“You’re a natural,” Parveen said one day as she admired his work.

Valek discovered that cutting and styling hair was similar to carving a stone. You started with a formless mass and then you shaped it into a thing of beauty.

After a season of working in the shop, Valek felt confident not only in his ability to blend in as a female, but in his ability to set the next phase of his plan in motion. Getting to this point had taken almost two seasons. He had only about ten weeks left until the Commander arrived.

One morning near the end of the warming season, Parveen arrived to open the shop. Sweat beaded her pale face and she moved as if she walked on the deck of a boat in storm-tossed seas. She pressed a hand to her mouth while her other groped for a chair.

Valek rushed to her side and helped her sit down. “You look awful.”

“I feel awful.” She hunched forward, resting her forehead in her hands.

“Let me take you home. You should sleep.”

“I can’t. The Queen—”

“Wouldn’t want to get sick.”

“She thinks she’s immune. That illness only strikes commoners.” Parveen pushed to her feet. “I’d better leave now. It’ll take me...” She wobbled. “Longer.”

“I’m coming with you,” Valek said.

“But—”

“Do you want to be alone when you pass out in the street? If that’s the case, leave your purse here.”

“All right.”

It took forever to get Parveen to the castle and up to Queen Jewel’s rooms. Before Parveen collapsed into a chair to catch her breath, Valek pricked her with a sleeping potion.

“Why are you here?” the Queen demanded. “What’s wrong with her?”

This was the first time Valek had seen the Queen in person. Known for bewitching the King with her exquisiteness, her emerald eyes, long eyelashes, full lips, high cheekbones, curvy figure and flawless skin were legendary, yet he found no beauty within her. He curtsied and explained.

“Help her stand, then. I need my hair done.”

But Parveen had passed out. He made a show of trying to wake her.

Impatient, Queen Jewel strode over and slapped her cheek. Hard. “Wake up, Parveen. I will not be late for my appointments.” She reached back to deliver another blow.

Valek stepped close and the Queen’s hand slammed into his back instead. It stung. The lady had an arm. He ignored the pain. “If I may, your majesty. I can style your hair for you.”

“You?” Her cold gaze swept over him.

“I’ve been working with Parveen for seasons.”

She glanced back at the unconscious woman and sighed. “All right, but if I look hideous I’m sending you to the gallows.”

Nice lady. The idea of killing her no longer seemed so heartless.

The Queen settled into an overstuffed chair facing a mirror. Valek gathered her long thick auburn hair in his hands. It reached halfway down her back and flowed like silk. He studied her oval-shaped face and slightly pointed chin, deciding on a style that would enhance her features.

With quick, sure motions, he pinned her hair up, creating rows of curls that gathered into an intricate knot at the back of her head. Then he pulled a few tendrils down to drape over her shoulders. Without being asked, he sorted through her gowns and selected a pale green one trimmed with cream lace. Then he matched her makeup to the colors of the gown and sewed an extra piece of lace onto a barrette, clipping it into her hair. He fished a long pearl necklace from her overflowing jewelry box. It was so long that he looped it three times around her neck to create a cascading effect over her décolletage.

When finished, she surveyed herself in the ring of full-length mirrors for a long time. “Quiet, quick and efficient. What’s your name?”

“Valma, your majesty.”

“All right, Valma, you can fill in until Parveen is better.”

“Thank you. I’ll take her home and be right back.”

“Back?”

“Just in case you need your makeup fixed or would like a new hairstyle for the afternoon.”

“What about your clients?” she asked.

He gave her a puzzled expression. “No one is more important than you. I’ll cancel all my appointments.”

Her expression grew distant and he saw the wheels turning. Had he hooked her?

“Can you stay overnight, as well?” she asked.

Yes. “If it pleases your majesty.”

“It does.” She returned to gazing at herself in the mirror.

* * *

By the time Parveen felt better, Valek had usurped her. Parveen took the news well. Actually, she seemed relieved and was thrilled with the diamond thank-you gift for her years of service that was supposedly from the Queen. Happy that he didn’t have to kill Parveen, Valek settled into his new position. The Queen assigned him a small two-room apartment between the guest wing and her suite.

Between grooming sessions with the Queen, he explored every inch of the castle. He marked the location of every member of the royal family’s sleeping quarters except the King’s. Valek avoided encountering the King. He’d seen paintings of the man—tall, broad-shouldered, with graying black hair and rugged good looks, but Valek worried if he saw the King in person, he’d kill him right there.

No. Valek planned to strike in the middle of the night—an assassin’s best friend. And the only time the King spent without his entourage of guards was when he visited the Queen’s bedroom at night, which wasn’t often or predictable. And with the rumblings of revolt in the air, his visits became more infrequent. At least when the King planned to visit her, she received word in the early evening and she’d call Valek to style her hair the way the King liked it.