“Let’s see,” Amya calls from the other side. I tug back the curtain and step out, and Amya’s jaw drops. The royal family wears black. Nadir’s companions wear black. But I am not his conquest. I am not his to claim. I’m not part of their royal line. I have my own family. And I am my own fucking castle. Our gazes meet, and I can see Amya understands what this means to me. “It’s perfect,” she says. “We’ll take it.”
