Chapter 2

Nerissa POV

"Read it twice if you like," Lord Cormac said, sliding the paper across the table. "It says the same thing both times."

The room was a stone box off the Hall of Moons, with one lamp, one scribe, and Beta Dunstan planted against the door as if he expected me to bolt. The scribe's fingers were black with ink to the knuckles. My wrist was still warm where the prince had held it, and I rubbed at it while I read the paper, hunting for Finn's name. It was halfway down.

"It says I'm Luna Princess," I said.

"In title." Cormac was rubbing a ring on his sleeve. "It also says you'll carry the heir at the Blood Moon, forty days from now. The Vessel Rite. The royal healers use his blood and moonwater, and you sleep through most of it."

"Most of it?"

"The boring parts."

"What's clause nine? It says I'm released after the birth."

"With a purse of gold and a carriage home."

"And no claim to the child."

"Naturally. You're the vessel, girl, not the mother."

"The recruiter said surrogate."

"Same thing, with better manners."

"Why did the wolf pick me? Nine girls, and it picked the marsh omega."

Cormac's ring stopped moving on his sleeve. "I'd very much like to know that myself."

"Damn." It came out before I could stop it. "And Finn's bed?"

"The infirmary has been very generous." Cormac smiled. "The bed stays as long as you do. Sign."

My hand shook so badly the N came out like a fishhook. The scribe blotted it without a word.

"Where's my father?"

"Sent home with a purse the size of his head. He wept all the way to the gate, if that helps."

"It doesn't."

"Good girl." Cormac stood and brushed off his coat. "A little advice, since you're new. The last woman who broke a contract with this crown spent four days in the silver cells downstairs. She had plenty to say on the first day."

"And on the fourth?"

"Nothing at all. Do we understand each other?"

"Perfectly. I'll try not to break anything."

"See that you don't. Rest while you can. The prince's wolf is only polite when you're close, so you'll be wanted at his bedside later. Madam Perpetua will take you to your rooms."

"Will I get a key to them?"

"Whatever for?"

Dunstan held the door for me. "Eight months," he said, low enough that Cormac couldn't hear. "Nine girls. He never once held on to any of them."

"Is that good or bad?"

"I haven't decided."

The woman waiting in the corridor was round and soft, in a grey apron over a blue dress, and she smelled like honey and warm bread. She was humming under her breath. My mother used to hum like that when she worked.

"There she is." She took both my hands before I could decide whether to let her. "Perpetua Vane, my love. I keep the Surrogate House, which means I keep the girls. The ones who get carried out of that hall get carried to me."

"The guard said they all go home."

"Every one I could save." Her smile went sad at the edges. "Come, let's get some food for you. You're the color of candle wax."

"Is there someone waiting for you at home?" she asked as we walked. "Besides the little brother?"

"There was a boy."

"Was."

"His name was on the sale paper. He's the one who introduced me."

"Ah." She patted my hand. "Then he's a fool, and you're well rid of him."

"My father said yes too. He said it to Finn's cough, though, not to me."

"A man will always grab for the one who's drowning, love. It doesn't mean he didn't see you."

I looked at the floor tiles and counted them until my eyes behaved.

"Come now," Perpetua said. "What did they call you in Greyfen, besides Nerissa?"

"The marsh mouse."

"Because you're small?"

"Because I'm good at vanishing when somebody's angry."

"Well. Nobody calls you that while I'm in the room."

"Madam." A guard stepped out from the wall. "The Regent's orders. Nothing on her skin. No oils, no soaps. He wants her to smell the way she does now."

"Of course." Perpetua didn't even blink. "Plain water, then. I was only going to put a drop of lavender in the bath. It's good for the nerves, ask any of the girls."

"Everything in this place smells like lavender," I said.

"Does it?" She laughed. "You've a good nose. Feverfew and marsh mint, that's what's on your hands. Who taught you?"

"My mother. Maren. She was a healer."

"Did she write her recipes down?"

"In a notebook. Tobias borrowed it before I left. I haven't had my cordial in four days, and my skin feels like it belongs to somebody smaller."

"Then we'll see what we can do. And don't let the Regent frighten you about the Rite, love. It's old magic, and gentler than he makes it sound. Moonwater, a little of the prince's blood, and my hands. I've brought half this kingdom into the world. First, though, your brother."

The infirmary was warm and smelled of boiled linen and mint. Finn lay in the bed by the window, behind a pane of glass that ran the length of the ward, with the blanket tucked under his chin and one hand curled by his face the way he used to sleep when he was three.

A night healer looked up from her ledger. "He asked for someone called Nessie twice before the syrup took."

"That's me."

"Then you're good for him. His fever dropped when I told him you were coming."

"I told them the good bed," Perpetua said. "He's had his syrup for the night."

"Syrup?"

"For the cough, love. It helps him sleep."

I put my palm flat on the glass. "Hey, bug. I've got news, and you're going to hate it. I'm a princess." A cough tore through him anyway, wet and rattling, hack, hack, ahh-hhk, and his eyebrows pulled together even in his sleep. "He's all I've got," I said.

"Not anymore." Perpetua squeezed my shoulder. "You've got me now, too."

My suite was bigger than our whole house, with a fire already lit and a bed that could have held the entire Greyfen council. The ceiling had painted stars on it, and somebody had left a nightgown on the pillow with the folds still sharp. A tray waited on the table, honey cake and a pot of tea.

"Sit," Perpetua said. "Your hair's been fighting you since the marsh."

"I can do it myself."

"I know you can. Let me anyway."

She braided it slowly, humming the whole time, and I ate half the cake without tasting it. Through the window, across the dark courtyard, one lamp burned at the top of a tower.

"That's his," she said. "Don't think about it tonight."

"What's he like? The prince."

"Still as a stone, and every bit as stubborn." She tied off the braid. "I sit with him most nights. Someone ought to."

"Does he ever make a sound?"

"Only for the girls," she said softly. "Only ever for them."

"Thank you," I said. "I mean it. Nobody's been kind to me in a while."

"Then they weren't paying attention."

"Will somebody come for me?"

"When you're wanted. Sleep if you can, love."

The door closed behind her. I sat on the edge of the bed and pressed my thumb against the inside of my own wrist, right where he had been, and tapped it. Nothing answered, which was a stupid thing to hope for. Then the key turned in the lock, and then again. I tried the handle anyway. It didn't move.