But that was only secondary, she would give her last breath to see Levi safe. And she couldn’t waste another moment, the only thing that mattered was getting to Levi, seeing him, protecting him.
“No. We’ll both go, the two of us.” Some of that waspish steel that tinged her voice when she spoke to Brandth was in evidence, clearly surprising Alia.
“I was thinking of disguising myself as a sword for sale, and entering the competitions.”
“You’d boil alive in a cloak, and as soon as you shed it, everyone would guess you’re a woman.”
“Why is everyone suddenly questioning my ability to pass as a man?”
“Birthing hips.” Perri supplied succinctly, enjoying for a split second her sister rearing back in genuine surprise, before an irked expression settled in permanently. “And I’ll be going with you. Don’t even think about trying to leave without me, as I’ll just follow you.”
“Perri.”
“I need to see my son, Alia. I’m going, nothing you can say will stop me.”
“Fine, but we can’t just waltz into the Palace and track Regal and Levi down. We have no standing there. No sponsors. We might be Baron Gloomenthrall’s daughters, but we’re little better than merchants or commoners, and they don’t allow commoners access to the Palace.”
“You can be sure Regal will have finagled invitations to only the most exclusive venues and parties.”
Alia snapped her fingers as an idea occurred to her. “What about nuns? No one looks twice at nuns.”
“They don’t get invited to parties.” Perri pointed out. “What about prostitutes? A couple of low cut dresses and I’ll wear a mask.”
“I expect we’d receive a multitude of invitations but probably not to functions where Regal intends to shop for an innocent, suitable bride.”
“We would have made very credible prostitutes.” Perri grumbled under her breath, mind racing frantically, trying desperately to come up with a solution to their dilemma.
“Nuns and prostitutes… there has to be something in between those two options that will allow us unfettered access to the Palace, and all the parties the Royals and their guests will attend.”
“We could disguise ourselves as servants.”
Alia shook her head. “We’d be at the housekeeper’s mercy, more than likely assigned to empty chamber pots than serve food at exclusive parties.”
“Heavens. There has to be a solution.” Perri shot Brandth a glare as he snorted, sighed, and blissfully slept on. There was a man who could walk the halls of the Golden Palace at will, attend any party he liked… any party he liked. “The bridal candidates for the Prince!”
“What about them?” Alia’s blue gaze filled with confusion.
“The bridal candidates are invited to stay at the Palace, receiving automatic invites to all the best parties.”
“I suppose. You want us to tag along with one of our sisters, acting as lady’s maids?”
“No, Regal will require close scrutiny, only you and I are aware of what he is capable of, and would recognise his lies, his tells.”
Confusion suddenly shifted to outright horror, Alia rearing away from her sister, dropping her hands. “You want me to act as a bridal candidate in a bid to attain the hand of the Prince of the Vallas Realm?”
“Yes.” Perri snagged one of Alia’s hands back, holding it tight. “It’s the perfect solution.”
“Please. No one will believe I’m a suitable choice for the Prince. They’ll finger me an imposter the moment I arrive.”
“Not if you actually are the approved candidate from Gloomenthrall.”
“And how would I go about getting that approval? I’ve heard about the list of requirements; demure, pleasant, pretty, artistic. I wouldn’t last five minutes trying to fool anyone that I was any of those things.”
“But that’s the beauty of this, you won’t have to. Lord De’Luca has the final say. All we need do is convince him that you should be the one chosen.”
“And how would I go about convincing him of that?”
“You don’t. I’ll do the convincing.”
