Lyra's POV
The dress hits me in the face before I can scream.
"Put it on. Now." The head servant—Madame Thorne—stands over me with her arms crossed. She looks like someone's mean grandmother except grandmothers don't normally threaten you with execution.
I'm still reeling from Princess Rosalie's words. The Dragon King can smell lies. How am I supposed to trick someone who can actually feel when I'm being dishonest? "I said NOW!" Madame Thorne claps her hands so loud I jump.
Three other slaves swarm me, pulling off my simple bookshop dress before I can stop them. I try to cover myself but they're too fast, pulling and tugging until I'm standing in just my underclothes.
"I can dress myself—"
"Princesses don't dress themselves." Madame Thorne shoves the gown at me. "They stand still and let others serve them. First lesson: stop acting like a farmer."
The insult hurts but I bite my tongue. Getting angry won't save Papa.
The gown weighs more than a bag of flour. Heavy cloth with gems sewn into every inch. When they finally get it on me, I can barely breathe.
"Walk," Madame Thorne orders.
I take one step and trip over the hem. My face hits the floor hard enough to make my eyes water.
The maids don't help me up. They just stand there, waiting.
"Princesses don't fall," Madame Thorne says coldly. "Again."
I stumble to my feet, the dress fighting me the whole way. Take another step. Trip again.
"Pathetic. " Again.
Trip. "Useless."
Again.
Trip. "The Dragon King will eat you alive."
Something inside me snaps. I shove myself up one more time, breathing hard. "Then maybe you should teach me instead of just insulting me!"
Madame Thorne's eyebrows shoot up. For a second, I think she'll hit me.
Instead, she smiles. A real smile that makes her whole face change.
"Good. You have a spine after all." She steps closer. "Princess Rosalie never raises her voice. She never shows anger. She's been trained since birth to be perfect and boring." Her eyes close. "But you? You have fire. We need to hide it or the Dragon King will know instantly you're not her."
My stomach drops. "How do I hide who I am?"
"You learn to become someone else." She snaps her fingers and staff bring a mirror.
The girl staring back at me does look like the princess in that picture. Same brown hair. Same strange eyes that shift color. But my face is rounder from eating normal meals. My hands are rough from work. My stance is all wrong.
"Three days," Madame Thorne says. "That's all we have to transform a bookshop girl into a princess." She walks in a circle around me. "Day one: moving. Day two: speech. Day three: thoughts. By the time you leave, you'll know Princess Rosalie's life better than your own."
"But the Dragon King can sense lies!" The words burst out before I can stop them. "Princess Rosalie told me—" "Princess Rosalie wants you to fail." Madame Thorne cuts me off. "She's terrified you'll succeed and she'll lose her chance at happiness." She leans close. "But here's what that spoiled girl doesn't know. The Dragon King can feel lies, yes. But only when you speak them. If you truly believe you're Princess Rosalie, if you make her memories your memories, her life your life—then it's not a lie anymore."
My head spins. "You want me to forget who I am?"
"I want you to survive." Her voice softens just slightly. "Your father is counting on you. Don't you dare let him down."
The next three days blur into a nightmare of exercise.
I walk until my feet bleed. Memorize until my head throbs. Practice Rosalie's fake laugh, her delicate hand movements, the way she tilts her head when listening. Every detail counts.
"Princess Rosalie hates strawberries but pretends to love them because the queen does."
"She's afraid of horses but won't admit it."
"She plays the piano badly but everyone lies and says she's talented."
"She's in love with Duke Magnus Blackthorn and writes him secret love letters."
Wait. "Duke Magnus? The man she's giving up her whole planned marriage for?"
Madame Thorne's face goes dark. "Never say that name in the North. If the Dragon King finds out the real princess rejected him for a human duke, he'll see it as an insult worth dying for."
Another secret I have to keep. Another lie that could get everyone killed.
By day three, I can almost walk without tripping. Almost speak with Rosalie's accent. Almost believe her memories are mine.
Almost.
But almost isn't good enough when your father's life rests on perfect.
On the final night, Madame Thorne brings me a locked wooden box.
"Inside are letters," she says softly, looking around like someone might be listening. "Real letters Princess Rosalie wrote about her life. Her fears. Her dreams. Read them tonight. Become her."
My hands shake as I take the box. "Why are you helping me? Really?"
She's quiet for so long I think she won't answer.
"Because twenty years ago, I was given an impossible choice too." Her eyes look far away. "I picked wrong. People I loved died because I wasn't brave enough." She focuses on me again. "Don't be like me. Be braver."
She leaves before I can ask what she means.
I open the box and pull out the first letter. Rosalie's handwriting is perfect, like everything about her.
Dear Magnus,
Father announced my engagement to the Dragon King today. I cried until I couldn't breathe. They say he's a monster with scales and claws who burns anyone who displeases him. They say his kingdom is full of demons and animals from nightmares.
I'd rather die than marry him.
But I have a plan...
My blood turns to ice as I read the next lines.
I found a girl who looks exactly like me. A nobody from a village who won't be missed. I'll send her in my place. When the Dragon King finds the deception and kills her, we'll have the perfect excuse for war. Father can finally crush the North and take their riches.
She's just a tool. One farmer life for the good of the kingdom.
All my love,
Rosalie
The letter falls from my shaking hands.
They planned this. All of it.
I was never meant to succeed.
I'm meant to die so they can start a fight.
Princess Rosalie doesn't want me to fail because she's scared I'll succeed.
She wants me to fail because my death is part of her plan.
A knock at the door makes me jump. A guard enters.
"Time to go. The train to the North leaves in one hour."
I stare at the scattered letters, at the proof that I'm walking into a trap.
If I refuse now, Papa dies.
If I go, I die—and then Papa probably dies anyway.
Unless.
Unless I do something nobody expects.
What if I don't just pretend to be Princess Rosalie?
What if I make the Dragon King actually fall in love with me—the real me—before anyone can use my death to start their war?
It's crazy. Impossible.
But it's the only chance I have.
I stand up, brush off the heavy gown, and look at myself in the mirror one last time.
"My name is Lyra Everhart," I whisper to my reflection. "And I'm going to survive this."
The guard clears his throat. "The Chancellor wants to see you before you leave. He has one final order."
My heart pounds as I follow him through dark halls to Ravencroft's office.
The Chancellor sits behind a huge desk, smiling his snake smile.
"Ah, Princess Rosalie. Or should I say, our little actress?" He slides a piece of paper across the desk. "This arrived an hour ago. A message from the Dragon King himself."
I pick it up with shaky fingers and read: I know you're not who you claim to be. Come anyway. We have much to talk.
The paper slips from my hands.
He knows.
The Dragon King already knows I'm a fake.
And he's asking me into his kingdom anyway.
Why?