Page 2 of The Dawn of the Cursed Queen

I swallowed, trying to hide my satisfaction. The east wing was far from her large rooms here on the west. Excitement thrilled through me that I’d at least have my own place.

“You will accompany the witch to and from her station.”

My excitement died.

“Pardon me, my liege?” I asked, trying to mask the bitterness I felt.

Nismera clamped the large, circular pin that held her half-cloak to her shoulder, her legless beasts engraved into the metal. “Which part was hard for you to understand?”

“The witch.”

“Camilla is a magnificent power source, my only one since Santiago proved useless. I need her to repair an ancient artifact of mine, but I do not trust her. You, I trust. You will accompany her to and from unless I need you, then I will ask the other guards. Your room shall be across from hers. I need to make sure she follows my rules. Too much freedom given to any beast, and they assume they can roam freely.” Her smile was as cold and empty as any abyss.

“Yes, my liege.” I forced a smile to match, even though I loathed this plan of hers.

Her hand dropped as she smiled at me. “Now go mingle with the other generals below. I need you to be cordial with your legion. I have other things I need to address.”

I simply nodded, and she left the room.

MY BOOTS ECHOED OFF THE CREAM AND GOLD STONE FLOORING, TINY specks dancing beneath my feet as I walked. It was a sign of royalty, something this whole city reeked of. Nismera was king of all twelve realms now and wanted to make sure everyone knew it. As I walked out of her chamber and toward the lower foyer, I was met with bowing and downcast eyes. The wardrobe assigned to me had too many tassels and chains, and I did not care for any of it. Nismera loved power displays. She always had. Power was all that mattered to her. Every piece of furniture and glass column was hand-crafted and placed how she liked it. All of it was as gaudy and wild as she was.

Laughter and hollering sped down the long, wide corridor, reminding me of the family I had condemned. I moved toward it, my chest clenching.

I pushed the large, thick, chiseled doors open, the music and laughter dying. All eyes shifted my way. The hall was almost as large as the main entranceway, with long wooden tables hugging the walls. There were chairs hidden in almost every corner and a staircase lined with jewel-encrusted tapestries.

A long table held a feast. Battered and dirty generals sat in various spots. Some watched me with food hanging out of their mouths, others with cups held to their lips, forgetting to swallow. They stared at me with two sets of eyes, others with four or more. Some had tentacles where arms and legs should be, and others with wings, large and thick, jutting from their backs. I didn’t see any of Grimlock’s reptilian horde, but I assumed they wanted answers on why their general went with Nismera and Isaiah and did not return.

A throat cleared as a burly troll, cloaked in furs and leathers, stood and raised a glass the size of my head. “Welcome, our High Guard of the legion, Vincent.”

My lip curled at the loud, boisterous display, my ears ringing as everyone cheered. The troll who shouted moved from the back of the room, making his way to me before clasping a hand on my shoulder and shoving the massive drink into my hands.

“Come, sit with us.”

“Who are you?” I asked, brushing his hand off.

“My name is Tedar, Commander of the Eighth Legion.”

Maybe it wasn’t just generals in here.

He led me toward a large seating area in a dim corner of the room. I went because I had nowhere else to go. The chair he plopped into fit him, but its match almost swallowed me whole. The liquid in my glass sloshed to the side, spilling some on my hand. I leaned forward and placed it on the center of the table before wiping my hand on my pants and leaning back. Laughter and chatter filled the room once more as Tedar leaned toward me.

“You’re a legend now, you know that? Every whisper among realms speaks of what you did, and now you are High Guard?” He whistled between thick teeth. “You’re above every commander and general now. They’ll hate it.”

“You don’t.”

“Gods, no. There are only six High Guards now, including her brothers, so less responsibility for me. You and your legion will always go first into battle now.”

My brows lifted. “Battle? I don’t think so. I think we will just follow orders.”

“Say what you want, but the sky bleeds silver now. The World Ender is dead, and The Hand of Rashearim now walks around blindly, listening to every demand like a whipped hound. There are, and will always be, those who jump at the bit when the largest power player exits the field, and guess who just did?”

I swallowed, trepidation burning in my throat. He was so callous, so joyful for what I did, and I felt grimier than sludge upon a boot. I reminded myself that I had no choice. He did not know my will was Nismera’s will. I shook my head as Tedar rambled on.

“. . . I have to say it’s such a relief. No one ever thought he’d die. That’s gotta feel amazing for you. You did it. You helped.”

My stomach rolled. I had avoided looking toward the sky since then, especially at night when his power seemed to mock me, begging for answers. My chest tightened, and the air suddenly became far too tight.

“I serve my king now, as she wishes. Nothing in the world has the power to rival Nismera now,” I repeated.

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