Ivy sat at her easel, putting the last touches of detail on her painting of Briette. Small highlights here and there: the shine in her eyes, the spots of moisture on her lips. All in all, she was happy with it. She had a nice painting.

Like it? She asked Giles, who sat cross-legged in his window niche.

He gave a brisk nod. Looks great! When are you going to show Briette?

Whenever she's here next, Ivy said. Briette came in once a week to clean Ivy's bedchamber, so she'd see it soon enough. Briette wasn't known for strong reactions—positive or negative—so Ivy expected little fussing. She hoped for a smile.

She wiped her hands with a damp cloth and patted her hair, wound in two close braids around her head. Jaedis loved braiding hair enough that she didn't complain about doing it each morning. Even though she thought Ivy's reason was ridiculous.

"The bandits aren't going to get you!" Jaedis laughed.

"Well, I bet that's what every girl thought," Ivy said.

She felt safer this way. She took her walks in the gallery and hadn't stepped outside for weeks. Her only worry now was the coming birth feast. Would one of the bandits attend, disguised as a guest? Should she cancel the whole affair?

Look, your sisters will keep you safe. Giles hopped down from the sill. He wore a russet tunic today, with yellow tights that wrinkled around his ankles. Come on, Ives. You need to take your nap.

I'm not tired, Ivy said. But she was, of course. She cleaned her brushes and scraped the dried paint off her palette. Sighing, she walked to the bed and kicked off her silk slippers, first the normal one, then the one matching the shape of her cute foot. The toe area had to be cut wide and round, for her splayed toes, giving the shoe the look of a small gourd.

She lay back on the pillows, grateful she didn't need the tea today. Her breathing was steady. She stared at the underside of her canopy while Giles settled into his usual chair. After a few minutes, Ivy rolled to one side and pulled open the drawer of her bedside table.

You're reading that again? Giles asked.

I still don't know what to write back, Ivy said. I tried a few days ago, but I threw it away—it wasn't feeling right. Need to wait until I feel inspired.

Giles shrugged, stretched his legs, and leaned back in the chair. He would probably be asleep before she was. Ivy settled into her pillow and unrolled the letter from Prince Roald.

My dear Princess Ivy,

With all my heart, thank you for responding to my letter. I am curious about the fact that it was you who wrote to me, and not Maelyn. Could it be I offended her so much in the past that she doesn't wish to write to me at all?

That had been a hard beginning for Ivy. Yes—that was exactly why Maelyn hadn't written. Besides the fact that she didn't even know about Roald's first letter at all. Ivy didn't want to explain this.

I do hope not, but I must accept that this may be the case. Either way, I was very happy to hear from you, dear cousin. Yes—I remember cutting the meat for you! Such a sweet little girl, you were then. I imagine you must be quite a fine lady now.

Ivy grimaced at this. No, she was not a fine lady. She was a child that everyone had to take care of. Someone who still needed naps. She wanted to be a strong woman and a fine lady. But she was neither.

Thank you for your good advice, I could see you spoke from the heart. It gave me the strength to carry on a few more days. Things have not improved for me, I'm sorry to say. I spend all of my time with Teresina. She has succeeded in helping me shed a few pounds, but not enough to satisfy her. I am hungry almost constantly and it makes me very irritable.

As I write this to you, we are making ready to sail for Bella Reino. Teresina's father, Chief Counselor to the king, is hosting a celebration of our engagement at his villa. Hence, we must travel there. I don't wish to go at all—would much prefer to come to your birth feast. But unless the trip gets delayed by weather, I don't think it's possible. My time is not my own.

Ivy blew the air out of her cheeks. She had hoped for a weather delay, but her heart told her it wouldn't happen. She wouldn't see him at her birth feast. He was probably on the way to Bella Reino right now, with his bride-to-be. She wondered how long he would stay there.

My father is not travelling with us. If that sounds strange to you, it's because he attended the festivities of the last four women to whom I engaged myself. Not wasting more of his time, he said. His wife, Queen Laela, is coming in his stead, which should keep Teresina's father happy. My stepmother is quite a charming lady, and from Bella Reino too, though she doesn't have the look. She is as fair as the women of Morganoch.

Ivy felt only passing interest in King Jarrod's second wife. At the wedding feast last year, she could barely breathe because of the abundance of ferns in the banquet hall. Heidel had taken her out and treated her in the massive kitchen of Grunwold, directing the staff as if she were lady of the house. So Ivy had seen very little of the new queen.

