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ass.
    So she would forget him. She had to forget him and her woman’s heart, and do what came next.
    â€œWe’re inside,” she said to Rhiann. “I’ll write a dispatch to Gwayne. See that it’s sent today.”

4
    A URORA dressed with great care in a gown of blue velvet piped with gold. With Cyra’s help her heavy hair was tamed into a gold snood. She wore small blue stones at her ears, a delicate pearl cross at her throat. And a dagger strapped to her thigh.
    After practicing her smiles and simpers in the glass, she deemed herself ready. She wandered the gallery, knowing that the art and furnishings there had been stolen from her parents or looted from other provinces. She gazed out the windows at the gardens and mazes and lands that had been tended by her forebears, then taken by force for another’s pride and greed.
    And she noted the numbers and locations of guards at every post. She swept down the stairs, meandered into rooms, watched the servants and guests and courtiers.
    It pleased her to be able to move freely through the castle, around the gardens. What threat was a woman after all, she thought as she stopped to smell the golden roses and study the rank of guards along the seawall. She was simply a candidate for Owen’s hand, sent to offer herself like a ripe fruit for the plucking.
    â€œWhere is the music?” she asked Cyra. “Where is the laughter? There are no songs in Lorcan’s kingdom, no joy. He rules shadows.”
    â€œYou will bring back the light.”
    â€œI swear that I will.” Or die in the attempt, she vowed silently. “There’s such beauty here, but it’s like beauty trapped behind a locked glass. Imprisoned, waiting. We must shatter the glass.”
    She rounded a bend in the path and saw a woman seated on a bench with a young girl kneeling at her feet, weeping. The woman wore a small crown atop her golden hair. She looked brittle and thin in her rich robes, and though her face held beauty, it was pale and tired.
    â€œShe who calls herself queen.” Aurora spoke softly and fought to keep the fury out of her eyes. “Lorcan’s wife, who was my mother’s woman. There’s time before the banquet. We’ll see if she can be of use.”
    Folding her hands at her waist, Aurora stepped forward. She saw the queen start, saw her hand close tight over the girl’s shoulder. “Majesty.” Aurora dropped into a deep curtsy. “I am Lady Aurora, and beg pardon for disturbing you. May I help?”
    The girl had shut off her tears, and though her pretty face was ravaged by them, she got to her feet, bowed. “You are welcome, lady. You will excuse my behavior. It was only a childish trifle that had me seeking my mother’s knee. I am Dira, and I welcome you to the City of Stars and our home.”
    â€œHighness.” Aurora curtsied, then took the hand the queen offered.
    â€œI am Brynn. I hope you have all that you require here.”
    â€œYes, my lady. I thought to walk the gardens before the sun set. They are so lovely, and with summer nearly done, transient.”
    â€œIt grows cold at twilight.” Brynn gathered her cloak at her throat as if she could already feel the oncoming winter. When Brynn rose, Aurora noted that her eyes were strongly blue, and unbearably sad. “Will you accompany us inside? It’s nearly time for feasting.”
    â€œWith pleasure, my lady. We live quiet in the west,” shecontinued. “I look forward to the dancing and feasting, and the time with other women.”
    â€œPartridges and peahens,” Dira whispered.
    â€œDira!”
    But Aurora laughed over the queen’s sharp rebuke, and glanced at the girl with more interest. “So we must seem to you, Highness. Country girls parading in their finery with hopes that Prince Owen will show favor.”
    â€œI meant no offense.”
    â€œAnd none was given. It must be wearying to