Page 51 of Once the Skies Fade

“I see you’ve made a friend,” a pinched voice said. It belonged to a rail-thin female whose nose was as narrow as her hips—and likely her mind, too, by the disdain simmering in her gray eyes. She extended a delicate hand, which looked like it might disintegrate if I wasn’t careful. Accepting it, I barely squeezed as she offered her name.

“I’m Ursula.”

“Matthias,” I said in turn.

“Ah, the famed general from Emeryn who saved our beloved queen from the forest,” she said, lifting her sharp chin evenhigher. I bit down on the inside of my lip to keep from scoffing at her claim. She had all but hissed the wordbeloved, making it plain she held Calla in as much esteem as Graham held me. Yet it was her mention of the queen’s rescue that gave me pause. Either the Assembly member did not know of the forest’s protection of the royal bloodline, or she was baiting me into revealing what I knew about those enchanted woods.

Meddling politicians, indeed.

Shrugging, I swiveled my attention to a server passing by and plucked two long-stemmed glasses from their tray. The Assembly member accepted the drink I proffered, and tipped it slightly toward me in a silent salute before taking a shallow sip. I might have downed mine in one gulp had the female not been staring at me so hawkishly, but instead I simply held it in my hand, swirling it so it caught and reflected the light from the hundreds of candles hovering above in the chandelier.

“So, is the Assembly making any wagers?” I asked, casually, and finally lifted the glass to my lips as I awaited her response.

I half-expected her to balk at the insinuation, but instead the female laughed, or more accurately, cackled.

“Why do you ask, general?” she asked, her lip curling into a sinister smile.

“Just making conversation,” I said.

“Of course,” she breathed, and then, dipping her chin, she tapped her not-yet-empty glass against mine. “Do excuse me, general, I have other competitors to meet. Good luck in the games. And don’t worry about Graham. The boy is merely jealous.”

I watched Ursula retreat, mulling over that bit of information briefly before tucking it into the back of my mind for future use. Free from her scrutiny, I lifted my glass to my lips again and started to tip my head back to finish off the remaining wine, when a door at the far end of the room opened.

The queen—dressed in a blood-red gown that accentuated her soft curves and paid homage to her deadly reputation—stepped into the room and froze. Her eyes found mine at once, her disapproval undeniable from where I stood, and for the briefest of moments, for the first time in ages, my confidence wavered.

Chapter 25

Calla

Of the dozens of faces staring at me, why was his the one to catch my attention first? My heart—its bruised, broken pieces held together by sheer will alone—plummeted. With each step into the ballroom, I felt myself trampling it, stomping on it, bruising it and battering it further.

All the while, I held Matthias’s stare, refusing to be the first to look away and reveal my discomfort—to him, and to everyone gathered. Drawing in a long, steadying breath, I forced my features to relax and pushed the tension down into my chest where it was easier to conceal, though more painful to bear.

Behind me, Isa followed with her gentle, reassuring hand resting on the middle of my back, grounding me.

“Are you okay?” she whispered, and I offered the tiniest of nods, her words helping to snap my attention away from the Emerynian general.

To my left, musicians were settled in their seats, their instruments resting in their laps. Slowing my gait, I shifted my chin over my shoulder, and Isa stepped up beside me.

“I thought this was just dinner. Who invited the musicians?” I asked.

“It was the Assembly’s idea,” Isa explained. “A last-minute suggestion from this morning.”

“Who specifically?”

“Warren and Ursula,” she said, and I had to purse my lips to keep from sneering. Had it been any other member, I might not have minded, but these two had been a thorn in my backside since my parents’ deaths. Nothing they did was without an agenda. Nothing they did was innocent.

“You should have asked me,” I said. In the corner, a few of the Assembly huddled together. One, Fern, lifted her glass toward me in greeting. I nodded slowly and tried to smile, sure I was not fooling anyone here.

“Apologies, Calla. Can I get you a glass of wine before we eat?”

“Not yet,” I muttered and stopped abruptly. I was now in the middle of the open space, on display for a dozen would-be-kings and half as many politicians who didn’t want me as their queen.

Lifting my chin, I counted my breath silently to myself to steady my nerves. My palms itched at my sides as my shadows stirred, and I had to fist the fabric of my dress to quiet them.

“Welcome, all of you,” I said, well aware that my icy tone was at odds with my words not that anyone here expected warm hospitality from me, the shadow queen who killed her own people without warning. “General Marlowe will be briefing you all on the games, the rules, and the first trial, but first, let’s eat.”

Nobody moved.

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