Page 110 of Shifter King
"Oh. It's time." WroOth studied Amelia's face. This was not going to go the way the queen planned. It wasn't going to go the way he planned either, and…he took Amelia's pulse.
Much too fast. It felt as if she had just been running. Definitely not a good sign.
Sweat formed on her brow and rolled down her neck. Her wrist burned with heat already. But she stood entirely motionless, shoulders straight and spine erect.
Zorna raised her hands as the whole assembly continued to watch. The flute music started, joined by other woodwind instruments. "Behold the truest of loves. The Neyeb can scarcely control herself in his presence."
Gabrice strode out with a casual stride, one hand resting on his belt, the other gripping the bowl of his bronze goblet. His boots echoed dramatically on the wood. He'd changed his clothes at least to something more formal and which depicted the full spectrum of eagles and hawks to which his family claimed connection. But there was no mastery or skill in the look he gave Amelia. Only derision. "I think she's controlling herself just fine, Mother."
WroOth hid a small smirk. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He'd been afraid he'd have to grab her up and make some clever or even clumsy excuse. That she would start throwing herself at the prince or anyone for that matter. Instead she had gone eerily still.
The plan was obviously for her to make a fool of herself for the prince. But she wasn't the fool standing here.
Zorna lifted her hand. "Neyeb, do not be shy," she said, louder now. "Show the Bealorn Prince, the only surviving heir of the Kedal Line how you feel for all to see."
Maybe the real fool wasn't obvious yet. He'd healed enough of the venom out to change his vocal cords. His mouth covered by the fan, he tossed his voice to the far side of the room. "Who believes this load of cabiza dung?"
He tossed another voice front center before the stage. "This prince can't even get a wife when his mother drugs her."
Next to the right. "Well, drugs are the only way he can woo anyone to his bed. Anyone who can say no will."
Exclamations of shock and horror rippled out. The assembled people started moving away from the voices, searching for the speakers.
Zorna's cheeks turned bright red. Gabrice scoffed but stepped back. "Who said that?" she shouted.
"Your Majesty," WroOth said loudly, stepping forward and fluttering the fan faster now. "As you wisely noted, my sister is shy. All of these people? It's too much for her! How can she possibly be expected to show anyone how she feels when she has been given a powerful substance and exposed to so many. All she can do is stare at him in adoration." A perfectly true statement as long as one accepted 'contempt' as a substitute for 'adoration.'
He tossed his voice out once more to a place near the left of the stage. "Ah, that makes sense."
Then to the far back. "Why put them on display? Let the lovey darlings be alone together or rest up for the wedding!"
"Yes, yes, happy returns for the happy couple." He tossed that one into the middle. Not a single one of them looked at the simple shifter girl next to her clearly adoring Neyeb sister. They were all spinning, twisting, and searching. A few had even started to try to slip out, the doors cracked open just enough to allow some to escape the assembly.
Gabrice stepped back, the curl of his upper lip more pronounced. Color flared through the entirety of his face.
Zorna made several gestures that led to the curtain coming down. Servants then slid panels across it as well to give them further privacy. "What is this?" she demanded, shaking her finger at Amelia. "What is she doing?"
"Being drugged I'd assume." Gabrice drank deeply from his goblet. "Doesn't look like she can hold her liquor. Or maybe she's just realized there's no point in being here. We're all just your puppets, aren't we?"
"You could have done your part. You could have made it look like you were halfway interested in her. With that one, you get to be the poppa of a whole new race of Bealorns. Where is your ambition?"
"In the river," he growled, the words slurring.
"Have a care, Gabrice. Or else—"
"Or else what?" he demanded.
Shaking her head, Zorna held up her hands. Gritting her teeth, she crossed over to Amelia and slapped her across the face. A red mark remained from the blow, but Amelia did not respond. "Wake up, girl! This is your fault too."
"You are the one who drugged her." WroOth nearly grabbed Zorna's arm and snapped it. Shrieking moons, this woman was trying his patience. "She is not responsible for her actions. Or lack thereof."
Zorna raised an eyebrow, anger sparking dangerously in her eyes. "How did you just speak to me?"
"The Neyeb is pointless," Gabrice growled. "Drop her in the river and let the crocs and eels deal with her. Why should I care?"
"You should. You should care very much," Zorna shouted. "Or else at the wedding—"
Gabrice swung his arm out in a broad gesture. "Just throw her in the pit and throw that skinchanging whore pet you've got in with her. Apparently you can have your skinchangers, but I can't have mine."
