Page 153 of The Mad King and the False Queen

Heat rushed through her body, her blood pulsing. “What’s stopping you?”

“I am a king, and I respect your kingdom’s traditions,” he said. “Besides, your mother is watching.”

She laughed. “If she wasn’t?”

“You’ll find out tonight when I have you all to myself.”

The music shifted into another tune, and a guard made an announcement as they brought out the table for the married couple, raised on a platform so they would be higher than everyone in attendance. Claude held out his hand to Dagmara, and she accepted it. He led the way over to the table, Sacha, Pierre, and Martine falling into step around them to separate them from the guests.

“Forgive me, your Majesty,” Pierre whispered. “There is something you should see.”

“Right now?”

“Yes, it’s about…” he hesitated, “it’s important.”

“Alright,” Claude said.

Claude led Dagmara to the front, stepping up on the riser their table was on, and pulled out her seat. As she sat, he laid a finger under her chin and lifted her head to him. “I’ll only be a moment.”

“Is everything alright?”

“I don’t know. Maybe the other governors are questioning why Lionel isn’t here. I’m hoping it has nothing to do with the Celesta.”

Then Claude proceeded up the staircase, flanked by Pierre and Sacha. He exited the room, leaving Dagmara by herself.

“You can eat,” Dagmara told Martine, feeling her presence.

“I’ll eat later,” Martine replied, her hands behind her back as she surveyed the crowd.

Dagmara, on the other hand, wouldn’t risk eating too much. If she ate too big of a meal, she would become fatigued. Another symptom of her unknown condition.

Everyone settled for the dinner, taking a seat at the banquet tables. There was a special table reserved in the back for Queen Bernadette.

Briefly, Dagmara caught Sabien’s eye as he sauntered across the back of the room, whispering to each guard he passed. He maintained an attentive gaze on the crowd, taking a post by the grand windows. The rain pelted the glass behind him, night finally falling. He looked up at Dagmara, and she quickly averted her gaze.

She saw a bowl of salt already at her table, and she once more felt at peace. She knew Claude had put it there.

“To our new queen!” a voice rang through the room. It was from Madame Annette. She was standing in the aisle, not seated at a table.

“We are grateful for the union between Ilusauri and Azurem, and we are glad to have another guardian on the throne to protect us.” Her voice was sweet but filled with contempt. “We would love nothing more than to see your power in action.”

Ice coursed through Dagmara’s veins. Two guards brought out a large bowl of water and set it down at her table. They bowed before walking away.

“What is this?” Dagmara asked, shooting a glance at Annette. She tried to keep her voice even, but was keenly aware that everyone’s eyes were on her.

“If you truly are the Princess of Azurem, you wouldn’t mind showing us a bit of your magic? Like you did at your coronation, right?” Annette’s eyebrows were raised on her forehead. It was evident she no longer believed that Dagmara was the true princess, if she ever had believed it. “Wouldn’t we all like to see?” She addressed the crowd.

A thunderous round of applause echoed through the room.

Everyone applauded except Queen Bernadette, who inched forward in her chair, prepared to intervene.

But Dagmara could do this. She remembered the way the magic had coursed through her body when she healed Claude in Sailonne.

“Alright,” Dagmara announced, standing from her chair. She refocused her attention on the bowl of water as the room fell completely silent. She tried to draw from within, her gaze set on the water. Something was different about her. She had felt it in Sailonne. She had healed Claude.

She had magic.

Time seemed to lengthen as she waited to feel something. She waited for the magic to tingle at her fingertips as it had before, but nothing came. A dead space seemed to fill through the room as the time dragged on, everyone waiting.

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