Page 62 of Crown of Slumber

I was hoping she would elaborate, but her expression closed off, her eyes dimming, and I knew that was the end of our conversation. At any rate, we were nearing the outer walls of the palace, and her grip on her reins had gone so tight her knuckles turned white. I wasn’t even sure if she noticed the reaction.

I would be getting nothing from her now. Her mind was on whatever incident had occurred the last time she’d been in this court. Perhaps behind these very palace walls.

A conflicting surge of emotions swept over me—a mixture of sympathy and protectiveness, the urge to shield her from whatever she was hiding from; but at the same time, annoyance and rage rose up as well. I could not defend her if I didn’t know what the threat was. If our plan was to work, I needed to know this secret.

Because I was certain there were people in the palace who knew it already.

I gritted my teeth in frustration. This princess was infuriating. And she accused me of being selfish, of needlessly creating a divide between our kingdoms? How were we supposed to be allies when she kept herself closed off like this?

A darker, more disturbing thought slithered into my mind. What if this was similar to what had happened with the witches? I wasn’t fully aware of the situation, but I could make assumptions. She had dabbled in a darker power, trying to access her magic. It had gone badly. Judging by what she’d done to the goblins, it wasn’t hard to picture the carnage.

Had she caused something similar here in the Autumn Court? Was that why she was keeping it a secret—because she was ashamed?

But no. If that were the case, we would have been escorted with a heavy guard. Perhaps even arrested on the spot.

She had said her father had smoothed things over. Exactly how had he done that?

The questions rattled around in my head as the blinding sun beat down on me from the castle’s reflection. It was lower in the sky now, so it wasn’t a direct beam of light shining in my eyes. In fact, the amber and fuchsia hues of the setting sun cast a brilliant glow on the palace walls, making it look like a kaleidoscope of flames.

I sucked in a breath, and Aurelia chuckled next to me.

“Yes, that is the appeal,” she said softly. Her tone was a mixture of wistfulness and bitterness. “No one can resist the glowing palace of the Autumn Court.”

My brows knitted together as I took in the hardening of her expression. Before I could speak, a loud, metallic creak split the air, and the gates to the outer wall slid open to allow us in.

I straightened in my saddle and put my court mask into place; a look of smugness and superiority. The expression that reminded Aurelia how much she hated me.

But it was who everyone expected me to be. Who Aurelia expected me to be. And it was my armor.

A few guards greeted us at the gate and escorted us through the courtyard. I had visited the Autumn Court a handful of times, but always after sundown because of the customs of the Night Fae. Now, the cream-colored walkways and vibrant red-leafed trees stood out to me. So blindingly bright and colorful compared to the dark gleam of the Midnight Court.

A stable boy tended to our horses, and I resisted the urge to stretch my legs upon dismounting. Gods, I was so sore. But I kept my armor in place, with my spine rigid and my expression unchanged. I linked Aurelia’s arm in mine as we climbed the steps to the entrance doors. Her hand was trembling, and I gave it a squeeze.

“You are a firebird,” I whispered to her. “Magnificent and fierce. No one will quell your flame.”

Her gaze slid to mine, surprise and awareness flickering in her eyes for a brief moment, reminding me of the determined creature that she was.

I only hoped she reminded herself of it as well.

This wretched court seemed to remind her only of her weaknesses.

Aurelia remained poised and stiff alongside me, but her steps were sure and steady. Her chin lifted, and a cold detachment settled in her gaze. She, too, was wearing a mask. And I was surprised and alarmed at how easily I could see through it.

How had we become so close that I could tell when she donned a false persona? I wouldn’t even call us friends, and yet the idea of seeing through her facade felt… intimate.

The guards led us through a spotless marble hallway lined with paintings of droll bearded kings from the past. Our footsteps echoed along with the clanging of the metal swords of the guards.

We reached the throne room, also flanked by guards, and the doors were thrown open for us. I took a deep breath and squeezed Aurelia’s hand once more before we strode inside.

An entourage greeted us. Two rows of armed soldiers created an aisle that led to the dais in front of the stained glass windows, upon which rested three thrones occupied by the royal family. A crowd of nobles filled the space in front of the dais, every pair of eyes fixed on us.

My smirk widened. I did love a captive audience.

The man sitting in the middle throne—the largest of the three—had dark blond hair, a goatee, and a hooked nose. His black eyes were fixed on Aurelia with a hunger that made me clutch her arm more tightly against me. His gleaming gold crown could only mean one thing: he was the king.

He must have recently been coronated. Last I’d been here, the Autumn King had been a white-haired codger who had managed to live a decade longer than anyone expected.

The new king turned and whispered something to the woman sitting on the throne next to him—his mother, I presumed. She hadgraying brown hair, but her blue eyes were cold as they surveyed us.

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