Page 32 of Destroyer

Then, spinning Ru around in her chair without preamble, fully in her element, the maid began her work on Ru’s face. Ru had never seen so many creams, powders, and tinctures — all for the purpose of making a face look presentable. By the time the maid was finished, and Ru was brave enough to look in the mirror once again, she was amazed. She actually looked human again.Betterthan human in fact, with only her bloodshot eyes a reminder that she had been through her own version of hell in the past few days.

“You’re incredible,” Ru breathed, admiring herself in the mirror from every angle. She looked like a proper courtier, no longer a rough and tumble academic. “What’s your name?”

The maid blushed. “Pearl,” she said softly.

“Pearl, you are a wonder.”

The lady’s maid continued to amaze when she left the room for a moment and came back toting a selection of fine gowns. She instructed Ru to choose one as quickly as she could, or Sybeth, she warned, would come bursting in while Ru was in a state of dishabille.

So Ru chose the dress that reminded her most of the Tower: a deep green silk affair with long sleeves that puffed at the shoulders, a low-cut square collar, and a row of gold buttons leading down the front of the bodice.

It wasn’t anything special, not quite fit for a ball, but it was perfectly adequate for an academic. And after being so long in the field wearing a shirt and trousers, the feeling of being in a gown again, her back held straight by a firmly boned corset, gave Ru a much-needed boost in confidence.

Moments after Pearl finished picking the last bits of lint from Ru’s dress and making sure her hair was perfectly in place, Sybeth knocked thunderingly at the door and burst in before Pearl or Ru could open it, the tassels on her epaulets swinging.

“Miss Delara, are you ready?”

Ru knew it was a rhetorical question, but nodded anyway.

“Bring the artifact,” Sybeth ordered. Her demeanor had become rock-hard since they arrived at the palace, and now that Ru thought about it, the riders had all been more distant on the ride back to Mirith.

She supposed she would have distanced herself from Ruellian Delara too if she could.

Swept up in a sudden rush of loneliness, Ru gathered the artifact in her arms and followed Sybeth out into the hall.

She wasn’t at all prepared for what she saw there.

Fen stood waiting, arms casually folded across his chest. She almost didn’t recognize him at first. He was no longer the scruffy wanderer who had come across her in the wilds. He still wore his leather doublet and boots, now wiped clean and polished. His slightly worn black shirt had been replaced by a soft cream one, its collar brushing against his stubbled jaw, open to the throat. His black hair was still unruly, apparently its only state, but had been washed and shone like a raven’s wings in the corridor’s many lamps and chandeliers.

He looked so regal he might have been a lord about to go hunting, or an aristocrat's first son visiting the palace in search of a wife. But even with clean clothes and hair, something about him still seemed wild, unfettered. As if he didn’t quite belong. The sight of him stopped Ru in her tracks.

When he saw her staring, his eyebrows raised slightly, and a smile lit his face.

Ru, immediately self-conscious of her gawking, smiled shyly back before catching herself. She shouldn’t allow herself to feel anything for Fen, least of all attraction. He wouldn’t be around for long, and there were bigger things that required her full attention.

“Stop dawdling,” said Sybeth, waving them along. “You can stare at each other later. The Lady Regent awaits.”

CHAPTER11

Audiences with Regent Sigrun were usually more commotion than substance, affairs with too much pomp and not very much purpose. At least, that was what Ru’s brother had told her once, deep in his wine. But as Ru and Fen were led into the throne room, she quickly became overwhelmed by the grandeur of it all and found it impossible not to be impressed.

The room itself was cavernous, hung with red and gold banners, its ceiling so high Ru would have had to tilt her head back to see it. Tall windows on either side let in the summer sun, painting the marble floors with stripes of bright light. Columns lined the length of the room, partially concealing shadowed alcoves, areas where courtiers could stand and converse without attracting eavesdroppers.

Except that now, every eye in the room roved toward their small party, toward her.

The throne room was packed to the brim with people of all sorts. Courtiers, guards, footmen and servants, aristocrats, scientists, musicians, artists, and anyone to whom the regency took a liking. It was important to the Lady Regent to keep the palace lively, to ensure that it was a place of art and science, a cultural touchpoint for the kingdom.

Ever since the neighboring kingdom of Mekya’s great boom of technological and cultural advancement over a century ago, Mirith had followed closely behind. And while she only held the throne in lieu of a blood heir to the monarchy, Regent Sigrun had stepped eagerly into the shoes of Navenie's ruler, ensuring that the kingdom’s advancement continued to grow.

Ru glanced around, hoping for a glimpse of her brother, but knew it would be hard to recognize him in the throng. As she scanned the crowd, she noticed several oddly dressed men and women in small clusters about the room. They were dressed all in white with gold chain belts, their only adornments. They wore white caps over close-shorn hair, and seemed to whisper and mutter animatedly to one another without interacting with anyone else in the room.

She wondered who they could be. There was an air of religion about them, but they didn’t belong to any church she recognized. As far as she knew, religious leaders and groups weren’t usually invited to the palace anyway; they generally preferred to hold their own sovereignty at their places of worship, and had little interest in the political affairs of Navenie.

But there wasn’t time to ruminate over it. As Sybeth led them forward, those gathered in the throne room began to quiet gradually. Raucous conversation and laughter faded to discreet murmurs as they watched the procession of three.

Word must have spread quickly through the palace, maybe the whole of Mirith, of what had happened at the Shattered City. Even if the details weren’t known, it was obvious to Ru that she and Fen were an intriguing arrival, and that everyone gathered in the throne room was eager to hear what they had to say.

“Welcome,” said Regent Sigrun, her voice carrying through the room. She motioned for the group to approach her.

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