CHAPTER TEN
Angelica selected her appearance that morning with the care a soldier might have taken strapping on armor. The truth was that it played the same role. The right appearance would protect her then, while the wrong one would see her dead. It should have been a thought that terrified her, but instead, Angelica felt a thrill of excitement at it.
She chose mourning black, but shot through with the opulent red and gold of royalty. Her dress was severe enough to emphasize her authority, without doing anything to make her look less beautiful. That was one weapon she would not blunt. Angelica splashed water on her face to make it look as though she had been crying, settled the queen’s crown on her head, and walked the short distance to the Assembly of Nobles.
Guards and attendants sur
