Page 76 of Savagely Mated

“I like the red,” I say, pointing to another gown that at least has a lower neckline.

“I am sure you do, but you have enough fire without dressing in red as well. Trust me. You want the green.”

There is a certain urgency in her voice that bothers me. Everyone is being so intense right now. I want to run away, but even I am not the type to shun a royal summons. That would put me at odds with the one authority who can be felt everywhere in the city. There is a limit to my rebellion… I think?

CHAPTER 21

Darcy

I’ve never been to the palace before. Each class usually goes every year, but I’ve always been pulled out of the trip for one reason or other. I’ve usually done something bad and been put on detention and restrictions.

So this is my first time actually being taken through the gates. The entire place is cut from marble, which does not come from around Eclipse. Instead, it is floated down the river from further upstream, where stone is better, I guess.

Gold and white marble are quite striking complements to one another, and they are everywhere. If something is not marble, it is gold. If it is not gold, it is marble. All of this is punctuated by large (marble of course) edged areas where trees and ferns and things that climb are grown in such a way to further increase the beauty of the place.

The ground we walk on is made of other kinds of stone all cut and polished to create pretty geometric repeating patterns.

“Wow,” I say, thoroughly impressed. “This place is nice.”

“Quiet,” Madame Kier says. “Speak as little as possible. We are going to try to keep you out of the king’s sight.”

“But he asked to see me?”

“Yes. I am hoping he has forgotten.”

I look at her, frowning slightly in confusion. “I’m not very forgettable,” I say.

“I know, and therein lies the problem,” she replies. “If you must speak…”

I wait for her to tell me to speak politely.

“Be yourself,” she says. “Be as much of yourself as you are capable of being. Display everything you have ever been censured or chastised for.”

“This really feels like very bad advice. Are you trying to sabotage my audience with the king? Are you jealous or something?”

“No, foolish girl. I am trying to stop you from…”

I never find out how she might have finished that sentence because we are suddenly met by a courtier who attaches himself to us like a limpet.

“You must be Darcy,” he says. “What an honor for us. We’re all very excited to meet a wild female.”

“I’m not wild.”

“Well, you know, manner of speaking,” he beams. “Not raised in the palace, as is tradition.”

“It’s tradition to be raised in the… ow!”

My question gets cut off this time, because the director of the academy has just jabbed me very hard in the ribs, which happens to be the same place I hurt when I ended up in the bush a few days ago.

I fall silent, not wanting to make little pathetic puppy sounds in a place like this.

The palace is busy. I am used to a bit of bustle at the academy, but there are hundreds of people milling about here, all wearing the finest clothes—nothing like what gets worn in the city either.

The green gown actually fits in very well here. Ladies swoop back and forth wearing dresses with skirts some twice as wide as mine. It’s really more like being in a jungle than I imagined, with all the plants and the people in their birdlike finery.

I always imagined the palace to be a very wolf-y place, given that the king is renowned to be a shifter, and all his mates are shifters too. But this place is much more Versailles than it is wolf den.

We are led through what feels like endless courtyards of various shapes and sizes. Some of them have buildings leading off them, others are bounded by walls.

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