The Twelve Kingdoms by Jeffe Kennedy Read Free Book Online Page A

like a safe place. It’s not as if anyone would steal them.”
    She held up a pair of teardrop ruby earrings. “If only because everyone has forgotten they exist.” She handed them to me and also the coil of the necklace.
    â€œI’m not wearing them.”
    â€œYes, you are. Along with this matching bracelet and”—she made a frustrated noise as she untangled the gold circlet from a nest of silver chains—“your circlet, once I’ve had it polished. I’ll be right back.”
    Amused to find myself obeying, I donned the glittering stones. In an odd way, the Lady Mailloux reminded me of Kaedrin. Perhaps just because my old teacher had come to mind this afternoon. But, for all her scholarly ways, Dafne had a style of direct confidence that Kaedrin shared.
    It wasn’t exactly true, what I’d said about stuffing the jewels away. There had been days in those lonely years after Salena died, before Andi grew up enough to leave the nursery, when I’d locked myself in these very bedchambers and pulled all the treasure out. I knew how every piece fastened, how to make the earrings pinch my ears the right amount so they wouldn’t fall off.
    Once, I’d put everything on at the same time and preened in front of the mirror. Until I observed how silly I looked, a too-thin girl, drowning in the cold glitter of a dead woman’s unwilling gift.
    â€œThis is better.” Dafne carried the flat gold circlet on a black cloth, then paused, eyes going bright. “Oh, Ursula, you look positively queenly. Sit and let me put this on. Then you can see.”
    She worked the circlet into my hair, fluffing and smoothing it. “There! I think you’ll be pleased.”
    Because she wanted me to, I went to the mirror in the outer chamber. A lingering shadow of that memory made me half expect what I’d seen that long-ago day. Instead, the woman in the mirror took me by surprise. The way Dafne had shaped my hair, it lay close against my skull, coming to fine points in front of my ears, making my cheekbones look higher and sharper than usual. The gown and rubies matched my hair, surprisingly, within a few shades. The Heir’s Circlet, which I’d received in a ceremony when I was twelve—the proudest and most awful day of my life—was a simple gold band that crossed my forehead; I’d worn it rarely over the years, but it looked fitting tonight. Bolstering.
    â€œSee, Your Highness?” Dafne sounded well pleased with herself. “Queenly.”
    I could only hope my father would be as pleased.

5
    D afne hastened away to tend to her own preparations, cutting short the questions that I had planned to ask her. Clearly the librarian acted on some agenda of her own. I did not believe for a moment that anyone had assigned her to be my lady’s maid. No, she’d made herself my ally in this, which I supposed she’d declared on the journey here.
    I would not turn down whatever help Danu sent.
    Making my way to the feast hall, I took note of the surprised looks and recovered manners of those I passed along the way. I held myself to a stately pace—queenly—made easier by the odd sensation of the heavy skirts swirling around my legs. There was a knack to it, of staying inside the circular swing, so I wouldn’t tangle in them or step on the hem.
    The absence of my sword tickled at the back of my mind, nagging me with the sensation that I’d forgotten something. More than one court wit snickered that I slept with it, that I was naked without it, and other such bawdy insinuations that arise when a woman has no apparent lovers. In truth I felt exposed without a weapon. I’d learned early that I would never have my father’s brute strength, but by Danu, I also knew a blade evened my odds considerably.
    I never went completely unarmed, and I had good reasons for it. So I’d compromised by digging out a dagger with a ruby-jeweled