Page 51 of Queen of the Night
“You’re afraid of a woman?Why?”
He smiles somewhat tightly. “I think I’ve given enough of an answer for now.”
He’s right—I should be glad he admitted as much as he did, but I can’t resist digging a little deeper. “Just one more question.”
“Ask it, and I’ll decide if I answer.”
I step carefully along the vine bridge, trying to focus on keeping my balance while also sating my curiosity. “Family member or love interest?”
He doesn’t respond for a few moments. “Fine.Pastlove interest.”
I look back to see his expression guarded, and I know I won’t be learning anything else today. I send him a commiserating half-smile over my shoulder. He might not know it, but I sort of understand. My heart is in the midst of breaking—onlyheld together with the temporary glue of being in Ikar’s presence.
I’m pulled from my thoughts when we finally leave the bridge and are led along another shorter path and up a set of beautiful smooth rock steps. When we reach the top, my eyes widen at the small clearing that spreads before us. In the center is a smooth wood throne covered in flowers and vines, where a woman so ethereally beautiful sits that I reach up and gingerly touch my dirty hair, feeling extra grungy. Somehow being covered in dried spider blood and layers of dirt didn’t matter so much until now. I tuck a few stray strands behind my ear as if it’ll make a difference.
Her skin is green, like the nymph who led us here… I nearly envy it. Her hair falls in dark green waves around her, making her light blue eyes that sparkle like the Lucent River even more pronounced. Flowers adorn her hair throughout its long length, and intricately woven vines make up her dress where more bloom. I watch as a small flower slowly unfurls within her hair and try to keep my mouth from hanging open. Another blooms along the length of her vine-woven dress. She appears to be a literal, growing part of the forest.
She rises from her throne and curtsies deeply to Ikar. I step back even further, aware that I’m nowhere near royalty and feeling like a complete outsider. I bump into Darvy behind me, who steadies me with a gentle hand.
“It’s been one hundred twenty-five years since a king visited last,” Queen Odella says in a voice as light and beautiful as the whisper of leaves rustling in the wind.
Ikar nods. “My apologies. There are many things I attempt to make right.”
She smiles slowly. “Come.”
Chapter 31
Vera
Odella waits a moment to walk beside Ikar, all grace and peaceful elegance. They immediately fall into quiet conversation, leaving the rest of us to follow. I feel a nasty sting in my core at the sight of the two of them. Her beauty matches his effortless good looks, and from the appearance of their easy conversation, they get along well.
But I can’t focus on that for long because right before us are large flat leaves wrapped around a large tree trunk that create a set of steps that look too fragile to actually use, but Ikar follows Odella without hesitation. Darvy follows next, and Rhosse motions me to go before him. I tentatively step on the first leaf, and even though I’ve seen three others use the steps before me, I still expect it to fold beneath the weight of my boot… but it doesn’t. So I step on the next and the next as we circle the trunk upward. Above, I continue to hear the occasional word and the deep timbre of Ikar’s voice, and the uncomfortable feeling in my belly continues to grow. I’m so distracted by Odella’s light, tinkling laughter that I miss a step, and my foot falls through a gap.
Rhosse snatches me by the arm and sets me back on my feet.
“Careful there,” he growls.
But as I steady myself, Darvy whispers over his shoulder. “He means… quit being jealous and focus on not falling out of the tree.”
I whip my gaze to his, finding a completely unapologetic look on his face. “That isnotwhat happened.”
The commotion has Ikar and Odella peering down through a gap above to see what’s going on, and my cheeks heat. Ikar eyes me closely. I’m reminded that with plentiful lucent here, he can surely pull magic to increase any of his strengths without my help—including his hearing. I inwardly groan knowing he likely heard everything.
“Continue on,” Rhosse says, but he watches me as if he’s waiting for me to fall through another gap.
I try to ignore him and pay extra close attention to these stupid branches so I don’t draw further attention to myself while I seethe. I want to rage at Darvy. Scream at him that he’s wrong. Punch him for suggesting it. I amnotjealous. This feeling is simply stress curdling like sour milk in my belly knowing we are close to finding out if the Field of Tulips still exists.
Everyone but the cozy couple ahead is silent as we follow them through twisty treetop paths. The humidity and warmth of this little piece of lucent land has my hair springing up into fuzzy fly-aways that refuse to be poked back into my braid or stay behind my ears, making me feel extra frustrated as we trail behind a stunning forest queen. The leaves above us form a canopy roof, and within those leafy branches, I spot numberless colorful birds of all varieties whose songs blend and mix inways I’ve never heard—it would be calming if I wasn’t so riled up.
Just as I begin to feel the first waves of dizziness from the height of our ascent, we reach the top. Odella walks forward across space between trees that’s empty—one that would have me free-falling to the forest floor, but solid wood grows and reaches outward from beneath her feet with every step, creating a gleaming balcony that spreads out around us, long and wide. I watch with continued amazement as a table and chairs fit to grace a royal dining room arises, growing from the wood itself.
Once everything is still, Odella gestures to the head seat, and Ikar nods his thanks. He seats Odella to his right before he seats himself, and she smiles kindly as she waits for the rest of us to sit. I have the urge to race Rhosse for the chair second to Ikar’s left, not wanting to torture myself by sitting right beside him and unable to say it out loud since his blazing hearing is so good. Instead I hang back momentarily, trying to get Darvy or Rhosse to sit to Ikar’s left, but to no avail. They’re both too gentlemanly to let me have my way.
They usher me toward the table, and Rhosse pulls out the chair for me.
“Thank you,” I offer tightly.
I scootch up to the table, feeling flustered, and suddenly find my knee pressing straight into Ikar’s solid thigh. I make the mistake of glancing up to meet his blue eyes that are just as aware as I feel. My lucent hums with pleasure, rushing toward him as if I’ve given it permission with the accidental contact. I snatch the rebel magic back.
