Kit sat on the low stool in front of the mirror in her chambers as her ladies worked on her hair. Already dressed in the simple white gown she would wear for her Proem Ceremony in less than an hour, she tried not to look at her own reflection or look down at what she was wearing as it served as a reminder of where she would be headed next, and she would just as soon be going anywhere else.
Her ladies had both assured her there was nothing to fear and even thought the council’s idea of having one of her guards perform the ceremony rather than the feeble physician was a good one. “He will likely be more capable,” Isla had offered in her meek voice.
“He will likely be more fulfilling,” Avinia had joked, and both of her cousins had giggled, though Kit had not. She had reminded them that this
