Jocelyn hadn’t fully unpacked my trunks. She’d only taken out a few dresses to hang on the row of hooks beside the door. I’d planned to wear a simple gray dress today—like all days. Except there was a folded pile of clothes on the floor, right inside the door. The locked door. At some point while I’d been asleep, someone, on my husband’s errand, had broken into my room to bring me clothing. To bring me boots. To bring me pants. I didn’t wear pants. Ever. My last name, my home, my crown, and my family were gone, but damn it, I wasn’t going to lose my clothes, too. I was a woman who liked
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