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filtered in from the open window, filling the room with a flowery aroma. She turned her head to the left and right, admiring Milly’s handiwork. To her surprise, with the fancy dress and hair, she almost looked like a full royal.
    But even with her sophisticated appearance, her stomach churned at the thought of seeing King Duncan. Her temper flared, flooding hot blood to her cheeks. He must’ve enjoyed humoring the poor mixed blood girl until the nobles arrived home.
    In an attempt to calm her heart, she traced her finger over the two intertwined Criton heads protecting the red jewel in the center of her mother’s necklace. Her mother had told her the medallion held the key to her past and future. “Mama, I wish you were here,” she murmured.
    A soft knock at the door beckoned her. She stood, inspecting her gown with a critical eye. She liked the dark green velvet fabric on the bodice that tapered into lighter, varying shades of green in her multilayered skirt. When she walked, the fabric flowed around her; only the wide swaths of cloth prevented her legs from showing. Very daring.
    She straightened her shoulders and stood tall. Although she’d been made to feel foolish, she would not be made the fool. Since she only attended formal dinners on rare occasions, she’d make the most out of tonight. She forced a smile on the person staring back at her in the mirror and brought her Criton necklace to her lips for a quick kiss of courage before slipping out the door.
    Her bedroom was located on the top floor of the castle, a floor reserved for servants who held a place of honor in the household, meaning they performed the more important tasks. The lower levels were reserved for Father and Marissa, followed by the main floor. The courage she’d so gallantly summoned melted away when she rounded a bend in the staircase and almost crashed into Marissa.
    “Watch out!” Marissa snapped. “I don’t want you to wrinkle my new gown.”
    Marissa stood in front of her in a pink monstrosity consisting of puffy sleeves and large hoops. To her shock, however, the dress lacked the high collar Marissa preferred.
    As if reading her mind, Marissa’s eyes glittered. “In case he’d like to kiss my neck after dinner when we go for an unchaperoned walk.” She clasped her hands together and sighed. “Isn’t he the grandest man you’ve ever seen?”
    “You’ll make a fine couple,” Carina muttered.
    Marissa’s eyes narrowed to slits. “And you didn’t even know who he was.” Her hand flew to her chest. “Is that my dress? Oh, my goodness, you ruined it.” She opened her mouth to say something else, but paused. A sly smile creased her lips. “On second thought, maybe the dress suits you because it’s…different.”
    With a final scrutinizing look, Marissa spun and glided down the hall, her hoop skirt swishing back and forth. After a few steps, her voice echoed in the narrow passage. “Don’t be late, sweet half sister.”
    Carina trailed her hand down the front of her dress and watched the light strips of fabric sway on a gentle breeze. Marissa was right. The dress was too different. Tempted, she almost raced back upstairs to change into something else until she thought of Milly. Although she wouldn’t feel as vulnerable in an old dress, Milly had worked so hard. She just didn’t have the heart to offend her. So, with reluctant steps, she trudged down the corridor.

5 – TALK of KINGS
    Marek strolled into the hosting chamber followed by Sampson. A roaring fire blazed in the stone hearth, but the heat didn’t reach his troubled heart. He hated formal occasions. Except for Carina, he would’ve preferred standing on a biting fire rifa hill to avoid spending an evening with the McKays. Regin and Marissa were just as he expected—all pomp and bluster. But as much as he disliked their arrogance, he did admire Regin’s thriving Criton market. With so many unbonded Critons converging on McKay land, the obvious conclusion