Page 9 of Queen of the Night
I lift Rupi to my shoulder and glance at her dubiously, but she only offers acheepand prods me with a quill-feather in the neck. Apparently, I’m not the only one who wants to see Ikar.
“Into the lair we go,” I mutter.
I clasp the servant’s gloved hand and step out, feeling more like an imposter than ever in my life. I don’t belong here. I’m not royalty or even a member of the high class. I don’t belong in this color, or this fancy dress, or on the palace grounds. I don’t even know if I’m good enough to belong on this team for this journey. But here I am, and it appears I’m stuck.
I watch the black carriage pull away with the clip-clopping of horse hooves and turning wheels on cobbled stone, the road it travels framed by the exquisite gardens full of tall hedges, flowers, shade trees, and gurgling fountains. While I’d love to allow my eyes to linger on the gardens that extend as far as I can see, my attention returns to the castle where I stare at the rows and rows of windows sparkling in the sunset along itswalls… And those rounded towers I thought looked so tall from my room? Now they appear even higher, so high I have to crane my neck to see the tops of their pointed turret roofs where small flocks of birds perch. Does the king keep his prisoners locked in there… or in the depths of the dungeons I imagine are hidden beneath this beautiful nightmare?
I’m pulled from my thoughts when Rupi ducks her head and peeks beneath my chin to look at something, and I follow her attention to find a young woman coming our way. I straighten my shoulders. Time to be the imposter I am, and I better make it good if I don’t want to end up in the dungeon…
I glance upward once more… or in one of those towers.
She gives a slight bow and offers a kind smile. “I’m Belinda. I’ll be your escort.”
Her eyes catch on Rupi within my curls, and a slight frown pulls at her brows, but she doesn’t say anything. A bonus to pretending to be upper class, I suppose.
“This way.” She motions away from the front entrance and toward a path I wouldn’t have noticed on my own.
Tall hedges are shaped in a way that creates a covered-arch path draped in fanciful shadows. I saw well-dressed men and women traversing other parts of the grounds, but there’s no one but us on this path. What does that mean?It can’t be good.Secret paths aren’t for the normal people… they’re for kings. I gulp so loudly Belinda looks over her shoulder as if she’s worried I might be choking. I muster up a tight smile to assure her that I am, indeed, as fine as I can be.
We reach a double door with two guards who step aside in the darkness to allow us passage, and I try not to show how terrified I am by lifting my chin the smallest bit. Belinda is quiet as she leads us through a gorgeous interior garden that rivals the beauty of the fae’s green thumbs. I look up tofind open balconies overlooking all of it, with rays from the suns above adding a brightness and warmth that invites me to linger. That is, until I remind myself the high king resides here. And as quick as the snap of fingers, the garden becomes a mirage to hide the wickedness that goes on behind these walls.
We enter another double door, once again blocked by two guards who step aside as Belinda nears. I’m proud when I don’t hesitate to step over the threshold. Then, just like that, I’m in the depths of the high king’s home. If I weren’t so blazing anxious, I could actually enjoy this moment. I’m not sure how long we’ve walked, distracted as I am by the slick, polished white marble floors that spread before me and the intricately crafted, light-colored woodwork that graces every wall. A large chandelier—in much better shape than the one we have at our Black Tulip headquarters—hangs in a dome-shaped room we pass through; the sunlight that shines through the enormous sparkling windows reflects off the crystals and sets it afire. It’s all very beautiful. Dangerous. The high king’s lair is all I imagined—and more.
Rupi brushes against my neck, and I’m surprised I don’t feel her trembling or her feathers beginning to quill. She usually gets anxious when we’re in danger, but I look down to find that she leans her body forward, tiny beak and fluffy white face jutting out between strands of my hair as if she’s an arrow intent on her target, who Iknowis Ikar.
I don’t see anything particularlyevilhere. It’s actually quite cheery, clean, warm, and bright… and the servants appear pleasant and well. It’s odd when I know the atrocious acts the kings have committed. Just another indication I must be on my toes. This all has to be a facade. Fake. The best villainsareexperts at hiding.
