Even with our own room, privacy was scarce. Here, Lorcan was greeted as a revered folk hero, with demands upon his time that took him away from my side. I had asked him to build up a new guard, which meant finding suitable recruits. I couldn’t fault him for taking it seriously.
I donned my green checked dress from Tenáho over a linen shift. I know, from some reactions we’ve encountered, that my appearance has come as a shock to people who were familiar with seeing me before the war. Not just Bennet.
Here in Cannavale, I heard whispers that I wasn’t really the princess, that I was an impostor. I already felt like a fraud. I know I’ll never again look like I did in that green dress I wore in Paris. Lorcan isn’t blind; he can see the difference. Feel it, too, when we are alone.
The fawning over my fiancé therefore stung, on several levels, though I told myself I was being petty. I hated having to think about how many of the women in the crowd had been with him—when I haven’t. It’s the same source of my frustration when everyone used to tell me hereally is something special.
He belonged among these people in a way I could only pretend to. It wasn’t like when we were in Tenáho, where I felt as though he was welcoming me into his life. Cannavale was a preview of our future.
Worse, I felt as though he’s placed me on a pedestal, like I’m one of the statutes of my supposed ancestor. All I ever wanted was to be treated as a normal person. Doesn’t he know that, by now?
Are you imagining there’s any daylight between who you are and what you are?he asked me, back in his kitchen.
No, there isn’t—and that’s the problem. It always has been. I still feel isolated and alone. I’m still standing on Saskaya’s deck watching through the window.
He takes his role seriously. I’ll grant him that. While Lorcan was busy meeting with the newly-formed Cannavale Security Council—where I can provide little practical advice—Tovian escorted me to meet with Ifran’s niece, Reba, at her atelier. Before the war, she’d been apprenticed to one of the court’s tailors, and since renting this huge, sunny warehouse, she’d stockpiled a large quantity of fine fabrics at low cost. There’s little demand for extravagance now, but she was betting on a brighter future.
I admired her optimism and hustle, along with her workshop filled with rolls and bolts of linen, wool, ivory spidersilk and dyed velvet. Some of the velvet had been damaged during the war, the purple a few shades too light, due to exposure to the elements. She hadn’t decided what to do with all the fabric yet.
She showed me sketches of potential wedding gowns. The trick was to create one that would serve for both my coronation and wedding, as they were planned to be held on a single day.
“I suppose we’ll have to have clothes made for Lorcan, too,” I mused, not meaning for anyone to overhear.
“Only if you intend to see it through,” Tovian replied.
He is too astute.
“I do mean to,” I said briskly. “I was thinking out loud, that’s all. He could wear his royal guardsman uniform. It wouldn’t be unusual. My father did, for his wedding.”
“But he was coronated later.”
“How do you know that, Ansi?” I smiled, and my friend returned it.
“I told you. You couldn’t find us, but we always knew where to find you.”
I inclined my head. I’ve said something similar about Auralia on many occasions.
Reba took my measurements and promised to bring a rough version of the gown to the castle in a few weeks for fitting. Before we left, I agreed to send Lorcan in for a consultation, too.
We strode down the cobblestone street in companionable silence.
“Zosia.”
When I looked over, Tovian’s dark eyes were serious. “Yes?”
“If you still harbor doubts about him, wait.”
I inhaled sharply. “It isn’t him I doubt. It’s myself.”
I doubt that I will be enough to hold Lorcan’s interest. Which means, by default, that I still doubt Lorcan’s fidelity.
Worse, I doubt my sway over these people. I’m too young and overly serious by nature. I don’t spark the imagination like my knight does, and I worry that he would use his legendary status to undermine my authority. It’s a danger unique to Lorcan—Sorhab would have been viewed as an outsider. I might have had to fight my own husband for control of my country, but I’d have won. I’m not certain that would be the case with Lorcan, now that I’ve seen first-hand how universally adored he is.
“Is that why you only wanted one dress? In case the betrothal falls through?”
“There is my bankrupt Treasury to consider. It’s practical to combine the events, and there won’t be time to change clothes in between ceremonies. I sincerely doubt people would wish to travel twice, once for my coronation and again for a wedding. And then for Midwinter.”
I avoided his eye.
