Page 23 of Their Wicked Cage

“This is quite a beautiful suite,” I say, running my hand along the gilded vanity.

“Of course it is,” Arkyn says. “It was designed for⁠—”

“Honored guests,” Riven cuts in smoothly. “Like yourself.”

I don’t miss the sharp look Riven tosses Arkyn’s way or the latter’s crooked smile.

Interesting.

The tan-skinned female with indigo curls and a scattering of golden freckles dotting her cheeks clears her throat and bows to Riven. “Thank you for calling upon me, Your Majesty.”

“Rise, Lettie. I’d like you to meet…” He trails off, seemingly unsure how to introduce me.

“Gwyn,” I say brightly. “An honored guest of the king’s.”

Arkyn snorts, and Riven jabs him with an elbow.

She curtsies. “It’s a privilege to serve you, milady.”

“Just Gwyn is fine,” I insist.

“On that note,” Riven says, “we’ll leave Lettie to help you get settled.” He holds my gaze. “Be down for breakfast at dawn.”

Neither he nor Arkyn waits for me to acknowledge his command before sauntering out of the suite.

“Well, milady—er, Gwyn,” Lettie says, offering me a kind smile. “I’ll be your handmaiden during your time at the palace. Before I run you a bath, I’ll get your measurements so I can go into town to procure some new garments for you to wear at court.”

I stare at her blankly, cheeks warming. “What?”

A little v furrows between her brows. “To which part?”

“All of it.”

“You’re in need of a new wardrobe, are you not?”

“Y-yes,” I stammer. “But⁠—”

The warmth from my cheeks spreads down my throat. Is Riven trying to make a fool of me? He knows I cannot pay her for her services or a new wardrobe, and yet he’s assigned her to me, sent his sword catcher to fetch her and have her waiting in this magnificent suite for my arrival.

My embarrassment and annoyance fight for dominance.

So much for him promising there wouldn’t be a power imbalance between us.

Lettie is a painful reminder that I am once again starting over, a blank slate with nothing to forge a life in this kingdom.

Or maybe I do have something.

I slide my satchel off my shoulder and set it on the floor. Crouching, I rifle through it and pull out my crystal of tourmaline. Witch artifacts might be valuable enough to cover the costs of a new wardrobe and even her services as my handmaiden.

I rise and extend the crystal to her on my palm. “Will this be enough to cover your services and my clothes?”

“Milady,” she says softly, closing my fingers over the stone and patting them. “King Riven has already procured my services, and he’s added you as a registered spender to his tab at Thistle and Thread, among other shops. You’ve also been granted a hefty salary for your role as the king’s advisor.”

“What?” I repeat, this time more breathless than the last.

“Enjoy it, Gwyn.” A playful little grin curls on her lips. “You’re now one of the wealthiest females in the kingdom.”

Chapter 8