The Betrothed (The Betrothed #1)(52)

I gave her a weak smile. “Very well.” She held out a robe, and I stepped into it. “Let’s go take a look,” I said as I marched over and opened the box.

The sight of three perfect crowns set in black velvet was enough to leave me breathless. I ran my fingers over them, taking in how unique they were. The first was mostly gold and looked similar to the Crown of Estus, while the other two were much more bejeweled. The second was primarily covered in rubies that suited Coroan red, and the final was much more pointed and covered in diamonds.

“The third is my favorite,” Nora insisted. “But you’d look stunning in any of them.”

“What do you think, Hollis?” Delia Grace asked. “The first one looks like—”

“The Crown of Estus,” I finished. “I thought that, too.”

“You’d match. That sends a message.”

It certainly would. But I smiled to myself, remembering an old conversation with Silas. There was a language to our clothes, our choices, one others could choose to listen to or ignore.

“I won’t be wearing any of these. Don’t send them back, though,” I ordered. “I want my choice to be a surprise.”

“The jealous side of me is reluctant to admit this,” Delia Grace began, “but I think you may stop hearts tonight.”

“Do you like it?”

“It suits you. Better than any of those stuffy crowns would have, for sure.” She moved beside me to look in the mirror, and I couldn’t help but think she was right; this was me.

Silas had once made a joke about me belonging in a crown of flowers, and now I was wearing the biggest and most fragrant blooms I could find atop my head. I’d even managed to stick a few pins with jewels on it to hold it to my hair, and they caught the light, making it all the more special.

I didn’t think I’d ever love a crown as much as this one, and I’d only be able to wear it once.

Beside me, I could see Delia Grace’s shoulders sinking. She, too, had flowers in her hair, though none quite so dazzling as mine. It was yet another instance where Delia Grace was forced to accept having things one step below mine. I thought it must really be bothering her now, in the moment she had to accept her hopes for the crown were truly over.

“I need you to know,” I said, “that if your plan had worked, if it had been you, I’d have done my absolute best to attend you. Though I don’t think anyone could have done what you have in these last few weeks. Honestly, Delia Grace, I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”

She rested her head against mine. “Just wrap Lord Farrow up in a nice big ribbon, and that’ll do.”

I giggled. “Absolutely. If I can, I’ll see that you are married before I am.”

“You will?”

“You’ve spent a long time waiting for things to happen. So long as you’re pleased with him, I can’t see a reason to wait.”

She crushed me in a hug, her eyes welling up. I hadn’t seen her cry since we were thirteen, after a particularly terrible bout of being teased. She vowed after that no one would see her cry again. If she’d ever so much as let a tear slip, I never knew about it.

The moment was broken by Mother marching through the door, still refusing to knock.

“What in the world are you wearing?”

My face fell instantly. “What’s wrong?” I looked back at the mirror, turning to take in every angle.

“Take those flowers off your head. You’re a lady; you need to be wearing a proper crown for Crowning Day.” She pointed to her own head, where she was wearing a small crown that had been passed down through the generations of the Parth family. It was not so grand as the one she’d lost, but it was old, and that would do.

I sighed. “Oh, is that all? I chose these on purpose.”

“Well, take them off on purpose.” She walked back to the receiving area, knowing exactly what was in the box on my table. “King Jameson sent you perfectly gorgeous crowns. Just look at this!” she said, holding up the one encrusted with rubies.

“It’s beautiful, Mother. But it’s not for me.”

She set it back down. “No, no. Come and look again. The lords won’t like this at all.” She grabbed me by the arm and pulled me over to the box.

“I don’t care what they think of me.” And I didn’t say it, but I didn’t care much what Jameson thought, either.

“You should. The king needs them, and you need the king.”

“No, I don’t. I just can’t do—”

“Hollis, you will listen to me!”

I took her by the shoulders, forcing her to look into my eyes and speaking with a calm, steady voice. “I know exactly who I am. And I’m content with it.” I touched her cheek. “You’re my mother. I wish you could be content with me, too.”

Her eyes darted all around my face as if she were seeing me, truly seeing me, for the very first time. Maybe I only imagined the tears in her eyes, but her tone was much softer when she finally answered me.

“I suppose they look right on you. Oh . . . are there jewels in there, too?”

“Yes! Do you like them?” I did a turn so they could all catch the light.

She nodded, a whisper of a smile on her face. “Yes, I think I do.”