We pass through long hallways, two of which have statuesof men I assume are past kings lining their walls. I wonder which one it was that murdered the Black Tulips. I have only a chance to cast a quick glare at a few of their cold, hard eyes as we pass. Belinda keeps up a rigorous pace that I have difficulty maintaining between the desire to take in the castle and trying to take a proper step in this dress. Large tapestries and paintings grace the walls, and tall windows allow evening light to warm the light-colored halls. Passing servants, nobles, and soldiers give me slight nods of respect, eyeing my gown, and groups of two or three originators at a time pass me in the hall, inclining their heads toward me as if I am one of their own. So this is what it feels like to dress as an originator. I don’t like it.
I’m on edge, not just with the extra attention and large numbers of originators who seem more than comfortable in these halls, but waiting for a procession of soldiers to walk by with the king in their midst. Would I be required to curtsey before him? The thought has me disturbed. Partially because I have no idea how to perform a proper curtsey, but mostly because I have no respect for him. And my heart beats double time when I realize that maybe I haven’t seen the king in the halls because he’s attending dinner tonight and he’s alreadythere.
I swallow tightly and touch my bracelet still wrapped securely around my wrist, then instinctively make sure my hair hangs full over my back. Even if the king attends, he’ll think I’m an originator.I’m safe.I repeat that mentally, three times, until I fool myself into believing it.
I take a deep breath as Belinda stops before two tall wooden doors with complex vine designs engraved into the wood panels that are fitted with enormous gold handles. Rupi appears unconcerned with the entire situation, keeping her tiny eyes fixated ahead on the doors and who she knows is onthe other side. I’m slightly irritated. She’s the one who usually keeps me safe, and here she is, not warning meat all. There could be akingin there.
Two guards stand before them and one opens the door wide.
“Here we are, my lady.” Belinda curtsies again.
I nod in thanks as the door swings open, and I try not to fidget with my hands or the folds of my dress while a servant in the room announces my name.
I take another deep breath and enter. Before me is a lavish dining room with a table draped in deep-blue cloth, set with fine dishes and shining silverware, with mounds of flowers and greenery arranged around tall brightly glowing candles. A row of tall windows framed with dark-blue curtains that reach from ceiling to floor shows that there is, indeed, a beautiful balcony outside. The table is only set at one end, though it appears to seat at least thirty along each side. Soft music drifts from a harpist perched on a small corner stage surrounded by more flowers. It’s all beautiful, picturesque really, but my eyes search for just one thing: a fat, shining crown.
Chapter 6
Vera
Isearch for a crown… but the only people I see are speaking near the head of the table and I immediately spot Ikar’s familiar face—no king in sight. It’s only been a day since we’ve been apart, but I savor his presence as if it’s been months. He’s clean shaven, and his hair has been freshly trimmed. I imagine that when I stand a little nearer, I’ll see that the storminess that’s usually only a mere hint in his blue eyes will be drawn out by the dashing gray suit he wears. I find the cut of it seems to enhance his broad shoulders and trim waist and looks much too fine. And somehow I justknowhe smells as good as he looks. My mouth suddenly feels uncomfortably dry.
Rupi flaps her wings against my neck impatiently. I gather my wits about me and make my way toward the group, shoulders back, careful to shove all signs of worry beneath the weight of this awful white dress.
Halfway there, Rupi loses patience and soars from my shoulder straight for Ikar. He grins as she flutters to his shoulder and comfortably shuffles up close to his neck, settling in as if she plans to never leave. I just know she’s going to carryhis scent on her when she returns to me, leading to a torturous night. We’re going to have a chat, she and I.
“Welcome, Vera. Thank you for joining us.” I see the flash of appreciation in his eyes as he takes in my appearance, but I’m disappointed when he doesn’t move to stand by me, though I know I shouldn’t be. He’s my boss now, and apparently, one of the king’s favorite officers.
If I thought he looked comfortable at Mama Tina’s, he looks completely at home and more at ease than I’ve ever seen him here. Other than Mama Tina’s house party, where I still believed he was a criminal, I’m used to seeing him with some type of gore on his clothing, dirty, and at times, injured. It was easy to believe we were equals, but now I know we never were. I don’t know this side of Ikar, the side that’s not a criminal and one who is at home in the high king’s castle. I find myself curious and more than a little unsure.
He begins introductions with a beautiful brunette to his right. “This is our head originator, Nadiette.”
