‘Don’t worry. We’ve got all the time in the world,’ I tell him.

He shifts back, his face alight with joy as he runs a finger along my jawline. ‘We do,’ he agrees. ‘We really do.’

There’s another impatient knock, immediately followed by the same deep, gruff voice. ‘Lady Rose, we really do need to get you ready.’

‘Yes, yes, that’s fine,’ I call back. ‘Come in.’ I kiss Kyor’s lips lightly. ‘I’ll see you at the ball.’

‘I’ll be saving every dance for you, Lady Rose the Gifted,’ Kyor promises, pride in every word.

He kisses me once more before moving to the doorway and opening it. A stream of maids, dressed identically in pale yellow frocks and white hats, scurry in. Kyor frowns slightly, his gaze hovering over them.

A laugh escapes my lips. After everything I’ve just survived, he’s worried about leaving me alone with half a dozen maids?

‘I’ll be fine,’ I tell him. ‘You go and get ready. I’ll see you at the ball.’

He nods quickly, winks at me with a cheeky smile, and disappears outside.

Unlike me, who has absolutely no idea what I’m doing, the maids quickly get to work. One heads straight into the bathroom, another for the wardrobe, while one starts stripping my bloodstained clothes from me.

‘Congratulations, my lady,’ she says as she works, her eyes trained downwards so that all I can see is the blanket of fabric covering her hair. ‘They’re pleased on the streets. One of us. That is the chant, is it not?’

My heart surges as I think of all the people my victory has brought hope to. The gifting may have been about getting Kay’s and my powers and station back, but maybe I’ve achieved far more than that.

‘We will let you bathe,’ she says. ‘The dresses are on your bed for you to choose from. When you have selected your gown, I will come and help you dress and do your hair.’

‘Thank you,’ I tell her with a grateful smile.

The bath is everything I need it to be – warm, cleansing, and scented enough to remove the smell of blood from my skin. I wish I had asked Kyor to stay with me a little longer so he could join me, but there will be time for that later. Now that I’m not a slum rat anymore.

My eyes drift closed to thoughts of Kay. Will she know yet that I’ve won? Perhaps, if her stripped magic has returned to her as instantly as mine did. Yet her magic had not even settled before it was removed from her, so will she recognise the feeling of it?

Will the ball be the first time she learns of the identity of the gifted? I have no doubt she’s been worried sick all this time, but a smile of anticipation curls my lips as I imagine her ecstatic joy when I finally see her. Surely the tension brought on by Holden’s death will fall away? I imagine seeing Benny and Jonas, too. While there will be envy there – how can there not? – I know they will be happy for me.

The conflict between elation and worry continues to undulate within me as I drift into sleep in the embrace of the warm, comforting water. When a knock on the door startles me awake, I discover the bath is now stone cold, and I realise just how long I’ve slept. It’s hardly ideal.

‘My lady, I’m sorry, we can’t wait any longer. Guests will be arriving for the ball soon. You need to get dressed.’

I step out of the bath, towel around me, and head back into the main chamber, where three dresses have been placed on the bed. They’re far from the unique chicness of Llinos’s designs, but beautiful nonetheless, and I waste little time in picking the deep emerald ballgown with a plunging neckline.

‘That colour suits you perfectly,’ the young woman says. She’s the only maid present now, but there’s something vaguely familiar about her, though it could just be that she was one of the fussing maids from earlier.

‘Thank you. My mother always looked beautiful in green.’

‘Come, slip it on, then I’ll tighten it and fix your hair for you.’

I do as she suggests, stepping into the ballgown. The fabric is insanely soft, and as she pulls the ties tight around the waist, I can’t help but gaze at my reflection. No, it’s not like Llin’s creations at all, but there is something almost regal about it. Fit for a princess, I let myself think, before hastily pushing the thought aside.

My heart aches for Llin. I wish she was here, holding a dagger and taking it to my dress with a wicked gleam in her eye. Almost immediately my thoughts wander to how Caroline is coping and if she still blames me for her loss. I do.

When the dress is on, I struggle not to gawp at the finished look. I truly do look like a princess. I try not to imagine myself on Kyor’s arm, yet no matter what I do, the image refuses to go away. Korvane hates my family, yes, but only because he believes in my mother’s supposed misdeeds. Now that my powers and status have been restored, there’s nothing to stop Kyor from sharing the truth with his father. Once he does that, the final barrier to our future will fall away.

Though even the limits of my imagination can’t envision cosy dinners with Korvane. The man who ruined us all. Whose actions led to my parents’ deaths … but maybe I just need time, too. Maybe there is more to him than the cruel man I’ve seen. I hope so, for Kyor’s sake.

‘Come, sit down.’ The maid leads me over to the dressing table where she starts to brush my hair the moment I’ve taken a seat. ‘You love the prince very much, don’t you, my lady?’

I blink. That’s not the small talk I was expecting. My eyes tilt upwards, catching hers in the reflection. Was I thinking my thoughts out loud? Or were they simply written all over my face?

She smiles gently. ‘I was here earlier,’ she explains. ‘When the prince was with you. And he looked at you with such adoration. I imagine it must feel incredible to have someone look at you like that.’ She sounds wistful and is giving me such a knowing smile that I feel vaguely uncomfortable. Korvane no doubt has spies everywhere, and the familiarity with which she’s speaking to me is not normal for any maid. Is she trying to entrap me into saying something damaging?

‘The prince is a good man,’ I murmur, evading the question, and she combs a thin wax into my hair to assist with the styling.

‘I have an idea for a style,’ she says, twisting a strand of damp hair around her finger. ‘A style I know the prince will love.’

She takes several pieces from the front, curling them into deep spirals. It’s not a look I’d normally go for with my frizzy hair, but I have to admit, it suits me more than I expected. We sit in silence as she works, twisting and twirling my hair expertly.

‘You are lucky to have someone like him you can trust so well,’ she says again after a long moment.

This time my jaw tightens. I’m not saying that me defeating fifty other trained warriors to win the Retterheld should be what this woman wishes to discuss, but she is clearly more interested in Kyor than my achievements, and that’s ringing all my alarm bells.

‘As I said, he is a good man,’ I repeat, hoping my curt tone will be enough to dissuade her from her prying.

‘Yes. And so misunderstood, too,’ she continues nonetheless. ‘But I suspect you understand him. Don’t you, my lady?’

I open my mouth, not sure how to respond, when something flutters down from the woman’s hand. A piece of paper lands by my foot.

‘Oh, sorry, my lady,’ she says, though her tone is guileless and says she is anything but. The paper is far easier for me to pick up as I’m sitting, so I reach for it. As I take hold of it, the corner starts to unfold and the edges of a charcoal image become visible.

My pulse quickens. What is this? Has she got hold of one of the images Kyor drew of me? Is this a blackmail attempt?

The maid stands still behind me.

‘See for yourself, my lady,’ she commands, tone unlike any maid I’ve ever met.

Unable to do otherwise, I obey.