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quickly moved to do her bidding.
    Before stepping into the tub, Gwen caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror nearby and paused, staring at her reflection. Wide, almond-shaped eyes stared back at her, and the long, thick braid of her hair hung over her shoulder, a few strands loosely framing her face. Her body was lean and lithe with muscle from archery and riding, her shoulders supple, her stomach smooth and flat. She was willowy, with just the barest hint of curve at her hips, and her breasts were no more than a handful. Gwen had always envied her mother’s buxom figure, but had been assured that childbearing would round her more in the years to come.
    At the thought of carrying a future prince in her womb, Gwen trembled and tore her eyes away. The idea of marrying a future king was intimidating enough; giving birth to one would be even more daunting. With a sigh, she sank into the tub, her muscles relaxing as the hot water enveloped her. Lynet had turned the tub to face the large, open doors of her balcony, offering her a stunning view of the sun setting over the Elyri Sea. The shutters of her windows were thrown open to the warmth of the evening, enveloping Gwen in the smells of sand and salt. Lynet returned from burning Gwen’s ruined clothing and knelt behind the tub. Gwen closed her eyes as Lynet’s deft fingers began unplaiting her thick braid.
    “You must have had quite a hunt today , m’lady,” Lynet said in her gentle voice. She soaked Gwen’s hair and began lathering it with a cake of lavender scented soap.
    Gwen sighed. “I made four kills,” she said quietly. “Four men, chasing this poor woman through the woods. They meant to rape her.” Lynet gasped, her hands stilling in Gwen’s hair. “Do not tell Mother,” she added.
    “Of course not, m’lady,” Lynet said quickly, resuming her duties. “What a brave woman you are.”
    Gwen tilted her head back and Lynet rinsed her hair. She left the wet mass trailing down Gwen’s back and reached for a sponge. Gently but firmly, she took one of Gwen’s hands and began scrubbing it, careful to clean beneath each fingernail. “Am I?” she whispered.
    “Oh, of course,” Lynet replied cheerily, scrubbing Gwen’s arm with the sponge. “Everyone always says so.”
    Gwen turned and grasped Lynet’s hand, stilling the sponge. Tears filled her eyes as she gazed at the maid. “Then why can I not find the strength to tell my parents I do not wish to marry Prince Gaiwan?”
    Lynet smiled compassionately, her sienna fingers curling around Gwen’s dark ones. Her sire was a Daleraian, as was reflected in her freckled cheeks and warm, cornflower blue eyes. “Oh, m’lady, sometimes it takes more bravery to remain silent than to speak. You’re only nervous about becoming a bride and having to leave your family. You’ll see, everything will be all right. Prince Gaiwan is gallant and handsome. I’m sure he’ll make a very fine husband.”
    Yes, the prince is gallant and handsome, Gwen thought, but he is also arrogant and domineering, as all men of power are. How long before I am forced to submit to him?
    Out loud, she merely said, “They say this stretch of beach just beyond my window is the very edge of the world, but it is not, is it? Across the Elyri Sea, there is an entirely new world that I know nothing about. I am expected to marry its prince and become queen someday.”
    Lynet continued scrubbing, moving up over Gwen’s shoulder and to her back. “Aye, it’ll be a very grand adventure, just you wait and see. Within a year you’ll be writing home to tell us about all of the wonderful things you’ve seen and done.”
    Gwen forced a smile. “You’re right, of course. I suppose my nerves are getting the best of me.” She took the sponge from Lynet. “I will finish here. Please lay out the purple silk surcoat and the silver samite kirtle.”
    Lynet stood and smiled. “Aye, m’lady, a fine choice. Perhaps the moonstone girdle as