“What are you?” I murmured.
The dagger’s awareness pulsed beneath my skin. But it never answeredthatquestion, no matter how many times I asked.
With a wry laugh at myself, I set to work. Magic trickled from my fingertips, softening my flesh and turning it pliable. With careful strokes, I smoothed the hollows beneath my eyes, then sharpened the arch of my brows. I left my nose alone, but honed my cheekbones and chin. My skin warmed and reshaped, the magic seeping in like rainwater permeating soil.
When I finished, I looked different. Not so much that the prince would notice—he’d only assume I’d cleaned myself up, hopefully—but I’d accomplished what I wanted.
I looked...fiercer. Hawklike. Not beautiful, but striking enough to stand out in a crowd, and I wanted people to startle when they saw me. To sneak glances when I wasn’t looking, to guess at whether the contours of my face divulged those of my soul. I wanted them to wonder whether I only looked like the sort of woman who’d slice them apart if crossed, or if I actuallywas.
I smiled, pleased to find an edge of menace there. Briefly, I tried to recall the face I’d been born with, but I hadn’t glimpsed it in so long that my mind held only the vaguest impression of bland features, dishwater eyes, and a weak chin.
I didn’t regret having shed that skin. Having forgotten.
Next, I smoothed a hand over my lank hair, infusing the locks with gloss and adding another inch of length. This was my one concession to vanity—this raven mass, so thick and blackand slippery it shone even at night and resisted any efforts to constrain it in a braid.
That done, I went to work narrowing my waist. The result looked borderline absurd and squished my organs into places they didn’t belong, but I would reverse this particular change the moment I wriggled free of Amryssa’s dress tonight.
I rose to try on the gown, but a soft knock interrupted. Its distinct pattern shot a tiny smile across my lips.Merron.
I veered to the door and opened it. Our head steward waited in the hall, as solid and compact as if hewn from brown oak. Scruff clung to Merron’s cheeks and last night’s storm had carved new lines around his eyes, but somehow, he only looked handsomer for it.
He ran a hand through his dark hair. “Hi.”
“Hi,” I said, startled by the softness in that word. Somehow, Merron always relaxed my defenses.
“Sorry to show up unannounced. I just needed to know you were all right.” His voice was husky, the usual byproduct of our nightmarish ordeals.
Not that I would ever point it out. Merron had never told me which truth the storms excised from his soul, honed to an edge, and used to lacerate his mind. But he always screamed sooner than the rest of us, so it had to be particularly bad.
“I’m fine,” I said. “Just tired.”
His gaze narrowed, sweeping my face. “Did you...change something?”
I glanced toward the vanity. “Yeah. A little of this, a little of that. Nothing I won’t put back eventually.”
“Oh. Well. It looks good on you.”
My lips flirted with a smile. He always said that, no matter what I did. I could probably remold myself as a hag and Merron would react by singing her praises. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” he said. “Could I...come in, maybe?”
I paused, but I hadn’t forgotten this morning’s resolution. “Sure. Why not?”
Astonishment flitted across his features—unsurprising, given that I only occasionally said yes. Mostly I said no. But I was getting married tonight, and the urge to mark that transformation rushed through my veins. I wanted Merron to brand me. Not as his, but as...my own. As something uncaged that would now submit of its own accord.
I closed the door behind him and leaned against the wood.
He approached the bed and studied Amryssa’s gown. “This is quite the dress. What’s it doing in here?”
“It just needs some alterations.” I crossed the room and ran my fingers up his spine to distract from the lie.
Merron gathered a breath, turning with it still trapped in his chest. He stared down, his pupils flowering to wide black pools.
“Harlowe,” he rasped.
A smoky sound escaped me. “Merron.”
“It’s been so long.”
