Page 105 of A Reign of Roses
Ethera was clearly a queen who likedthings.Aside from the enormous tree of books, couch, and crackling ornate fireplace, the parlor was stuffed with girlish curiosities. Porcelain cake stands, birdcages, dice, candleholders without candles, vases bare of flowers. Peculiar feminine oddities were crammed into every nook and cranny.
None stranger than the shiny metal instrument in the corner that spouted music with no player. The machine reminded me of the rounded maw of a clam or a blooming flower. Waxy vibrating tunes emanated, and I knew it to be one of the strange inventions the north of Rose was so famous for.
The entire room reminded me of what a very rich person who’d never stepped foot into nature would guess spring looked like.
And when Ethera waltzed in, I decided my assessment was spot-on.
“Greeting, darlings, greetings!” she sang, weaving through the room to join us, wine-colored hair swaying as she moved. Her lithe body was surprisingly curvy—perky, ample chest, tight apple-shaped bottom. I averted my eyes, feeling bizarrely like a man the way I’d ogled her. She was hardnotto look at. Her long, slinky pink dress was skintight and revealing but deceptively casual. It was like someone had lengthened my silk nightdresses and covered the bottom in bright, rosy feathers. The gauzy matching robe practically floated behind her as she waltzed to us on satin, heeled slippers.
She’d paired the ensemble with mouthwatering, colorful gems—the holy rose quartz of her kingdom’s namesake looped around her neck, bright green topaz and iridescent opal hanging from her ears. The most glittering of all, her red-painted, dazzling smile.
The woman wasenchanting.
All four of us stood out of courtesy as she drew near, and sheswatted her hands at us like we were fat houseflies, her feathered sleeves swaying. “Oh, do desist, lovies. Lest you make me feel tremendously old.”
Her voice surprised me. Briar was hundreds of years old, Kane and Griffin as well, but their mannerisms, their speech…they had maintained a youthfulness—a modernity. Their slowed aging meant they didn’t just appear younger, theywere.
But the way Ethera spoke—
She only looked about thirty or so, but if my math wasn’t terrifically off base—she’d won her civil war with Aleksander’s help just a year or so after Kane first arrived in Onyx, and she’d been thirty-one then…By my count, the young, jaw-droppingly beautiful queen with the pouty full lips and wild teal eyes was…over eighty.
“Seems it’s the blood oath that keeps her so young.”
“And so fucking crazy.”
I shivered. Is that why she was mad? Because she’d not aged the way humans were supposed to? Unlike Briar or Kane, was there a crinkled, hobbling eighty-year-old woman trapped inside that flawless body?
“Your Majesty…your collection”—Mari gestured to the books wreathing the elm behind the queen—“it’s exceptional.”
“Go! Go peek,” Ethera encouraged as she sat.
Ethera’s long nails were painted the color of her namesake—a bright scarlet—and she ran them through her silky hair absent-mindedly until she removed one hand and, with it, an entire fistful of maroon strands.
My brows shot up my face, and I worked to school them as the queen wiggled her fingers absently and allowed the entire clump to drift to the floor.
I glanced sidelong to see if Mari, too, had witnessed the strangeoccurrence, but she’d already bounded across the room, drawn to the towering tree of vibrant books like a bee to honey.
“Find me something suitable to peruse amid all that arboreous hodgepodge, will you?” Ethera asked.
“Crafted in Garnet?” Kane asked, his gaze still roving the shelves Mari examined.
Ethera grinned broadly. Her unblinking eyes turned my stomach. “I trade with all lands, my dear. All the clever items conceived of within my kingdom are of value someplace.” Ethera whirled in her chair until her eyes landed on the metal mechanism still pumping out a twangy melody atop them. “Like that marvelous machine, over there, we’ve dubbed amelograph. My citizens are absolutelybesottedwith the doohickey. If you have a trinket of interest for me, perhaps your kingdom can be bestowed with them, too?”
“I’ll have to think on that,” Kane drawled.
Given Ethera’s penchant for innovation, her kingdom-wide trade network made sense. My eyes crawled across the room. What else did they have here in the north that my imagination couldn’t even fathom?
Surely the same upright bathing columns Citrine had. The ones that mimicked rain that Kane loved so much. And the book I’d read Mari when she’d been in a coma—A History of War in Rose—had spoken of wheels on thin carriages that only held one person, and using loud, repetitive sounds to communicate across long distances rather than sending ravens.
The queen clasped her hands together in anticipation as two handmaidens brought out our tea. The spread made my mouth water. Teapots and platters of spongy almond cakes and tarts piled high with cherries and currants. Sandwiches of radish and rye, mushrooms hollowed out and stuffed generously with herbs and some kind of soft cheese.
Mari found her way back to the table at the sight—the enormous tree of books would have to wait. Griffin stiffened as the food was laid before him, and while I raised a brow in silent question, I was answered only with a glare.
When none of us moved immediately for the food, the queen tutted, “Eat, eat. You’re all too thin.”
I did as I was told and piled my plate high with both savories and sweets. A handmaiden in pale pink poured a fragrant milky rooibos tea that swirled inside gilded porcelain cups for each of us.
“Queen Ethera,” Kane purred. “I wish we were here under less dire circumstances, but we’ve come today to ask for your help.”
