SIGRUN
I had been in the North for long enough to accept that giant wolves existed, but not long enough to stop mentally screaming about it.
And tonight, apparently, I was meeting the people who helped govern them.
No pressure. Absolutely none.
I stared at my reflection for what had to be the fiftieth time. The woman staring back at me looked nothing like the Sigrún I knew. Rita had transformed me into a person who looked as though she belonged in a fantasy movie with an unnecessarily large budget.
The dress was deep blue velvet, soft beneath my fingers and embroidered with silver threads that shimmered like frost. My hair had been braided back from my face with tiny silver pins worked into it.
I looked expensive. But dressing like royalty and being royalty were two very different t
