“Your Highness, dearest,” Madame De Vries cries as soon as we step into her studio. She swoops in and presses kisses to both of my cheeks. “You’ve come just in time.”

I’m once again struck by how different her appearance is to her demeanor. She’s wearing another choking high-neck dress, the buttons at the collar so tight they make me want to loosen my own dress. It’s covered in a dark lace that trails behind her in a train. She reminds me so much of the second grade teacher who made me cry once, but she acts like we’ve known each other for years.

“Is something the matter?” I ask.

Madame De Vries eyes the people working around the room, offers her arm to me, and leads Helena and I to a secluded dressing room.

“Now, I don’t mean to alarm you, Your Majesty, but I’ve received word that Lady Nisa of Dar will be attending the funeral.”

I don’t know what to say, or what the appropriate reaction should be, but beside me, Helena nearly jumps out of her skin.

“Where have you heard such a terrible thing?” Helena asks.

Madame De Vries leans in close.

“One of my seamstresses-in-training is friends with a maidservant whose cousin works for the Darian throne. She said that they’ve begun preparations for travel.”

“But how did they get word? We haven’t yet made the announcement outside of the palace. Even the common people don’t know.”

“You know how the maid-folk like to talk,” Madame De Vries says with a shrug. “Word must have gotten out with one of them. The other nobility know to move with discretion.”

The thought opens up other possibilities. Griffin said they were going to question the guards and the anniversary guests, but how many of the servants are in leagues with Nico?

“Will Lady Nisa’s daughter be attending as well?” Helena asks.

Madame De Vries huddles closer and pitches her voice low. “There hasn’t been word of it yet, but I wouldn’t put it past her. You’re telling me you wouldn’t want to right a wrong like that? And at his funeral, no less?”

The color drains from Helena’s face. Her normally rosy cheeks go pale with horror and she puts a hand to the wall to steady herself.

“Oh, Dracon above,” she whispers.

The whole conversation goes completely over my head, but I have no idea how to ask without giving myself away. I’ve already said so many stupid things this week, and making a blunder that catastrophic around Madame De Vries seems like a horrible idea. She’s as generous with her words as she is with her lace, after all.

***

“Your Highness,” Helena begins. We’re walking side-by-side down the hall back to my rooms. She won’t meet my eye, looking instead at her hands, which she’s wringing together. “About what Madam De Vries said.”

“About Lady Nisa?”

Helena whips her head around, checking for listeners. The halls are empty; the only things we pass are paintings of long-dead Tarasques. Still, she whispers when she speaks.

“You might not know the full story surrounding Lady Nisa and her daughter.”

“Who are they?” I ask.

Helena opens and closes her mouth, searching for the right words.

“Lady Nisa’s daughter,” she whispers, so softly that I have to lean in to hear her. “She was the woman His Majesty considered taking as his queen before the two of you were engaged.”

My stomach drops, but only because of the thought that had Evren married Lady Nisa’s daughter instead of Messalina, I might not be here right now.

“I see,” I say, trying not to let my emotions bleed into my words.

Helena notices anyway.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty. It was out of turn for me to speak. I simply thought that you might wish to know.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I say, but Helena only looks more worried.

“Helena,” I say, taking her hand. Her eyes, wide as saucers, finally meet my own. “It’s better that I know who she is. I would only look stupid if I didn’t.”

Helena immediately deflates. “Yes, Your Majesty. The last thing I would want is for you to look a fool.”

But still, something bothers me. “What did Madame De Vries mean when she said ‘righting a wrong’?”

I didn’t think it was possible, but Helena turns even paler. So much so that I grab her arm in case she passes out.

“It’s unsavory for me to say this, but Lady Nisa and her daughter weren’t exactly pleased with who the Emperor chose to take as his Queen,” she says. “It resulted in a lot of turmoil for quite a while.”

“That makes sense,” I say. “I’m sure they’d much rather have Lady Nisa’s daughter be queen.”

Helena gives a weak nod and squeezes my hand.

***

That night, I send Helena and Leela back to their own rooms and draw myself a bath. The water is so hot it’s nearly scalding, but it’s a relief when I sink in.

Staring at my hands, at the long slender fingers and perfectly manicured nails, at the gold rings and precious stones glinting on my knuckles, I have to wonder what it is I’m doing here. If Evren had married a different woman, maybe I wouldn’t be here at all. But I wouldn’t be at home either.

I’d be crumpled on the side of the road, fading away to the cacophony of the city.

A crushing loneliness settles over me, weighing on my shoulders and pushing me further into the water. At home, I was just Annie. Annie, who did everything according to plan and was content enough. Annie, who never pushed the envelope, but who in turn got to live a quiet life. Maybe I wasn’t exactly happy, but now, I don’t know what I am.

I have no idea who Messalina is, who she’s supposed to be. Messalina, who wanted her husband dead, who got the head of her royal guard to do her dirty work so she could keep her hands clean.

Whenever things got this overwhelming, Molly was always there with a drink, or a latte. My mother was only a phone call away. Here, I have no one. No friends, no one who loves me.

I hug my knees and don’t get out of the bath until the water goes cold.