Page 27 of A Touch of Stars and Stones
Except maybe Aten, who has me so intrigued, even smiling. But after our last interaction, he’s an unknown. It doesn’t stop me thinking, or hoping we’ll get to know each other or even become friends. The disappointment from earlier is still lodged in my chest as he left without a word.
Kyra returns so fast that I have to wonder where she’s getting everything from. “Here,” she pants, holding out a pair of soft leather slippers.
“Thank you.”
“Come on. You’re late. And that makes me look just as bad as you.” She ushers me towards the door as I hop and try to slide the supple shoes onto my feet.
“Is Lyle already there?” I ask as we round the corner at the top of The Tower and arrive at the ominous door into the Great Hall.
“No. Lyle isn’t invited to this.”
“It’s just me?” I squeak in panic.
Kyra gives me a sympathetic smile that at least tells me she sees why I’m so alarmed by this.
“I’ll be in the room, so you won’t be alone.” I want to grab her hand, but as if she can sense my move, she steps back from me. That’s never going to feel right—not reaching for somebody to touch.
I’d love to hug you right about now.I don’t say it, only think it and settle for, “Thank you.”
Kyra looks at me, her eyes wide, a little startled for a moment, but then forces a smile and steps towards the door. She nods to me and pushes it open.
The distraction of getting ready, of being late, and realising Lyle won’t be there all helped me to forget about the ball of nerves in my stomach. That is now impossible as I step forward and walk into the hall unaccompanied. It’s so severe I might even vomit.
The hall isn’t as empty as it was earlier.
A huge table, lavishly decorated with ivy and wreaths of flowers, now sits at the base of the dais.
My eyes run over the people at the seats, sitting with a noticeable gap between one another, and all of them collectively look at me.
The four I met this morning, I recognise, but there are more than that. Many more.
My heart starts to fly under the collective scrutiny, but I keep my head up and look over the table in return. There’s one seat left, next to an elegant woman adorned in finery more appropriate for a queen, perhaps. Gold is gleaming at her ears and around her neck, with soft curls tangled in her dark hair, one seat down from the head of the table.
I would have guessed that the Maker would be seated at the head, given that she is the daughter of the Goddess they worship, but it’s the man I attacked.
And Aten is to his right.
Our eyes find each other’s, but I break the contact quickly as I move to find my own seat.
“You did get the message that you’d be joining us for dinner, then.” The man I assaulted earlier, in red, addresses me, picking on the fact that I am, as Kyra warned, late.
Swallowing, I latch onto the anger I’ve grown accustomed to feeling and use it to fire my voice. “I did. However, it wasn’t untiljust now. Where I’m from, invitations to a formal dinner aren’t usually given at such short notice. And I’d certainly never be expected to be in attendance without even offering a response to said invitation,” I bite back, squaring my shoulders even if I’m trembling inside.
I settle in my seat, ignore the quaking inside of me, and hope they don’t travel to the ground around me like back home.
My eyes stray to Aten before checking back on what his father might be about to say. His face has reddened like it did in here earlier.
“Why you?—”
“Never mind, Orion, she is here now. I’m Celestine Ciro. And I believe you will be training with our son, Aten.” She inclines her head to her son. Who, in turn, bows his head towards me.
It’s all so formal.
His hair is neatly combed, and he’s wearing a dark shirt with a soft collar and detailed embroidered patterns around the neck and down the centre of it that appear to be a deep purple hue. At least he looks about as pleased to be at the table as I feel.
Taking a slow and measured breath, I glance around and take in all the splendour of the room, and gratitude hits me that Kyra fixed my outfit. I’m the most underdressed here. In the prettiest thing I’ve ever worn.
The woman, Celestine, looks at me, waiting for an answer.
