Chapter Twenty-Five - Cassie

The young Princess was a born storyteller – not a liar, though, he was convinced of that – recounting details of her early life as if they had happened to someone else. If he were in the market, Xander reflected, she might have made a good queen. Where was another matter – that accent! – yet it was becoming easier to decipher as time went on.

*

It was the day of her first appearance in the royal court and King Rupert’s youngest daughter was nervous, excited and hiding a secret from everyone except her personal maid. Even so she sat patiently enough and upright on the carved wooden chair, staring at her reflected image in the mirror atop her dressing table, while Beatrice combed her long dark locks. The brocade gown was stiff and laced tightly at the back. It bore the faint aroma of the chest it had been stored in for so long, dense wood and something indefinable, like old perfume except more bitter.

Had it really once belonged to her lady mother, the Queen?

Cassie resisted the very re