Page 24 of Queen of Ashes and Scars
I serve him a respectful nod. The dubious greeting confirms that I don’t have his true allegiance yet, a fact I’m hoping to change during my visit.
It’s weird to be back in Hadria, to an almost immutable piece of the night court, after so many hours in limbo. Out there, I didn’t have to pretend to be anything more than what I am. I didn’t have to worry about the gossip and possible consequences of an intimate affair with my bodyguard.
I didn’t have to wear a queen’s mask.
Jason is a rook on my chessboard, a piece inexperienced players could consider second-tier or superfluous because it’s rarely used at the beginning of the game, but he’s actually a vital cog toward victory.
He’s been master of the island for decades, long enough for the humans not to remember his predecessor, and he’s adapted with shrewd accuracy to the new age. Given the choice, he will remain in the background of politics, but with him on my side, my opponents are most likely to accept their defeat.
Jason’s gaze bounces nervously to Keenan, the angel’s wet shirt almost transparent and offering a most distracting view. Jason’s first-blood offers us a fresh white towel to pat off the rain.
“Thank you, Jean. This is Keenan Maccaillin, my guest. Can you make sure he gets a chance to wash off and eat?”
The butler bows to the waist. “Of course, Your Grace.”
Both men leave through the same passage as Leo did, and I turn back to Jason, the vampire a little less on edge without the angel present. “Is Sebastian here, yet?”
By my calculations, Peter’s rogue son should have already arrived.
“Are we expecting him, Your Grace?” Jasons asks with a frown.
“You certainly aren’t, but she is.” A boisterous voice thunders behind us, and I crane my neck around in time to see Sebastian stroll inside with no concern for his disheveled appearance—or his drenched midnight-blue suit. Water slicks his red hair back over his head, its usual fiery shade darkened by the rain.
I expect him to taunt me, but he just bends the knee, his head slightly tilted to the side. “My queen.”
“Now he somehow hasn’t forgotten his manners,” Alec whispers for Jason’s benefit.
A hiccup threatens to break my collected exterior at Sebastian’s formal greeting, the solemn glint burning in his eyes telling me he’s not being factitious. Even though his clothes are soaked through, he looks completely in control, and I know I’ve made the right decision, luring him here.
“But—will your father back her claim to the throne?” Jason stutters.
Ha! This is exactly what I’d hoped for. Jason assumes that Peter runs the show, and while that’s mostly true, just having his son here plants a seed of doubt.
I motion for Sebastian to rise to his feet, my gaze glued to him and his damn perfect poise. “Leave us, I need to speak with Sebastian alone.”
Jason’s spine stiffens, but he offers me a quick bow and exits the room, probably running off to discuss the new developments with his wife, Emilia.
I keep myself from wringing my hands and turn to Alec with a soft gaze I hope conveys my repentance. “You too, Alec.”
The bodyguard digs his toes in the ground, his eyes draped in shadows. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
I couldn’t let Alec in on my plan during the plane ride over here. Mostly because my bodyguard obstinately refused for us to be alone together, as though he feared that it would somehow latch the fidelity collar back around my neck. But if I’m being honest, his stubbornness was not the only reason for my silence.
Maybe I was afraid of his reaction. Maybe a part of me still can’t believe I’m about to do something so… reckless.
Our gazes lock, and I swallow hard at the obvious betrayal shining in his eyes. His boots clomp along the paved stones, each dullthudmaking my heart squirm.
Sebastian watches Alec’s retreating back with barely-contained glee, his feline smile stretching into evil territory. “Alone at last.”
I put on my best queenly mask, one I wasn’t even sure I possessed before I saw him. “You got my invitation.”
The redheaded vampire, the same one who spent the better part of a year plotting new ways to torment me, prowls forward. “Invitation? I only overheard you saying to my father that you planned to stop by the island.”
My pulse quickens under his stare. Only Sebastian Chastain can look so charismatic while standing in a puddle of rain. There’s nothing simple about him, his love for rebellion and showmanship only rivaled by his thirst for revenge.
My lips quirk at his childishness. “Don’t play dumb. As soon as you heard, you snuck out of the castle and flew here as quickly as you could.”
