Page 193 of The Dawn of the Cursed Queen

I didn’t say anything, but I did glance toward Isaiah again, watching as he disappeared into the crowd with Imogen obediently following.

A trumpet sounded behind us, startling the crowd, and we all stopped speaking at once. One by one, we turned, following the noise as the doors were pushed further open. Kaden placed a hand on my elbow, moving us back into the masses that separated on two sides. He pushed me half-behind him, and I peered around his massive frame.

“I can’t see—”

He shushed me, and my brows furrowed. What the hell?

“Is it Nismera?”

He shook his head, watching the door. “No, worse.”

As if on cue, soldiers marched through the door in twos. Their pearlescent armor was gorgeous, shimmering in the light. Intricate scrolling designs were engraved along the arms and legs, and a massive winged creature was emblazoned across the chest.

They looked like angels. Powerful, majestic angels. Their helmets were tall, sitting atop their heads in curving lines, with a pair of wings mimicking the flaring from their backs. Everyone watched as they filed into the room, all carrying boxes of various sizes. A few of the lids were half-open, and I caught the gleam of jewels as they passed.

My hand tightened against Kaden’s side as the crowd whispered. I caught the eye of a man across the way, his gaze blazing into mine. The ties and buttons across his jacket did nothing to hide the lean, muscled form beneath. Dark hair curled around his ears and fell across his forehead. I had the strangest sensation of familiarity as he stared at me. He smiled, and it was a beautiful contrast to the dark stubble covering his jaw. Another set of winged guards walked between us, and when they passed, the man was gone.

My gaze roamed, searching the crowd for him, but everything in me paused when a woman who would put the models of Onuna to shame entered with a man at her side, their wings tucked against their backs. I knew him. Well, I didn’t know him, but I’d seen him here before. Ennas. Vincent had said he was the brother to a powerful sister. Only she wasn’t just powerful. No, given the crown she wore, she was a queen. No one so much as whispered as they entered.

The crowd watched her as if afraid to look away. Her fitted white gown trailed behind her, the skirt split to allow her long pale legs to move freely. As she passed, the spell seemed to break, and everyone resumed their chattering and laughing.

I pushed past Kaden, intending to follow after her, but I only saw the tips of wings through the crowd as they strode toward the back of the massive room.

“Who was that?” I asked, returning to Kaden’s side.

Kaden seemed relaxed as always, but I noticed that he, too, tracked their retreating forms. “The Queen of Trugarum. Her name is Milani.”

“You say that as if it’s a curse. She’s beautiful. Her wings look so soft.”

Kaden chuckled darkly. “Beautiful but deadly. I’d dare you to touch them. They may look like feathers, but they are sharper than any blade.”

“Is she important? I didn’t see anyone else enter like that.”

“Very,” Kaden whispered. “She owns the southern realm and all its territories. Her armada is one of Nismera’s strongest forces.”

“How?” I gaped at him. “I assumed Nismera wouldn’t want anyone with equal power.”

“Equal power alliances mean no one would ever dream of testing you,” Kaden said.

My eyes widened as I glanced toward the corridor at the back of the room where they had disappeared.

KADEN AND I MINGLED, MAKING OUR WAY AROUND THE ROOM. TABLES were artfully arranged throughout, like small islands in the sea of people. Large sparkling chandeliers hung from every part of the grand ceiling, and I hadn’t noticed until I glanced up how much they resembled starlight.

We reached another soaring doorway, and I paused, drawn by the sound of music. A man stood alone on a raised stage, swirling pale lines running over his exposed skin as he sang. They changed colors and patterns, keeping time with the music. His fingers flew over the strings of the instrument he held as he played a passionate ballad. The crowd gathered at his feet, mesmerized by his song. No one seemed to notice the silver chains wrapped around his ankles nor the guards stationed at the sides of the stage.

“He’s a muse,” Kaden whispered near my ear. “A gift from a neighboring queen as penance. In return, Nismera spared her kingdom.”

“A muse?” I felt my face pale. “She would trade a muse for protection?”

“You’d be surprised. There is no being more depraved and heartless than a leader protecting the people they love.”

I swallowed the uneasiness in my gut as I watched the muse. He had to be no more than twenty, beautiful in the way of the gods, with shaggy dark hair. He wasn’t ghastly thin, which meant she kept him fed, but I could see the trapped pain in his soft brown eyes.

“I think he is the last left,” Kaden said it so calmly as he placed his hand on my lower back and steered me away.

“His voice is—”

“Intoxicating? Mesmerizing? It should be. He inspires those feelings.”

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