“Y-yes, My Queen. It is a great honor to be in your presence.”

“I am not the queen,” said Levana, tasting her own bitterness. “I am merely keeping watch over the throne until my niece is older.”

“Oh, yes, of course. I … I meant no disrespect. Your … Highness.”

The giggling had stopped. When Levana glanced toward the playhouse, she saw that the girls had pulled back the blankets and were watching with curious eyes and open mouths.

“Winter is being seen by Dr. Eliot today,” said Levana. “I’ve come to take her.”

The nanny stayed in her curtsy, uncertain if she was allowed to rise and look upon Levana or not. It was obvious from the stretched-thin silence that she wanted to ask why the queen would bother when it was within the nanny’s own duties to make sure the girls made their appointments, or why the doctor didn’t come see the princess here in the nursery. But she didn’t argue. Of course she didn’t.

“Winter, come along,” Levana called. The blanket fell again, hiding the princesses. “You have an appointment with Dr. Eliot. Let’s not keep her waiting.”

“Shall I expect the princess’s return this afternoon, Your Highness?” asked the nanny.

Levana’s gut tightened. “No. I will take her back to our private quarters after the appointment.” She watched as Winter climbed down the ladder, graceful in the way that only a four-year-old child could be, even with her chubby legs and a very full skirt. Her hair bounced as she dropped to the floor.

The blanket shifted again. Selene, peering out from the gap.

Levana met her stare, and she could sense the distrust from the child, the instinctual dislike. Jaw tightening, she sucked in a quick breath.

“I have a job for you.”

The nanny, growing uncomfortable, rose from the curtsy. “For me, Your Highness?”

“Do you have a family? Any children of your own?”

“Oh. No, Your Highness.”

“A husband, or a lover?”

The girl flushed. She was probably no more than fifteen herself, but that meant so little in Artemisia.

“No. I am not married, Your Highness.”

Levana nodded. Selene had no family, and neither did this girl—none that needed her, at least. It was perfect.

It was meant to be.

A hand slipped into Levana’s, making her jump.

“I’m ready to go, Mother,” said Winter.

Pulse thrumming, Levana yanked her hand away. “Go wait in the corridor. I’ll be there in a moment.”

Crestfallen, Winter turned and waved at Selene. A tiny hand snaked out from beneath the blanket and waved back, before Winter floated out of the nursery.

Now. She would do it now.

After today, it would all be over.

Levana pressed her hands against her skirt, wicking off her damp palms. “Go into the playhouse,” she said, almost like she was speaking to herself. “Go be with the princess. It is almost time for her nap.” She spoke slowly, impressing the idea into the nanny’s mind. Reaching into a hidden pocket, she produced a candle, already half burned. “It will be dark under that blanket, so you will want this candle to see by. Set it out of the way so the princess doesn’t accidentally burn herself. Near the edge of the playhouse. Under that blanket … the one with the apple blossoms. You will stay with the girl until you both fall asleep. You are already tired. It will not take long.”

The nanny tilted her head to one side, like listening to a song that she couldn’t quite place.

Producing a tiny book of matches, Levana let the nanny hold the candle while she lit it. Her hands trembled with the spark of the match, fear of the flame tensing every muscle. By the time the wick took light, she could feel the flame creeping up the little match, threatening to singe her fingers.

Levana hastily shook it out, breathing easier the second the flame was extinguished. She dropped the smoldering match into the nanny’s apron pocket. The girl said nothing.

“Go now. The princess is waiting.”

Empty eyed, the nanny turned and wandered toward the little playhouse, carrying the lit candle aloft. Selene was peering out again. Confused and curious.

Licking her lips, Levana forced herself to turn away. In the corridor, she grabbed Winter’s hand without a word and tugged her toward the doctor’s office. Her heart was pummeling against the inside of her chest.

She had done it. She had done what she needed to do.

Now she had only to wait.

*   *   *

It was more than an hour before Levana heard the first stirrings within the palace. Though her nerves were throbbing the entire time since she’d left the nursery, it had already begun to feel like a dream. Just another one of her fantasies, resulting in disappointment. While Dr. Eliot checked that Winter was as healthy as any child had ever been, Levana paced around the waiting room. The doctor’s office was in the palace, a satellite office from the one she kept at the med-center on the other side of the city, so that she could be on call at the slightest sign of a cough or fever from the royal family.

Realizing that she was still holding the little book of matches, Levana checked that no one was around and dropped them into a trash bin, then wiped her hands on an upholstered chair as if the evidence might show itself in ashen traces on her fingertips.

“Doctor!”

Levana jumped, spinning toward the office’s open doorway. In the other room, Dr. Eliot’s voice went quiet, and then she appeared holding a vitals scanner in one hand. Behind her, Winter was sitting on a papered table, swinging her stockinged feet against the side.