After a moment’s thought, Levana answered, “Do you have any gloves?” She already had plenty, but gloves wouldn’t have to be sized. And she liked wearing gloves. They made for one less thing she had to hide with her glamour.

“Oh, yes, I have a wonderful assortment of gloves.”

Balancing with one hand on the edge of a wooden dresser, Solstice bent over to pull out one of the lower drawers. It was filled with women’s gloves, each neatly folded atop a layer of tissue paper. “Will you be wearing a glamour for the occasion?”

Levana stiffened. “What do you mean?”

Solstice glanced up in surprise, and Levana sucked in a breath, realizing that her palms were sweating. She was suddenly angry. Angry that this woman was so effortlessly pretty. Angry that tonight she would sleep beside her doting husband. That soon she would hold a wrinkled, wailing baby in her arms and that child would never question whether it was loved, or whether its parents loved each other.

Nothing Levana wanted had ever come that easily.

Solstice must have noticed a darkness lurking in Levana’s eyes. She stood up, her expression showing the first hints of caution. She was breathing heavier than before, as if the small motion of opening the drawer had exhausted her, and there was a bead of sweat on her upper lip. She certainly was a fragile thing, wasn’t she?

And yet her gentle smile never left. “I only meant that if you’ll be using a glamour, we can pick out a color that will complement your chosen skin tone. Or … if you already know what gown you’ll be wearing, we can coordinate the two.”

Trying to smother the envy that had stoked inside her chest, Levana looked down at her hands. The long, slender fingers and flawless skin that weren’t really hers.

Wetting her lips, she met Solstice’s gaze again. “What would you choose for yourself?”

Solstice quirked her head to one side, reminding Levana of the small birds in the palace menagerie when they heard an unfamiliar sound and mistook it for a predator.

Solstice returned her attention to the drawer of gloves. “Well…,” she said uncertainly. “I’ve always been fond of jewel tones, myself.” Crouching again, she peeled back a couple layers of tissue paper and emerged with a set of silk gloves in rich sapphire blue. Though the gloves themselves were undecorated, their tops were rimmed with small gold chains and each had a tiny metal clasp. Levana guessed that they would reach almost to her shoulders. Solstice held the gloves against Levana’s wrist, showing the contrast with her dark skin. “What do you think?”

Pressing her lips together, Levana ran her thumb over the gold clasps. “What are these for?”

“It’s part of a new design I’ve been working on. It’s meant to be a set. See, they go with this necklace…” She led Levana to a jewelry counter lined with chains and beads and fasteners, and gestured at a gold collar. At first Levana assumed it was made of metal, but when she picked it up, she realized that it was tightly woven gold thread, intricately braided together and flexible in her grip. Two more clasps were attached to it on opposite sides. Sol continued, “I have small filigree chains that connect it to the gloves, see?”

Levana did see. It was beautiful and unusual, two things that were always popular in court fashion, but not gaudy as Levana found so many of the trendy pieces to be.

She trailed her fingers over the braided threads and imagined wearing it on her neck. How regal she would look. How it would accentuate her throat and collarbone, how the deep blue silk would look so stunning against her honey skin and rich brown hair.

Only then did she realize that in the fantasy, she looked like Solstice Hayle.

She set down the necklace, and Solstice gestured back to the dresser. “Would you like to see the other gloves?”

“No,” said Levana. “I’ll take these. And the necklace too.”

“Oh—wonderful! Will you … do you want to take them with you today, or did you want them to be personalized?”

“Personalized?”

Solstice nodded. “That’s what I specialize in—the little flourishes that, I like to think, set my shop apart from all the other seamstresses in Artemisia. If there’s a particular design you’d like embroidered on the gloves, I should be able to have them done by tomorrow morning. Some of my clients like to get their favorite flower, or their initials…”

Levana glanced at the quilt of Earth that hung on the wall. “You did that, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did.” Solstice laughed, and her laughter was surprisingly giddy, like a child’s. “Although it took much longer than a single evening. Do you like it?”

Levana frowned. She did like it, very much. But she didn’t want to say so.

“You can embroider the gloves for me,” she said. “I want the design to be something whimsical, like you did in the quilt. Maybe something with an L in it, but nothing too obvious.”

“An L? Like Luna.” Her smile was back, as warm as ever. “I’d be happy to. Shall I have it delivered in the morning?”

“Yes.” Levana paused, before squaring her shoulders. “Have it delivered to the palace. Address it to Princess Levana, and I will let the stewards know that I am expecting a delivery. They will see that you receive payment.”

Solstice’s smile froze, her eyes caught between surprise and panic. Levana knew the look well, the look when any of the palace servants realized they’d been in the presence of royalty and their minds skittered to recall if they’d said or done anything worth punishing. Gathering herself, Solstice gave a half curtsy, using the countertop to keep her balance. “I am sorry I didn’t recognize you, Your Highness. It is such an incredible honor to be in your service.”