Page 37 of Kill the Queens

"Mr. Copeland," she drew his name out slowly trying to gather an appropriate response, "has just put in a little bit more initiative in than the others and I suppose that should earn him to a second invitation."

"I will see that it's done."

Farah arched a brow as Ellowen remained seated instead of rising for the door. "Is there more that you wish to discuss?"

Her tawny skin flushed. "Actually yes."

The queen turned away from the fire that still picked away at that little box. The velvet green material of her dress stretched across her thighs as she pulled her legs up next to her.

"Out with it." Farah waved a demanding hand.

"I'm curious how you are fairing with the recent rumors."

Sienna. Right.Her crowning of a king and sudden retreat to the country side has certainly stirred up the gossip within her own castle walls.

Farah blinked, trying to keep her expression composed. She supposed she should be mourning her sister, they were blood after all. Yet a part of her still felt like all of her sisters had died before they took these crowns. Even her old self felt dead to Farah. They might technically be sisters now but the only thing that connected them was their joint rule over Pasia. And that meant very little more to Farah than choosing a husband. She didn't need anyone anymore. Didn't want them. The only one she could bring herself to care for was Ambrose and even she was not herself.

Ellowen continued. "People are speculating after what happened in Maipeg.”

Farah turned back to look at the fire. She didn't want to talk about Sienna.

"I just thought you'd want someone to talk to. With her marrying and leaving so quickly you must feel like you’ve losta sister. Though I know you are undoubtedly very strong, my Queen."

Gods…she was still talking.

"You're dismissed," Farah said, her voice devoid of all emotion.

Ellowen stood quietly, pushing the chair back up to the table. From the corner of the queen's eyes, she could tell the woman had given her another curtsey before heading back to the door. She paused when her fingertips brushed the bronze knob.

"If you ever feel like you need someone to talk to, I'm around."

"Even if I did want to talk, why would I talk toyou?" It was only then that Farah looked back at the woman. And that was only because she wanted to see the look on her face, the shine of hurt in her eyes.

Ellowen stood tall. "You only talk that way because you are hurt."

Farah did laugh then. A hearty chuckle that made her bed bounce with her. The queen wasn't some injured bird in need of being nursed back to health; she was a monster hell bent on taking from the world what it had taken from her.

When the laughter at the woman's stupidity stopped, Farah picked up her staff. "Leave." There wasn’t time given for Ellowen to follow the command before the queen’s magic was running through her.

The woman's eyes widened as an invisible force pulled open the door and pushed her out the other side. Her look of shock was the last thing Farah saw before the door slammed firmly in her face. The lock clicked into place.

Queen Farah considered closing all her curtains now and shutting herself up in her bed with a book to study or to use the empty space on her floor to push her body through workouts similar to what the guards endured, but then she caught sight ofthat damn box and the material that had almost completely been eaten away.

She hardly noticed the tingle of power as it raced through her veins. In an instant—one whoosh of air—the fire was out without even so much as smoke rising from its ashes. Silver glinted within the soot. Farah moved closer, eyes narrowing to tiny slits.

What was it?

The pointed tip of her heels met the firepit's edge. The dust of burnt logs was still warm, the shape of the box nothing but ashen walls surrounding one spec of silver. Gray clung to her fingertips as she picked the small object up. The silver was cold. Not just cold but freezing.

Her brows pinched together as she puzzled over what sort of object could remain chilled through the effects of fire raging all around it. Or maybe her body was tricking her? Maybe it was actually burning her skin and it had crossed that line between hot and being so hot that your body suddenly recognized it as cold somehow.

A small pin sized object rolled into her palm as she straightened from her crouch. Not even the ashes clung to its form. Farah squinted. Was that…a tiny dagger?

She was able to pinch the small hilt between her fingertips. The sharpened tip bit into her other finger as she tested to see how sharp it may be. It seemed sharp enough to go right through her ear piercing.

Without thinking her hand was back in the ashes sorting through them to see if there was a second. Why give her one tiny dagger and not two? Surely, she had lost the other.

Confusion tinged with anger swelled inside the queen as her hands found nothing but the small metal hinges on the box. How absolutely absurd a gift!

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