The morning light in England was pale and cold, a far cry from the warm gold that bathed the gardens of France.

It filtered through the high windows of Katherine’s new chambers, casting long stripes across the floor and catching the frost on the outer glass.

Katherine lay still in the heavy bed, listening.

There it was again — the steady rhythm of boots outside her door. Whoever stood guard had not moved all night.

She rose slowly, the stone floor biting at her bare feet. The air in the room held a damp chill, the kind that clung to the skin no matter how many layers one wore. She crossed to the table where the untouched roses from yesterday lay; another petal had fallen, pale against the dark wood.

Pulling the bell cord by the door, she waited. The sound echoed faintly somewhere beyond the corridor.

A young maid eventually entered, her eyes downcast. She curtsied deeply, not meeting Katherine’s gaze.

“Good morning, Your Highness. I am Alice. I will serve you.”

Katherine nodded. “Thank you, Alice. Please—call me Katherine when we are alone.”

The maid hesitated before replying, “It would not be proper, Your Highness. The Empress is very particular.”

So even her own attendants would not speak to her as a person. Katherine forced a polite smile. “Then I will not insist. May I have warm water for washing?”

Alice curtsied again and left, her steps quick, as if she feared being caught lingering.

---

Breakfast was served in her chambers.

A modest tray: bread, soft cheese, berries, and tea. Katherine ate little. The tea was strong and bitter, its heat doing little to drive the cold from her.

When Alice returned to clear the tray, she brought a folded gown of deep blue silk. “The Empress requests your presence in the solar this morning.”

Katherine’s pulse quickened. “Alone?”

“Yes, Your Highness. The Crown Prince is already at the council chamber.”

So Adrian had left her without a word. It was perhaps a blessing — one less layer of frost to contend with.

---

The Empress’s solar was a grand chamber facing east, sunlight spilling over gilded furnishings and delicate embroidery frames. The warmth here was artificial, provided by a blazing hearth and the faint scent of lavender.

Eva sat by the window, a hoop of half-finished embroidery in her lap. She did not rise when Katherine entered.

“Your Highness,” Katherine greeted, curtseying with practiced grace.

Eva’s eyes — sharp and assessing — flicked over her before she gestured to a chair opposite.

“You slept well, I trust?”

“Well enough, Your Majesty.”

A faint smile curved Eva’s lips. “It is good you rest. You will need strength. This court is not forgiving.”

Katherine folded her hands in her lap. “I am prepared to do my duty to England.”

Eva’s needle stilled. “Duty is obedience. That is the first lesson you must learn. In France, perhaps your rank excused you from scrutiny. Here, every step you take will be judged — and missteps punished.”

Katherine met her gaze evenly, though her heart beat faster. “I will endeavor not to misstep.”

“See that you don’t.” Eva set aside her embroidery and leaned forward slightly. “You will join me for the ladies’ tea this afternoon. Many of England’s most influential wives will attend. They will expect a future queen who is gracious, intelligent… and humble.”

The emphasis on the last word was deliberate. Katherine inclined her head. “I will attend, Your Majesty.”

Eva’s smile returned, thin and cold. “Good. We will see if France has taught you anything useful.”

---

The tea was less a social gathering and more an inspection.

The solar had been transformed with low tables, delicate porcelain cups, and plates of sugared fruits. Ladies in rich gowns sat in small groups, their conversation lilting and low until Katherine entered. Then, like a flock of birds sensing a hawk, they fell silent and watched.

Katherine moved among them, offering greetings in her clear, accented English. Some replied politely, others barely dipped their heads before returning to their companions.

Eva remained close, introducing her selectively — only to those whose families were staunchly loyal to the crown. The rest she allowed Katherine to approach unprompted, as though testing her ability to navigate frost and subtle hostility.

It was a performance, Katherine realized. She was being displayed, her manners and poise examined like jewels under candlelight, every flaw to be noted and remembered.

When the tea ended, Katherine felt as though she had been standing in a draft for hours.

---

She returned to her chambers, only to be summoned again in the evening — this time to the grand banquet hall.

Alice laced her into a gown of ivory satin threaded with silver. The weight of the jewels at her throat and wrists felt almost punitive. As she stood before the mirror, she told herself she would endure this day as she had endured the rest: with her chin high and her voice steady.

---

The banquet hall was ablaze with light from dozens of chandeliers, the scent of roasted meat and spiced wine thick in the air. Nobles filled the long tables, the sound of conversation and laughter rising like waves — until she entered.

The silence was immediate.

Every head turned toward her. Conversations cut off mid-sentence. The scrape of chairs against the floor echoed like a drumbeat in the stillness.

From the high table, Adrian looked at her — not warmly, not coldly, but with the detached gaze of a man assessing a stranger.

Somewhere down the hall, someone muttered a word in English she did not yet know, but the sneer that accompanied it told her enough.

She stepped forward into that silence, every eye a weight pressing against her.

From the far end of the table, the Empress’s voice rang clear.

“Come, Princess. Let us see if you can greet our court without offending them.”