Page 95 of The Witch Queen

She crosses her arms. “I’d like to see how wellyou’dlook after three hours of minding the kitchen fires and turning spits. How much do these people eat?”

I groan. Weston ordered practically an entire forest’s worth of venison and boar for the night’s festivities.

“Come on,” I say, dragging her with me. “We’ll have to hurry.”

Nettle growls as we cross through the chambers.

“Hello to you, too,” Jacquetta grumbles.

I open another door. The bathing chamber, which stills smells of the various oils and perfumes I poured into my own bath earlier. A memory of when I’d found Jacquetta bathing in Marion’s old chambers resurfaces and I fight the blush that rises on my cheeks.

“Go on,” I prod. “And be quick about it.”

She pushes past me and shuts herself inside. After a few moments, I hear the sound of splashing water. I’m suddenly painfully aware that there’s nothing but a wall between us and try to distract myself with tidying the chamber. It doesn’t do any good. Nettle watches me with what I take to be a smirk.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?”

She swishes her tail in answer.

What seems an eternity later, Jacquetta reemerges. Her hair is loose and wet, falling in damp curls that soften the angles of her face. Her dressing gown—mydressing gown—is closed, but I can see the hint of her chest through the collar. The skin there shines with whatever lotion or oil she used in the bath. I clear my throat and give myself a shake, earning another dubious trill from Nettle.

“Here.” I gesture to the undergarments I laid out. “Put those on first.”

“Corsets again.” Jacquetta wrinkles her nose. “Just kill me. It would be kinder.”

“We’ll revisit that option later,” I promise.

She motions impatiently for me to turn around.

“So, how am I supposed to bring up the duchess in conversation tonight?” Jacquetta asks. Fabric rustles as she begins to dress. “Excuse me, Lord Idiot, do you happen to know of a scandal involving the king’s sister?”

“You wheedled your way into the palace once before,” I remind her.“I’m sure you can handle it. Besides, they’ll be drunk and eager to talk. Just keep your mask on.”

“And if I should find myself in theduchess’scompany?” she asks.

“With any luck, she won’t be joining us tonight.”

“Why not? Did you poison her?”

“No,” I retort, annoyed.

Though what I did do was arguably worse. Callen reported that Margaret could be heard shouting and throwing things this morning. A smile twitches at the corners of my lips. Maybe the incident with the falcon wasn’t enough to touch the duchess’s pride, butthisseems to have done the trick.

“Are you ready yet?” I ask.

Jacquetta grunts in answer and I turn around to assist her with the corset. It reminds me of the time I’d needed to undress her after the Nevenwolf’s attack. Just like then, I can’t help but notice the ledges of her shoulder blades above the neckline of her shift. The elegant line of her spine and the fine hairs at the nape of her neck. Places I have touched. Craved.

Careful,that voice warns.

“Not too tight,” Jacquetta instructs as I start on the laces.

“I assumed you’d be accustomed to court dress,” I remark. “What with all the time you’ve spent in the Rycinthian palace.”

She snorts. “We weren’t exactly invited to their parties.”

“Oh no?” I ask. “Don’t tell me you had difficulty making friends.”

I can feel her gaze narrow.