She seemed to be dragging someone along behind her.
“What is the meaning of this?!” The king demanded.
Cristyne emerged, the turtledove just behind her wearing my old favorite party dress. She curtsied lower than I had previously thought physically possible before drawing near Andrien. “That girl is an impostor!” Cristyne cried, eliciting loud chattering from the crowd.
“You are on dangerous ground, girl,” Andrien warned. “I know exactly who this is,” he said squeezing my hand.
“Nay, she is but a poor girl out for all the money she can get. See here, I have the real Marina Lennon!” And with that she thrust forward the blond turtledove. She cleaned up nicely and the resemblance between us was really very convincing. I saw Andrien hesitate for a moment and broke out in a nervous sweat.
“You lie,” he accused Cristyne.
“I would never dare!” She cried, convincingly. “But if you won’t believe me, have her tell you herself!” The turtledove stood, her head bowed demurely and I saw her smile mischievously.