She'd merely been the only one left.
Alet was silent, and then she said, "You can still call it off." Her expression was blank, hiding her thoughts expertly. Daleina had practiced that expression in the mirror, but it never quite worked for her. A twitch of her lips or her eyebrows always gave her away.
"You know I can't."
"You can," Alet corrected. "You won't."
Daleina studied her friend. Alet had a fresh scar above her eyebrow. It was puckered and red, but whoever had struck her had missed her eye. She'd chosen to wear her war armor today, instead of ceremonial. The leather still had the royal crest, but it was painted gold and green, rather than encrusted with ornaments that could snag on a branch or a weapon. Why had she-Suddenly, Daleina understood. "You can't follow me. I must do this alone. That's what's upsetting you."
Alet made a face. "You'll be vulnerable to arrows, spears, any kind of thrown implement. This isn't like the trials, where you're separated from the populace. You'll be exposed to everyone and, while all your people love you deeply, a few of them also want to kill you."
"Human enemies don't concern me," Daleina said. "The spirits will protect me."
"You know you can't trust them."
"In this, I can."
Alet shook her head. The knives in her hair did not move. One stray curl slipped out of its pins to touch her forehead, though. Daleina was surprised Alet allowed even that much out of her control. "The spirits want you dead," Alet said flatly.
"They want to kill me. Slight difference. If they allow a human archer to pierce my heart with his or her arrow, then they're denied the pleasure of skinning me alive." Daleina lifted the beautiful dress out of the wardrobe and carried it to her bed. "Help me change?"
Sighing, Alet left her post by the door and crossed to the bed. "You should call one of the palace caretakers to assist you. This ridiculous dress has at least a thousand buttons."
Daleina slid her robe off her shoulders, and it fell into a puddle of silk at her feet. "It has thirty-seven buttons, and I don't want any caretakers with me today. I want my friend."
She saw a muscle in Alet's cheek twitch, nearly a smile, and Daleina smiled back. She held up her arms, and Alet dropped the dress over Daleina's head. She felt as if she were wrapped in a cloud. The layers of skirts fluttered around her. Presenting her back to Alet, she faced the mirror while Alet buttoned her.
She'd need a touch of powder under her eyes to hide the signs of sleeplessness. She couldn't let anyone suspect that she was at less than her full strength. In that, Queen Fara had been correct: the people didn't want to think they had a weak queen. Perhaps add a bit of pink to her cheeks. She looked pale, sheathed in the shimmering white and gold. "Regal or sickly?" Daleina asked.
Stepping back, Alet surveyed her. "You look ethereal."
Daleina rolled her eyes. She'd never been described as "ethereal" in her life. "Just tell me if I need paint or powder."
"Neither. You're lovely, and the people should see your loveliness."
"You're in the oddest mood today, Alet." Daleina faced the mirror again and frowned. The sight of the queen on her first celebratory appearance should comfort the people and set the correct tone for the rest of the celebration. She shouldn't have allowed the dressmakers to add so many layers of skirt or to leave her arms bare. She felt both exposed and confined. Spinning in a slow circle, she watched herself in the mirror.
Quietly, Alet asked, "Have you blacked out again, Your Majesty, since the last time?"
She halted. Yes, she had, alone in her bath last night. "Not once," she lied. "It must have been a fluke. But Master Hamon will find answers. He has my complete confidence-and six vials of my blood, which should be more than enough to run every test he can think of."
"You could postpone this until-"
"Enough, Alet. If you're trying to shake my confidence, you're doing a very good job of it." Leaving the mirror, Daleina crossed to her jewelry box. She selected a simple necklace, delicate leaves carved out of wood and strung on a ribbon of silk. It had been a gift from her family, after she'd been crowned. Her mother had whittled the leaves, and her sister had woven the ribbon. Coming behind her, Alet took the necklace.
Holding her hair up, Daleina let Alet clasp it around her throat. Alet then took a brush and brushed Daleina's hair until it cascaded smoothly over her shoulders and back. Neither of them spoke, until a bell chimed outside.