Chapter 6: The Pearls

"You told me to sign it," I said.

We were back in the tower, and I had not sat down since the council.

"I told you to keep your options open," Conroy said.

"You told me to let them cut you out of my life with a pen."

"I told you to take the crown, Verena."

"And you'd go home to Skarn and what?"

"I would live."

He said it as if it were obvious, and then he looked away at the window.

I knew that look.

It was the one he wore when a thing was true and also not the whole truth.

I decided I would find out what the rest was, and I decided it would not be tonight.

"There is a feast," I said. "The king's Midwinter banquet in the great hall."

"We have not been invited."

"I'm not asking to be invited."

I opened Marigold's wardrobe and took out a dark green gown, the only one without pearls on it.

It was a little short in the hem, and I put it on anyway.

An hour later the doors of the great hall opened for the second time in two days, and I walked through them on my husband's arm.

The long tables were laid with silver and white candles.

Two hundred people looked up from their soup, and the music faltered.

My father sat on the dais with his goblet in his fist, not drinking.

Marigold sat beside him in her heir's circlet and a gown of cream silk so pale it was nearly white.

At her throat lay a triple rope of pearls the size of hazelnuts.

I stopped at the foot of the dais.

"Good evening, Majesty," I said. "Sister."

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