Page 47 of Wrath of the Never Queen

She bundles me up in a pale blue dress with thick fabric, long sleeves and a soft, warm lining. I don thicker shoes underneath. It is not as practical as the queen’s red dress, but it will keep me warm.

“This colour looks lovely on you, miss.” Inez beams as she tucks my long hair under the collar. “What a pretty picture you are.”

I blush and give a shy smile.

“Thank you, Inez.” I twirl for her, but the heavy weight of the dress means the skirt barely lifts. Inez claps regardless, delighted.

“It is no wonder the prince is so smitten with you,” she says before adjusting the buttons on my bodice. My heart flutters at her words, but I do not want to let it show.

“W-What do you mean?” I ask. I try for a casual laugh, but it comes out nervous and shrill. Inez gives me a knowing look.

“I see more than you think,” she says coyly.

“Well.” I sniff, trying to hide the secret thrill in my chest. “I think you might have the wrong end of the stick. The prince is most assuredly not smitten with me.”

“Oh, I believe he is.” Her expression turns stricken, her face tight. “Many girls have passed through this room. But this is the most he has ever requested their presence.”

I frown and lower my eyes, my mouth twisted to the side. I pluck at the frilly trim on my bodice.

“Do not misunderstand me,” Inez continues. “He made sure they were well looked after and tried his best to shield them from the king and himself. But since…”

“Since what?”

“Forgive me. It is not my tale to tell.” She stands back to admire her handiwork. Before she dressed me, she had taken the time to wash and oil my hair so it shone like onyx. I must agree with her—the pale blue suits me, stark against the darkness of my skin. I wonder if the prince will like it too.

We sit with more hot tea until there is a knock on the door.

“I shall leave you to it, miss.” Inez stands and curtsies.

As she leaves, the prince steps in. He inclines his head in greeting, hands clasped behind him and back straight.

“Good morrow, Miss Shivani.”

He is dressed in emerald green velvet, complimenting his tousled brown hair and fair skin. His eyes match the steely grey sky outside. When he sets them on me, all the thoughts leave my head. He looks at me expectantly, and I realise I have not replied.

“O-Oh,” I stammer and give a hasty curtsy. “Good morrow, Your Highness.”

A playful smile tugs at the corner of his lips. His gaze briefly travels down my dress before snapping back up—I almost think he is about to say something when he half-turns away and gestures to the door.

“Shall we?”

I stifle my disappointment and nod.

“Yes. Let’s.”

Despite my warm outfit, Inez was right—the castle was cold. As soon as I leave the warmth of my chambers, the air hits my face. Regardless of the chill, I find myself enjoying it. The air is crisp and cool, fresher than anything I have breathed in a long while. I inhale deeply.

“Do you enjoy winter, Miss Shivani?” theprince asks. I turn to him and see him watching me with kind eyes.

“No,” I admit. “Not usually.”

The prince contemplates this and extends his arm. After a moment of hesitation, I accept it and wrap my hand around his elbow. Even through my gloves and his thick sleeves, I can feel the firmness of his arms, solid beneath my fingers. I try not to think about it.

We stroll through the corridors leisurely, blanketed in comfortable silence. The guards stayed mostly out of our way, standing at attention against the walls. Their uniform has changed to a wintery white and blue, with thick fabric under their armour and comfortable gloves to protect their hands from the cold.

The prince leads us around a corner and another until we reach a steep set of stairs.

“Apologies, it is quite a climb,” he says, gesturing for me to go ahead of him. “Have you quite healed?”

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