In the morning, Eric was gone.

It hurt me.

Already I had come to depend on his promise to keep me safe, and without him I felt bereft, vulnerable—weak.

"Good morning, Florimel."

It wasn't Deirdre. It was another of my sister's. Fiona.

Fiona scared me.

And to this day, she still does.

"Eric—" I knew I shouldn't have let my first word be his name—I might as well have put a sign around my neck that said, I'm Florimel—and I'm helpless!—but I couldn't stop myself.

"Eric has duties to attend to this morning, Florimel." She looked at me with those hard, disapproving eyes. "And you would do well to remember that. He's a Prince of Amber—a son of our father. Do not count on him too much."

"Or you either?" I hated being in bed while she stood before me clothed and composed, and undoubtedly knowing what was done to me the night before. I despised myself for feeling so much like a child.

The ghost of a smile touched her lips. "You're learning. Good. Deirdre had your clothing fetched for you. Dress and we will speak later."

"Daddy—" I couldn't keep the fear out of my voice.

"Our father is currently preoccupied with his own difficulties. It will be some time before he returns home, and when he does we will be ready for him."

Had my actions rebounded on Daddy? Was he being blamed for the murder of my rapist?

I felt a surge of savage pleasure at the thought.

Good.

"Dress, Florimel. We have time, but not so much time that it should be wasted." She gave me another look. "I am taking valuable time from my studies to help you. Do not make me regret it."

"I'm sorry, sister—"

"Irrelevant. Do not waste time for things you have no control over, little sister." She reached out and took my hand. "Because you are young, I will give you what I would never share with another sister: advice. Never apologize to one of your siblings. Even if you feel that you should. Especially if you feel you should." She squeezed my hand and then let it go. "I'll be waiting."

"Will Deirdre be there?"

"She's out riding. With Corwin. Do not expect her return before lunch." She left.

I ached when I got out of the bed, but my bruises were already faded. Amberites heal much quicker than those of Shadow, and I knew that in a day or two no one else would ever be able to tell I had been beaten.

The bruises would fade quickly, but the memories … not so much.

But I could not hide in Deirdre's bed forever. I was a Princess of Amber. My childhood was gone, but my life remained. I had decided in that dead king's bed that I would live—and no matter what was required of me, I would survive.

I chose my favorite gown—how Deirdre who had spoken to me all of two times in my life before last night knew which one was my favorite I had no clue—and dressed myself and arranged my hair just so.

Clad once more in my gray and green, I was myself once more—or at least as much of myself as I could expect to be under the circumstances. I took a deep breath, and walked out of the bedroom and back into the light.

Fiona was sitting at a table breaking her fast. She gestured for me to join her, and I did so. There was a lot of food on the table, but not so much when we finished. I was surprised that I had such an appetite after everything, but I had not eaten since Daddy and I had left Amber the night before.

When I was finished, I looked at my sister.

"What was done to you was wrong, Florimel. You bear no blame in it. You have been wronged, and we—your other sisters and I—will do what we can to make sure that you receive justice."

"Deirdre said Daddy—that Father—was too powerful. That there was nothing we could do."

"Correction. There's nothing Eric can do, or any of our brothers with the possible exception of Brand. Our brothers tend to solve all their problems with a sword, little sister, and there are times when a blade cannot resolve all your difficulties. We cannot overwhelm Oberon with force, but we can shame him—and obtain his sacred oath to never do such a thing again."

"Why would he do it again? I'm ruined now." In those days, to a girl of my age, what was done to me, what was taken from me, shamed me forever. No king or emperor would want a wife who was no longer pure. I was damaged goods.

"You are not ruined, Florimel. You are more than that. Or I should say you can be more than that." She looked at me speculatively. "Do you want to be? Do you want to be a fairytale princess who must count on others for her rescue and hope for a happy ending—or do you want to be a Princess of Amber and make your own destiny?"

I knew what she was asking me.

I had been used. I had been abused. By the one person I should have been able to trust over all others. My own Father. He had not traded my innocence for the peace or prosperity of the kingdom. He had sold me for nothing more than a chance to do to that man's daughter what had been done to me.

I had two choices.

I could submit to Father's will upon his return. I could do what he told me. If I did that, I would be safer. Quite possibly I would live longer.

But I would no longer be me.

Or I could oppose him. I could declare that I would be no one's victim, no one's tool. Knowing that to do so might mean my death—and probably a long, nasty death it would be.

I closed my eyes and thought of those things. I do not flatter myself to think that my courage is any more exceptional than my wit.

But in the end, there was only one answer I could make.

I opened my eyes and looked into hers.

"I am Florimel," I whispered. "And I would be a Princess of Amber."