Page 53 of Rise of the Vicious Princess

Charis entered to find Tal struggling into a loose shirt that still strained against the bandage on his shoulder.

“You shouldn’t be out of bed,” she said sternly.

“I’m sick of lying around all day, Your Highness.” Tal sounded stronger than he had since being injured.

“It’s not lying around if you’re recovering from an injury.”

“I don’t think I have enough energy for another argument with you.” He eyed the bowl of spiced plum porridge she set before him and smiled. “Then again, I might feel differently after I eat.”

“Your friend Grim from the stables has sent a message every day since your injury asking after you.”

“Probably feeling good about his chances of beating me in our next game of roshinball.”

“Do you need pain medicine?”

“Not if I want to stay alert.” He ate a bite of porridge. “And don’t even think about sending Mrs. Sykes in to give me another sponge bath. I will manage on my own today.”

“Duly noted. How does your shoulder feel?”

“The shoulder hurts, but it’s healing.” Tal took another bite and then paused. “Did you eat breakfast already?”

Charis laughed. “I did. And the fact that you’re checking up on me today tells me you are truly on the mend.”

“I’m not up to full strength yet, but I can manage a few hours of activity before I’ll need to rest again.”

“That’s good news.” A knot of tension in Charis’s stomach eased. “I’ve had Reuben shadowing my every move while you recovered, and I’ll be glad to relegate him to his regular duties instead. Especially this morning. In fact, I may need your help choosing a dress.”

“Ah, clothing advisor. One of my favorite duties.” The fact that he said it with absolute enthusiasm made her laugh again.

“You’re particularly good at it.”

“My sister would be proud to hear it. She always was selective when it came to her dresses.” A shadow passed over his face, and not for the first time, Charis wondered where his sister was and what had happened to the rest of the family. The ones he never talked about.

“Did you help your sister choose her dresses?”

He looked at the window, at the silvery streaks of rain that ran down its length, and finally said, “Sometimes. She was kind to me. She was born from my father’s first wife, but sometimes she reminded me of my mother.”

Charis frowned. “Were others in your family unkind to you?”

His jaw clenched, and for a long moment, she thought he wouldn’t answer. Then he said, “I suppose you could call it that. Now, what kind of impression do you need to make today? Let’s find you the perfect dress.”

Charis met his gaze and thought of what she’d like to do to the assassin who’d dared to send an arrow at her heart. Heat ignited, burning through her veins at the thought of Tal risking his life for hers. At the terrible memory of the wet thud of the arrowhead striking flesh. “They caught the woman who shot you,” she said.

“Did they?” Tal’s voice hardened. “I hope we’re about to pay her a visit.”

“We are. I want to look both approachable and absolutely dangerous. See what you can do with that.”

An hour later, after bathing himself and donning his regular uniform, Tal had chosen a gown for Charis and then disappeared into his room as Mrs. Sykes helped the princess dress. When the handmaiden had been dismissed to her laundry and mending duties, Charis stepped closer to the mirror in her bath chamber, a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth.

The dress was a bold crimson, the color of freshly spilled blood, but the style was soft and feminine. A fluttering skirt with multi-length hems, an upside-down rose whose petals were gossamer thin. A fitted bodice with delicately embroidered snakes in cream and gold circling the wrists and the neckline. Thorny vines in the same cream and gold were embroidered on either side of the dress’s corset lacing. And a cream-colored sheath with thorny rose vines etched onto its surface was ready to attach to whichever wrist she’d prefer to house a dagger.

Her hair fell down her back in a riot of curls, wild and untamed, and her eyes glowed with fury. The woman who’d dared to lift a bow and arrow against Calera’s princess was going to wish she’d never set foot in Arborlay.

“Did you want one dagger or— Oh.” Tal stopped in the middle of the doorway staring at Charis, her daggers held in his hands but apparently forgotten.

“The dress is perfect,” Charis said.

“Perfect,” Tal breathed.

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