The Price of the Crown
Janelle's Pov
The wedding morning came up grey and bitter, and I wore the prince's cloak to it.
Sophia's women dressed me in the plain black of a household servant, and I let them. We had agreed it should look that way. A servant stands at the back of a hall holding a tray, and nobody watches her hands. Mara walked beside me through the crowded courtyard with her chin high and her face pale, a water jug on her hip. She had refused to be left behind. Corin moved ahead of us through the press of bodies, and every few steps he glanced back, checking that we were still there.
The great hall was packed to the rafters. Hundreds of the pack's wolves stood shoulder to shoulder along the pillars, and in the center aisle the nobles of the crown waited in their finest. Banners hung from the antlered beams. Torches burned in every sconce. At the far end, on the dais beside the Blood Seat, stood Lord Magnus.
