Page 14 of The Rose in the Shadows

Clayton’s gaze landed on the glittering mess I had disapproved of the moment I saw it. Of course, that’s the one he would choose.

“That one,” he announced to Iris, pointing towards it. “Get her ready. I’ll be back to collect her this afternoon.”

I frowned once more, but Iris only nodded at him as he began to take his leave, only to stop shortly at the door.

He sighed. “I need her to look impressive. Promissa is watching.”

“Yes, your grace,” Iris said, bowing slightly. I could only stare in astonishment. How quickly their relationship turned when official business was at hand.

When she turned to gather up the dress I had been ordered to play princess in, she didn’t meet my gaze.

Hours later, I stood being primped and poked by the ladies assigned to help me. I had to bite my cheek to hold back my frustration when I looked at my reflection. The ballgown was ostentatious at best, atrocious in truth. The neckline stretched across my chest, exposing my collarbone and the Mark of Hyrax. Undoubtedly, the Dragon and his son would be pleased with that fact—another way to show off their new pet.

It took two servants to help tie the corset, one to hold me steady and one to yank the ties so tight I was sure I would faint from loss of oxygen. They’d strapped three-inch heeled shoes onto my feet to keep me from tripping on the long skirts as I walked, but they just made me feel even more uneasy on my feet. There was no guarantee that I wouldn’t end up on the floor the second I tried to walk without help. The gown stretched out nearly four feet behind me in folds and ripples of tulle. Loose sleeves hung from my shoulders to the ground.

The gown’s silhouette was enough to make me cringe, but the embellishments were the worst. As I moved, the black fabric would shift and begin to shimmer under the light. Swirling appliques covered nearly every inch with colors of silver and navy blue. It was a contradiction in every way. It was dark and yet beautiful. Delicate in its details yet bold in its completion.

Iris had looked at it on me and decreed it was the perfect dress for the last Descendant of Hyrax, God of the Dead.

I hated it.

And if the dress wasn’t enough, Iris and the ladies set to work on my hair and face. They first tied my golden hair awayfrom my face in elaborate curls and braids before filling it with flowers and a crown of silver ivy leaves. Then they darkened my eyelids and splattered rouge on my cheeks. Iris lined my lips in shades of peach with a delicate hand, her face stern and her eyes unseeing.

“You’ll need to do something about that sour face,” she remarked quietly, wiping her hands and dismissing the ladies. They bowed and exited the room silently.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I lied, my lips still pursed in frustration.

She tossed the towel carelessly and grabbed my hands so suddenly that I almost jumped away. “Thea.”

She said the new nickname so desperately that my stomach somersaulted with concern.

“We all have roles to play. And right now, yours is to do what they tell you. So please, just smile, stand tall, and read the damn speech.”

I was quiet for a moment as her eyes implored me for submission.

“Or what?” I whispered.

She didn’t have time to answer before Dimitri opened the door and announced it was time for us to leave.

Chapter Four

Iris hadn’t been permitted to accompany us, so Dimitri and I walked silently through the palace halls to where Clayton waited for me. The castle was suspiciously quiet. I scanned each hall and passage we walked, but no soul was in sight. No court ladies were fanning themselves as they glanced over at each other, no men were standing and speaking about politics and war. No one whispered about me or my heritage. The only sound echoing around us was the click of my heels against the marble floor.

“They’re required to attend palace briefings,” Dimitri said softly beside me, seeming to understand where my thoughts were. “Everyone will wait for you in the gardens.”

“Great,” I whispered, the thought accidentally escaping my mouth.

He cleared his throat as we climbed an elaborate spiral staircase decorated with the emblems of Zion. This floor must bereserved for the Dragon, I realized as my fingers dared to slide against a banister carved to look like scales.

“Stand tall, my lady,” Dimitri suggested. “You slouch when you walk, like a child. Today you must be unafraid. Today, you must carry with you the strength of your God.”

“Hyrax?” I asked, peering at him from the corner of my eye.

Dimitri’s gaze was fixed firmly ahead, his hands folded behind him. “Of course, my lady.”

Clayton waited for us at the top of the stairs. He thanked Dimitri, and the larger man stepped behind us. Clayton took appraisal of me slowly, his gaze trailing from head to toe, leaving a trail of awareness across my skin.

“Should I spin for you?” I mumbled under my breath.

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