Page 66 of Tower of Tempest
The king and queen stood tall, the king in silver trousers and a buttoned tunic that matched his wings, the queen in a thick purple dress with long sleeves.
“Citizens of the sky court, thank you for coming on such short notice.” The queen’s voice rang out over the courtyard. “As many of you know, twenty-two years ago, our infant daughter went missing. Someone snuck into her room in the middle of the night and stole her from us. Over the years, many girls and women have been brought forward, some intending to trick us, others hoping they might, indeed, be our missing daughter. As time passed, we lost hope that she was still alive.”
“They have a daughter?” Driscoll whispered.
I supposed so. Now that I thought about it, I remembered something about that, about their daughter dying when she was a baby. It happened so long ago it wasn’t something mentioned often, especially in my court. Here it might have been more well known among the elementals.
The king grabbed the queen’s hand and gave her a slight nod and smile.
“Today I stand before you a woman reborn. I admit in the last few years as it became clearer that our daughter was not coming home, I lost my way. Retreated into myself. Lost my faith in Spirit Sky. But that faith has been renewed... because my daughter is finally home.”
Twenty-two years. That’s what she’d said. Twenty-two years.Driscoll, Leoni, and I all shot each other uneasy looks. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible.
No one spoke, everyone as still as the stones scattered across this grassy courtyard.
“I know her return will bring many questions,” the queen said, “and we hope to have more answers soon. But for now, rejoice that your princess is home. Our heir has returned, and with that, so has the future of the sky court. To celebrate, we will throw a ball. A masquerade to honor Spirit Sky.”
Historical texts talked often about the masquerade balls Spirit Sky was infamous for throwing at his castle, balls that often ended in debauchery and violence.
“Everyone in the sky court is invited to meet your new princess and to celebrate our very bright future.”
The courtyard erupted in chatter, an infectious energy thrumming through the people.
A ball. I turned to Leoni, and she threw her head back, tipping her chin toward the sky. “What now?” she asked.
As I had this entire journey, I let my instinct lead me. “I have to go to that ball.”
“Of course you do,” she said, voice dry as the desert.
That stopped me. Elementals began shuffling from the courtyard, streaming past us, voices ringing out in excitement as they talked about the princess, theorized who she could be. Something I very much wanted to know myself.
My eyes narrowed. “You’re not going to try and stop me? Is this some kind of trick? Are you about to knock me over the head and drag me to the shadow court?”
Leoni ran a hand over her red-gold hair, in its usual bun. “I thought about it. But you’re heavy, and to be honest, I’m tired of fighting you on it. I fought your sister on the same thing, and look where it got me. Without a job. Now on some harebrained journey with her equally stubborn younger brother. I’m doing my duty by protecting you, and I will keep protecting you, but fighting you does me no good. So go to this ball. See if Poppy is this mysterious new princess, and then, get your ass back down here because I will have a ship secured and ready to take us to Sorrengard.”
Relief flooded me at her words because I really didn’t want to have to fight her on this. I turned my gaze upward toward the castle.
I was going to attend this ball and find out if the long-dead princess of the sky court was Poppy.
Fuck me.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
POPPY
Isat in a chair as a lady’s maid curled my hair. It tumbled down my shoulders in big loops, shining and shimmering in the waning light of the sun.
“I’ve always dreamt of this moment,” the queen said from the doorway. My mother said. That was going to take some getting used to.
“Your Majesty.” I straightened.
She winced, and I knew it hurt that I didn’t call the queen Mother yet, but I’d spent twenty-two years without a mother. I wasn’t even sure I needed one at this point in my life.
“Here,” she said, nodding at the lady’s maid, who curtsied and left the room. She took the thick iron tongs and wrapped another strand of hair around them. Her deep purple gown sparkled and shimmered like twilight, her gray hair swept up into a sleek bun. Wrinkles lined her face, more prominent in the light.
“You know how to curl hair?” I asked the queen.
“Oh yes,” she said, a smile on her lips. “My mother was the stylist for the queen, your father’s mother. She’d bring me sometimes when she did Her Majesty’s hair, and I’d spend hours watching the ways she styled the queen.”
