Verista was not usually a kind woman, and she normally did not care to meddle in other families’ matters. But it was such a waste, letting the girl waste away with family who did not value her.

It was true that she was younger than most girls who came to become ladies in waiting, and Verista could guess that the girl’s education had not been a priority or even a concern for the Kaldors. But she was intelligent, she was considerate, and she would be a good influence on Evana. They could be companions or playmates and be educated together.

“Your majesty,” Hedith said. Laureline was on the makeshift stage in the music room, but it was like the center of the room had shifted. Everyone was looking at Ardisia, who looked stunned by the queen’s sudden request. “My daughter is young, and she is often—”

Hedith stopped speaking, feeling Wright’s glare before she saw it. She had been about to say Ardisia was often sick.

“Of course, your majesty,” she said instead. “It would be the greatest honor.”

“Wonderful,” the queen said. “I will send a carriage for her once we return to the capital. You need not trouble yourselves with that. She will be the responsibility of the crown.”

After Laureline half-heartedly played a few more songs, it was time for them to leave. They had more nobles to visit in the region before returning to the capital.

“Sia, don’t worry about anything. You’ll be well taken care of in the capital. Whenever you miss your family, you will be allowed to visit them,” Verista assured her. “I know you’ll miss them, but this will be good for you.”

She offered warm goodbyes to the rest of the family and got into the carriage. The king took off his coat once the carriage doors were closed.

“Looks like you chose the wrong daughter,” King Berlon commented.

“No, they did,” Verista said with a laugh.

King Berlon was uneasy with the arrangement. It wasn’t often that Verista did things without consulting him. He knew that she was sure she had made the right decision. If not, she would already be second guessing herself and asking for his advice.

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

“What makes her special?” he asked. He had noticed the older daughter first. The girl was cheerful and pleasant, she was very pretty, and she was the daughter that Wright Kaldor had mentioned multiple times during their conversation. There was something strange about the younger one. She was one of those old souls, and behaved very unlike a child in the time he had seen her. She was polite, she was intelligent, but she was not childlike.

“She was intelligent,” Verista said. At the beginning, Verista had considered a betrothal between Robalt and Laureline. Not because the girl was pretty, but because Baronet Kaldor’s wealth was impossible to ignore. Sooner or later, he would be elevated to a higher rank due to his contributions to the kingdom. It would be better to ally themselves to a man who was so driven to making money. However, she had preferred Sia over Laureline. The two sisters were silence and loudness, and she had heard more in Sia’s silences than she’d heard in Laureline’s incessant prattling.

Sia had made it abundantly clear why Laureline was unsuitable without directly saying so. It didn’t make sense that such a young girl was so good at using words to her advantage, to drawing comparisons without arousing her older sister’s suspicions. But she had, and Verista saw some part of herself in the little girl’s audacity.

“The girl is very young to be stay away from her parents,” Berlon thought aloud.

“She is Robalt’s age,” the queen said. “And she will be better off in the castle. At least we do not dress children in cast-offs.”

Berlon hadn’t noticed, but when he thought of it, the clothes were part of the reason why she appeared so thin, so frail. He knew that in poorer families, children wore their elder siblings’ clothings, but even there, clothing was altered to fit new owners. To think that such a rich family had not done even that for their daughter was nonsensical.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“The mother looked aghast that the girl appeared in front of me. I believe they were planning to keep her in her room until we left,” Verista said.

“They might come to expect a betrothal between Sia and Robalt instead,” Berlon said.

Verista shook her head. Hedith had appeared to believe Sia to be stupid, to be worthless. She doubted they would realize their daughter’s value even in the face of clear evidence. They would think that the royals were odd for choosing their inferior daughter over their perfect Laureline.

“Do you think she is an illegitimate child they brought in?” Berlon wondered. “Or an adopted child? Surely family would not be so negligent of their own child.”

Queen Verista said, “I do not know.”

Blood was not always an indicator of loyalty or love. Sometimes it was just a burden to be borne, a binding that tied unwilling people together until someone made the difficult decision to cut everything between them.