A month later, I sit in the bedroom of the tavern, Kam standing beside me. I pull a brush through my short red hair, watching the curls bounce around the crown of my head. Kam laces up my white dress, tying the corset with a bow and straightening the sleeves.

“You look beautiful,” she says, moving a couple pieces of hair out of my face. I smile and stand up, hugging her tightly.

“Thank you, Kamora,” I say. “Do you think he’ll like it?”

She ...