Page 55 of To Bleed A Kingdom

“You put on quite the spectacle earlier,” Tristan notes.

I guess it was naive to think he would simply ignore the incident. Although I doubt anyone could, with all the glares and awed faces tracking our every step.

“It seems being discreet may no longer be an option,” he adds with my continued silence. “It may make a difficult situation even more so.”

“I suspect you may be right.” Peering up at him, I feel a pinch of guilt when I see the lines hardening his face, his tightened lips, and his narrowed gaze as he stares straight ahead. For someone who's most comfortable concealed within shadows, this isn’t the ideal situation for him. Not for me either, but at least I’ve grown accustomed to it.

“You disapprove,” I say; a statement, not a question. “You think I should have submitted.”

“No, never. I just think you could have been a bit more…” He bobs his head. “Tactful.”

I snort. “That’s a tall order.”

“It is, isn’t it?” he says, giving me that disapproving stare that makes me just as defensive as it did when we were children.

“You weren’t kneeling, either,” I retort. “Neither was Amara.”

“Yet no one noticed us.” He chuckles dryly. “They never notice us when you’re around.”

“I’m well aware,” I hiss, jerking my arm free and rushing past, irritated he would say something like that when he knows how much I hate the attention.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mea-”

“I haven't heard one kind word about the Queen since we stepped foot in this godsawfulcity,” I say, rounding on him. “The humans despise her. Her people are terrified of her. Even her own children seem to dislike her.”

“It does appear that way, doesn’t it?”

I roll my eyes at his agreeable response and tilt my chin upward, scrutinizing the massive palace overlooking all Seboia.

The opaque, crystal castle glows with a metallic sheen beneath the sparse light of the two moons. Turrets topped with starlight encrusted gold domes feature stained glass windows depicting Cascadonia’s devout representation of the gods embedded within. But allthese towers are insignificant in comparison to the colossal domed pillar looming above all the rest. So high, it pierces straight through the clouds as if trying to slice through the veil that separates this realm from the rest.

Beneath the arched dome shrouded in even more extravagant, lush jewels than its neighbors is an open archway that houses the true focal point: a royal blue sapphire the size of a house, hovering magically within an open archway. It's the largest, most lavish, most ethereal jewel I’ve ever seen. So sublime, it must have been gifted by the gods themselves. For no object of such opulent divinity could have possibly originated from this realm.

It's captivating and enchanting, and after striding beside citizens with dirty, hole-ridden clothing, it's absolutely revolting.

Nauseated at the repugnant sight, I grimace and motion toward the blinding eyesore. “She sits in her beautiful castle, eating the richest foods and wearing the finest gowns, yet she does nothing to better her kingdom.”

An older man bumps my shoulder, followed by a mumbled apology as he speeds past with a small boy and girl. Their clothing is patched and worn but fortunately clean, and the man's face is lined in exhaustion as he hurriedly maneuvers his family through the foot traffic. A splash of color catches my eye, and I see three females oohing and ahhing over an extravagant bracelet, garbed in gowns better suited to a ballroom than a leisurely evening stroll. I consider the glaring differences between the gaggle of females and the human family as I watch the wealthy immortals gossip and laugh, while the man – along with his children – appear to be in need of a good meal and a decades-long nap.

“When I saw her looking down her nose at the very same people she's meant to serve and protect, while they worship her as if she was a goddess, as if she is entitled to their reverence all because she wears a crown on her head…” My lips tighten. “I couldn't submit to someone like that. Even if it was only an act.”

Tristan blows out an exasperated breath. “Of course you couldn't.”

Fisting my hands at my sides, I grit my teeth. “It's not right, Tristan.”

“I know,” he says with a gentle smile. A street light flares with Gods Light as we pass Rory's Swords and Daggers, casting the swirls on Tristans’s cheek in a silverish light. “I know it's unlike you to stand by if you see others being mistreated. Or to remain silent otherwise.”

I cringe at his teasing, recalling my slip of the tongue to Darius at Aurora's shop, and of course, the more dire of issues. “I may have made a small mistake,” I admit sheepishly.

“A small mistake?” Tristan drawls.

“Very small. Tiny.” I pinch my fingers together. “Practically nonexistent.”

Tristan eyes me warily. “What is this nonexistent mistake you think you made?”

I glance to my sides, searching for anyone near enough to overhear our discussion, but the number of citizens traveling by foot have depleted dramatically. The remaining walkers are now no longer clumped together, but spread out as their fellow travelers arrive at their nightly destinations, conveniently out of earshot.

I feel Tristan branding me with his gaze and clear my throat, feeling as if a stone has lodged itself there. “I formed a bond with Darius.”

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