off the bed, expecting to find the seamstresses, but instead finding two guards.
The older one with a zigzagging scar down his cheek spoke. “The King has requested to speak with the Princess’s guard.”
“What?” Briar called from behind me.
We swapped bemused looks. “Will you be okay in here?”
I didn’t like the idea of leaving her. Everything felt on tenterhooks in the lead-up to the ceremony.
“Go, go.” She nodded. “I think I can handle being pricked by a few more needles while you’re gone.”
“So much for steering clear of the King,” I muttered. I balled my hands into fists at my side, steeling myself for another encounter with the Silver Wolf King.
Eight
My boots scuffed across the stone as I followed the two guards through the labyrinth of hallways. We arrived at a carved wood door, another two guards stationed beside it. I rested my hand on the hilt of my dagger as I entered.
The smell of old books hit me as I stepped onto the ornate rug. King Nero leaned back in his chair behind a painted maplewood desk. Over his right shoulder stood Grae. Arms folded across his chest, he stared daggers into the back of his father’s head as if he didn’t even notice me. I narrowed my eyes at him, observing that his right eye was swollen, a purpling bruise along his cheekbone. What had happened? My pulse thrummed in my ears as I bowed.