“Milady, your bridal gown,” Pela, the royal seamstress, said with a deep curtsy.

Turning a page on the hefty tome in her hand, Princess Riella looked up and shrugged. Befuddled, the seamstress stammered. The other servants looked to Madame Needle for guidance. She nodded to Pela sternly. The seamstress coughed to find her voice and lifted the beaded gown closer to the bride to be for inspection.

“We selected celadon satin with seed pearls to complement your—um—lovely brown eyes.”

“Miss Whatever your name spare me the flattery. No part of me including my eyes is lovely. My older sister was the lovely one. She loved pretty dresses and idle chatter and the idea of marrying ridiculous King Wyck. Not me. Leave the garment. I will handle dressing on my own,” Princess Riella said without bothering to look up.

“But, milady.”

Jumping up, the princess crashed the book down on the stone floor. Next, she flung the gown to the ground and pounced on it. With a flurry of squeals, Pela and the others rushed from the bedroom. Only Madame Needle remained behind. Folding her arms, the older woman leaned against the door and studied the young princess. Riella retrieved her book and settled back onto the chaise. The princess started to read again. The housekeeper continued to watch.

“You may leave,” Riella said with a dismissive wave of the hand.

“And you may stop pretending. Stow the fake outrage. I have attended spoiled bluebloods since I was a mere girl. I know a performance when I see it. What is going on in your head?”

Close-lipped, the princess glared. They stared at each other.

“Why should I trust you?” Riella answered.

Madam Needle gathered up the gown and headed for the door.

“Of course, milady. Your late sister, sweet but simple chit that she was, I can still see her dressing for her wedding. Lilliette trusted me and look what became of her.”

Riella’s head shot up with surprise. Madam Needle left Princess Riella’s chambers with a slight curtsy. The princess rushed to the chamber door and locked it. Next she dragged a chair against the door. Riella felt the loose seed pearls crunch beneath her shoes as she headed for her trunks. She had insisted that her items not be interferred with but of course her belongings had been carefully searched. Riella drew out the severe mourning gown and held it up to the light. She hugged the gown to herself. Wyck only looked a fool. The slender vial of poison sewn into the boning pressed against her heart. My dear Lilliette, I will avenge you or die trying, Riella thought as she lay out the black gown she would wear down the aisle.