More chills zapped the column of her spine. And then Aerity giggled. Perhaps it was the nervous tension finally cracking, she didn’t know, but the giggle turned to pure laughter, and she bent at the waist, cackling.
“Oh, Princess!” Caitrin scolded. The girl tried to cover her smile, but she broke into a reluctant giggle too. “Shame on you. There’s dye on your neck now. Be still.”
Aerity sat up again, gasping for air and covering her mouth as Caitrin dabbed her neck and applied the last bit of dye.
“Let it sit as long as you can stand it, and then I’ll bring in a basin to rinse it.”
A barely discernible tap came from the door, and it opened a sliver. Aerity’s heart leaped into her throat until she spiedthe shock of red curls. Seeing her cousin sent a bout of guilt through her, thinking of the conversation she’d just been having. She hoped Wyneth never found out about Lord Alvi and Caitrin.
“Come in,” Aerity hissed. “Hurry!”
Wyneth slipped in and closed the heavy door behind her, leaning against it. “Look at you. You’re really doing it!”
Aerity grinned. “Did you deliver my message to Miss Rathbrook?”
“Of course,” Wyneth said. “And Harrison, too. Though he says you will owe him. He expects to be made high captain with no further effort from himself. He had to rearrange the schedule to put himself on night watch.”
Aerity was elated that the people she cared about were willing to help her, even under the circumstances. She only felt bad about not telling Vixie, but Aerity needed to focus on herself.
They chatted quietly about nothing in particular, both nervous talkers, until Caitrin carried in a basin and began filling it with water warmed in the chamber’s fireplace.
When her hair had been rinsed, Aerity stared down at the dark brown water.
“Deep seas almighty, Aer.” Wyneth stared at her in wonder.
Caitrin began drying her hair with a cloth, then twisting strands from the sides and pinning them in the back, as was common among village girls.
“I could only get my hands on temporary dye, Highness. It should stay up to a few weeks if you don’t wash it vigorously or often. Water and brushing will fade it. I’ve put the last of the jar in your bag.” Aerity nodded, though she was not looking forward to having unwashed hair for any length of time.
The princess stepped into a drab, tan dress. and Caitrin buttoned it, tying a sash around her waist. The fabric felt thinner and itchier than she was used to. Next Caitrin pulled out a wad of cotton and a small jar of shimmering dirt . . . or so it looked to be.
“We need to cover some of your freckles,” Caitrin explained. She ran the cotton over Aerity’s face and neck, focusing on her cheeks and nose. When she finished, Aerity made her way to the mirror.
Wyneth stood over her shoulder, eyes widened, as they both stared at the unrecognizable maiden in the looking glass. The only thing that looked the same were her hazel eyes, but even they looked different with her changed appearance, lighter against her dark hair and darkened cheeks.
“Well done, Cait,” Aerity breathed.
“Oh, Princess. Do be safe. The kingdom would be lost without you.”
Aerity turned and pulled her maid into an embrace. Caitrin hesitated before hugging her back. The maid then handed the princess a pack and a worn cloak.
“I’ve filled it with extra clothes, extra dye, and food.”
Aerity donned the cloak. When she looked at Wyneth, her cousin’s eyes were wet, but she stood with her shoulders back, poised. “Paxton had better appreciate this or he’s a fool.” She reached for Aerity’s hand and they pulled each other close.
“I will leave letters for my parents and sister.” Aerity pulled away, startling at the sight of dark strands across her shoulder before remembering they were hers. “Don’t let Vixie hate me too much.”
Wyneth sighed. “I make no promises about that one.”
The three of them jumped at a tap, tap sound. The door. Caitrin rushed forward and opened it a crack, then farther to reveal Miss Rathbrook, the royal Lashed healer. The older woman eyed Aerity with admiration.
“Your guard is resting, Your Highness, but not for long. His mind is sharp and his instinct to protect you will not let him sleep heavily.”
“Thank you so much,” Aerity said, grasping her frail hand. “How did you do it? You won’t be in trouble, will you?”
“My guard and I were out for a stroll and the two men began to talk. I touched a soft finger to his neck from the side and put him into a sleep. My guard lowered him to the ground. He’ll think he’s fainted. My guard and I will be there when he awakens, to make him believe it was a momentary blackout. You must go.”
“Aye, thank you.” Aerity took one last look around her room, at her cousin and maid, at the letters lying on her window seat. Then with a final nod she straightened. “Let’s go.”
