There was something sacred about being clean.
I sat at the vanity, tugging a comb through my dripping hair. I let the rhythm calm the nerves still buzzing under my skin. Whoever stocked this room did it with military precision. Combs, pins, even fragrant oils that smelled like the palace of the Gods. The Lycan King had seen to my needs. At least, the practical ones.
Even as far as clothing, though I didn't want to think about the linen dresses lined up in the wardrobe. Every single one looked like it had been tailored to fit my frame exactly. Either someone had measured me in my sleep, or my mother had a hand in this before everything fell apart.
Which meant she would've known what was coming, and didn't warn me. She let me suffer. For the sake of this plan. Part of me wasn't sure I'd ever be able to forgive. If I ever got to see her again.
I shoved that thought away and pulled the plainest dress from the row. Nothing fancy. Nothing memorable. Just the way I liked it.
The slippers, each matching the dresses within the wardrobe, were too soft. They were the kind of shoes meant for quiet halls and polished stone. Not anything practical, the soles too thin to be serviceable outside this place.
I slid them on anyway. If I had to play this game, I might as well look the part.
A knock startled me from my thoughts.
Before I could answer, the door swung open and a girl about my age breezed in.
"Great Goddess, thank the stars you're dressed! How awkward would that have been?" She grinned at me, her chocolate eyes crinkling at the corners. There was something about her that reminded me of Indra. A deep-seated joy that just radiated out of her dusky skin.
She crossed the space between us, thrusting her hand out in front of her. "I'm Raelyn." Her eyes danced as she took in my expression. "I'm a Lycan clan Royal. Tomas' sister."
Oh.
I looked from her hand, back to her face. It wasn't often that royalty felt the need to interact with drudges. And here I already had two meetings under my belt. I took her hand, slow and unsure. "Cassidy No-Clan. I'm the Lycan King's…"
I trailed off. Property? Prisoner? I couldn't come up with a proper word. I wasn't an assassin. Not yet.
"Guest, Cassidy No-clan. You're a guest here." Her voice was firm as she gave my hand a confident shake. "And don't worry. We don't get many guests from the Lower Kingdom. Lycans make the predator shifters nervous."
Her grin was quick and wide, too many teeth on display to be comforting. "Can't say we don't enjoy the effect."
I let go of her hand, steeling myself against the urge to flinch back. I wasn't used to this much attention. The only interactions with anyone I'd had above a servant's station was with my siblings, so I was cautious. "To what do I owe the visit, Your Highness?"
The words felt stiff in my mouth. I moved to curtsey, my brain finally catching up to the fact I was standing in front of Lenerum Royalty. Raelyn snatched at my arm, her face pleading.
"Please don't. If I see one more person drop into a bow, I'll scream. You're to be my handmaiden. I can't have you bowing every time you're around me, or that's all you'd ever be doing."
I blinked at her. "Handmaiden?"
"Didn't he tell you?" She huffed and shut the door behind her. "Men. Absolutely useless. You need an official position if you're going to be here. And that position happens to come at a time when I need a handmaiden, as I'm of age."
"You know?"
"That you're a fox and my brother plans to turn you into an assassin? Obviously." She tossed her hair behind her shoulder with a practiced hand. "He tells me everything."
"That's...unusual." I only had Serrat to base my experience on, but women weren't treated with respect in shifter clans. At least not in the case of matters of state.
"No, it's smart. I'm next in line until Tomas produces an heir. Eventually I'll be married off to whoever benefits the throne. I need to know what's going on if I'm going to serve Lenerum's interests. Lycans don't treat women like pretty things to look at. We're weapons. Sharpened for purpose."
She looped her arm through mine like we were old friends. Her skin was warm, her energy magnetic.
"You'll find life here is a lot different from the village that tried to kill you."
I didn't respond to the subtle jab. Mostly because I couldn't. Not while the marks on my skin and the scars on my heart were fresh and new.
"So." I pushed on, moving away from that sensitive topic. "I'm going to be a handmaiden. And an assassin."
"Exactly." Raelyn gave my arm a gentle tug. "Being at my side gives you access to the Lenerum Court. And the Court is crawling with liars in fur coats. You'll be rubbing elbows with the elite, gathering secrets, making connections."
I dug in my heels a little. "Is this happening now? I know the King wanted me at dinner." I had hoped it might just be me there. And him, even if he was overwhelming.
Raelyn stopped mid-step and turned to look me up and down. I know what she saw. Lanky, too thin, I could probably use a good meal. "You're not hungry?"
"Not particularly." My stomach chose that moment to betray me. Loudly.
Her eyebrow lifted. "Care to revise your answer?"
"I'm not trying to get out of my duty, it's just…it's your brother."
"Ah. Yes. Tomas." She gave me a sympathetic glance. "He's overbearing, broody on the best of occasions. He walks around like he's doing the country a favor just by breathing. Trust me, I know."
She sighed dramatically, then sobered. "This dinner is important. Our pack needs to see you, accept you. You can't hide here forever. It won't be the full Lycan Court, but you will have to be seen. You have to suck it up. I'm not going to lead a lamb to slaughter, Cassidy.."
I blew out a breath. "Fine. Let's go meet the wolves."
"That's the spirit." Raelyn looped her arm through mine again, practically dragging me toward the hall. "You'll be fine. Probably. The Knights might eat you alive, but honestly, there are worse fates. Some of them are quite pretty to look at."
I groaned.
She just laughed.