Chapter 94.5
s usual, Dinsy, you’re perfectly right,” she said, and tossed the pearls into her privy maid’s waiting hands. “The rubies it is.” Putting them on, feeling their weight settle in her ears and around her neck, she felt like a knight of old girding for war. “Oh, Highness,” sighed Dinsy, standing back to make sure every last hair on her royal charge’s head was settled into place. “You do look like that painting of your blessed mother. The one in the Grand Hall, when she was your age.” Farmerion blinked away a prickle of tears. “Really?” “Oh yes, Highness. The spitting image. If the dear king was here he’d say so, I’m sure.” Dinsy’s hand flew to her mouth. “Your Highness. I’m sorry. My tongue runs away with me, I—” “Hush,” said Farmerion. “It’s all right. It doesn’t matter.” A month since
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