Page 143 of Heir of Illusion

A warm smile breaks across Alva’s heart-shaped face. Her blonde hair is pulled back today, showing off her round ears. “The king was the one who sent us here.”

Confusion wrinkles my forehead. “Sent you here?”

“We’re supposed to help you get dressed,” Morwen answers as she opens the armoire and digs through my gowns.

I shake my head, unable to keep up with the conversation. “Dressed for what?”

“For the wedding, of course!” Alva beams, her eyes dipping to my collar momentarily.

Warning bells blare through my mind.

“Just as I thought,” Morwen complains as she slams the wardrobe shut. “There’s nothing here that’ll work, but I think I know where I can find something that will. I’ll be right back.”

She scurries to the door and disappears into the hall.

Swallowing thickly, I turn to Alva and ask the question I fear I already know the answer to. “Whose wedding am I getting ready for?”

“Yours, silly.” She grabs my shoulders, pushing me toward the vanity. “The king announced that you two will be married today.”

My legs give out, and I all but fall into the chair. The mortal maid begins brushing through my hair, combing out the thick waves.

“Please Alva,” I beg her, my eyes filling with tears as I catch her gaze through the mirror. “I can’t marry him. You have to help me get out of here.”

Her head tilts to the side, a confused smile on her face. “Why would I do that?”

My brow furrows. “Because I’m your friend?”

She laughs. “Oh, Ivy, you’re nothing but a rat masquerading as a queen.”

The words hit me with so much force I nearly slide out of the chair.

“Besides,” she continues, “this is exactly wherehewants you.”

I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry. “He?”

“The one who whispers.”

I squeeze my eyes shut as she continues styling my hair.No, I beg the Fates.Not Alva too. Not after I already lost Remy.

The door slams behind Morwen as she rushes back in, her arms overflowing with a bundle of white fabric.

“I found it,” she announces, a wide grin on her face.

Alva claps, bouncing up and down excitedly. “Let’s see it!”

Once they’ve unraveled the swath of fabric, I realize it’s a dress that’s eerily similar to the one I wore in my nightmare.

“Where did it come from?” Alva asks.

“I remember Tess down in the kitchens bragging about how she swiped it from the late queen’s closet after she died.”

My hands tremble. “This was Leona’s?”

“And now it’s yours.”

I shake my head, desperate to wake up from this nightmare.

“Morwen,” I keep my voice low as I pull her a few feet away. “You have to help me. I need to escape before the ceremony.”

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