She reminded herself again that she needed to have something more suitable made to cover her nightgown during these late-night visits. It wasn’t a question of the cost, but of getting up the nerve to approach the seamstress. Or anyone. Maggie didn’t mind being the palace’s resident ghost. On the day of their private wedding ceremony two weeks before, Ulric had presented her with the greatest gift a newly minted recluse could have asked for—the collected works of Tyrean history in leather-bound volumes that covered an entire wall of her sitting room. She’d barely cracked the covers, but had already learned much about her new husband’s rule. So much of the early years didn’t fit with what she knew of him. But then, she reminded herself, a Sorcerer lives more than one lifetime, and people change. If she had anything to do with it, the future of Tyrea would be brighter and better for everyone than the past had ever been. Ulric visited her frequently, but the queen had picked up on the fact that he doted on his new wife.
