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would bother as a result of the spells, but didn’t voice this thought. I wished these servants would leave me so I could cast a song of my own, perhaps discover what the Prince was like. Knowing I couldn’t risk it, not with all the other magic I had already used, I remained silent as Lucia held up dress after extravagant dress, merely nodding if I wanted to try it on or dismissing it with a shake of my head.
    I finally selected a dark blue dress made of thick, yet somehow flowing fabric. It stuck to my chest in what Greta called, “all the right places,” and flared outward around my waist and hips. For this, I was grateful. I’d given no thought to my figure for some time, and while I was not corpulent, I certainly didn’t fall in the desirable category.
    What was Olive thinking? A squeeze of the old fear returned. Where did the losers go after they were dismissed? Surely the application would’ve outlined what would happen to the girls the Prince didn’t choose. Thoughts of servitude mingled with the familiar fears of death at the hands of a tyrant.
    For a brief moment, I considered trying to win the role of the Prince’s bride. I wouldn’t need to stay up late at night embroidering. I could send bags of money to Olive in Iskadar, where she could tend to Grandmother’s garden, and grow fields of roses, and arrange beautiful bouquets.
    As quickly as the fantasy had come, it vanished. Surely I wouldn’t win this contest, if only because I couldn’t allow anyone to use me or my magic for their own purposes.
    If I won, Olive would be—
    “Echo.” Lucia brought me out of the useless spiral of my mind with her soft voice. She supplied a pair of strappy shoes with a small, pointed heel and instructed me to circle the room. I felt wobbly, certain the ground would simply vanish beneath me, but I managed to make the circuit.
    She took the shoes and disappeared into the closet. When she returned, she bore a pair of silver sandals with jewel-encrusted straps. The heel gradually wedged upward. Again, she asked me to walk around the room.
    This heel gave me little trouble, and I felt more secure walking in the sandals. Lucia smiled shyly at me and ducked through the doorway, leaving me alone. I thought about the suite with its magnificent carved door and delicious, healing water. I wondered who had lived in these rooms before me. Did the Prince have a bride-selecting ceremony in every country he conquered? Did he have wives all over the world?
    I could discover this room’s secrets with a few notes. I dared not perform the spell-song, not in my current situation. I hoped a time would come where I could release my voice, uncover the secrets of this palace, and find my freedom.
    But that time was not right now, with my stomach growling and a slight ache behind my temples still throbbing from my previous magic usage. As if bidden by my appetite, Helena, Greta, and Lucia entered the room.
    “Your escorts will be here in minutes to take you to your dinner with His Majesty.” Helena said.
    Suddenly, I didn’t feel so hungry after all.

Six
    Matu arrived with the same soldier I’d seen throughout the city. Helena shooed me into a different hallway, and out a different door, saying, “Take care of her, Castillo.”
    I shot a glance at the guard named Castillo, trying to learn something about him just by looking. The same easiness I’d experienced on the street and in the tunnel comforted me now, but I didn’t welcome it. I’d have to be extra vigilant to figure out what his role was, and why he influenced me so easily.
    “Good evening,” Castillo said, bowing slightly at the waist.
    I nodded, staring into the bright light of the gas lamps lining the hall. Matu and Castillo stared openly, their eyes skating from my ridiculous shoes to the top of my head. My skin burned like fire, and just when I thought I couldn’t take them looking at me anymore, they both turned and started down the hall.
    I followed in their wake,