I continue to struggle with Teresina. Two days ago, she took it in her head that we should go to the shops together to purchase things for our trip. I'm not accustomed to going to shops myself, but she thought we would enjoy it. We began at the tailor's, where she ordered the loose and lightweight tunics she claims men wear in Bella Reino, in such pale shades they all give me the look of wearing my mother's nightdress. While in the shop, I happened to notice a small man in a floppy red hat, kind-looking but unremarkable, and to whom I paid no attention. I was too busy insisting to my betrothed that I did not need six of these tunics for the trip. I didn't want even one.

It's for the heat, Ivy thought. They wore light colors in Bella Reino because of the heat. It would keep him cool. Teresina wasn't wrong for wanting this, but maybe her method was too assertive.

Our next stop was the jeweler's, where Teresina purchased more of those jingling gold bracelets which can be heard across whole wings of the castle. I tolerate them because they warn me of her coming. But then she tried to buy earrings for me, claiming that once we got to Bella Reino, she would find someone to pierce my ears—also customary for men there. A stormy brawl broke out between us and we drew the gaze of every customer in the shop. I held my ground and insisted (loudly) that my ears were not to be lanced. Teresina finally closed her mouth. But she bought the earrings, anyway.

Ivy couldn't help a smile. She was the only one of her sisters who hadn't 'lanced' her own ears, too afraid of the needle to even think of it. So she understood. Most women had only one hole in each ear, which was considered modest and elegant. Coralina had two, of course, and Jaedis, an astonishing three. But men of their region never had pierced ears.

The last was a shop of dried foods, which Teresina said we should stock heavily to avoid the detestable ship fare. This, at least, I agreed with and thought we could get through without turmoil. Then Teresina pulled me aside and said, "That man has been following us."

"Who?" I asked. She pointed out the man in the floppy red hat I had seen in the first shop. I realized he had been with us at the jeweler's, too, and was now at the dried foods. "Coincidence," I said to her. "He's merely shopping at the same places."

"No, I don't think so! He gave me a very strange look," Teresina said. "I'm telling you, Ro, he's following us. You need to go ask him why."

"I'll do no such thing," I said. "He looks harmless to me, and we have the guard." Which we did. A sturdy knight from the palace had accompanied us and could certainly handle a small man.

"No, Ro!" She gave me that insistent little push on the shoulder, which she does when she's trying to pressure me. "He gave me a bad feeling. Now go question him!"

"I'd rather not," I said with growing annoyance. "We can just leave the shop."

As I've mentioned, Teresina is a handsome woman with large, wide-set eyes. But when her temper is up, it gives her the look of an angry praying mantis. "I'm not leaving the shop! If you expect to be the man at my side, you will defend me! Now speak to him!"

At this point—mercifully—the man left the shop, and I thought I'd escaped an ordeal. But Teresina couldn't drop it. She gave me a furious look, followed the man outside, and I heard her calling out, "You there!"

Well, I couldn't have that. Couldn't subject that poor man to Teresina. I rushed out, passing her, and met the man on the walk. I explained the problem as politely as possible, but he acted very shocked and upset. No, he had not been following us. He had forgotten which shop his wife had gone into and was trying to find her. That's why we had seen him several times. He hadn't meant to pursue us and was extraordinarily sorry. Though I assured him he had done nothing wrong, he kept apologizing, over and over, almost to the point of tears, and I saw the fear of my father in his profuse apologies. It was dreadfully embarrassing for us both.

I returned to Teresina, who had gone back inside the shop and was now engaged in cheerful conversation with another lady. She appeared to have completely forgotten the red-hatted man, for when I mention him, she waved it off and told me we'd be having supper with her new friend. Which I resented because she hadn't consulted me. But I had to be gracious. And when we got to the house, do you know who the lady's husband was? The self-same man in the red hat.

Ivy shut her eyes and shook her head. How awkward that must have been!

Most uncomfortable supper of my memory. Teresina retold the story of thinking the man was following us, laughing it off as a great joke. Well, it wasn't to me or to the poor man, who never seemed to relax with me. As if he half-expected to be hauled away by palace guards for unwittingly distressing my betrothed. I could tell that when he looked at me, he saw only my father, which is something I hate more than anything in this world.

That was true, Ivy realized. Everyone saw Roald as simply an extension of his father—an extra piece, like an eleventh toe. Maelyn and the others were no different. It was understandable... but still wrong. Roald was Roald, and not Jarrod.

This is just an example of how my days have been. I know I must speak to my father, as you suggested, but I think I'll leave it until after the trip. I already know he will reject my request to end the engagement. I have done it too many times. But I give you my word, cousin Ivy, that I will not marry Teresina. Not even if my life depends on it.

I wish you a most happy birth feast.

-Prince Roald