Page 7 of Queen of the Night
She doesn’t seem overly surprised to see me here, so apparently I don’t looktoomuch like the dirt-poor, low-class citizen I am. Feeling awkward and clumsy, I pull the rumpled parchment from my pocket and hand it to the woman, fully prepared to be turned away. She reads it quickly and looks at me as her brows raise in pleasant surprise.
“On the royal tab? Always room for a friend of the king.” She smiles brightly. “Follow me.”
I’m certainly no friend of the king’s, but I don’t correct her assumption. If it gets me a room for the night, I’ll go with theruse even if it’s further from the truth than anything could ever be. But itisconcerning that Ikar has permission to use the royal tab… how close are he and the king anyway? Right now I should feel happy. I’ve never taken a contract with such fine amenities, but a pit forms in my stomach. Ikar has enough sway to purchase a room in the king’s name, and it’s obeyed without question? What doesthatmean? Do all officers do that sort of thing, or is Ikar a favorite? I sigh. I assume he’s a favorite. He seems to be that type, and that just makes everything more dangerous.
Edna leads me up a set of stairs, and we leave behind the low hum of conversation as we enter an elegant hallway lined with beautiful wood doors and a plush rug that travels the length of the space.
She procures a gold key and inserts it into the lock, opening the door effortlessly. She gestures for me to enter and drops the key in my hand. “As a guest of the king, we are at your service for any needs you might have. I’ll have a private dinner and hot water for a bath sent up.”
I thank her quietly, half in awe, as I step through the door and hear it click shut quietly behind me. I find myself standing in an elegant sitting room, albeit a small one. A door to my left must lead to a bedroom, but before I investigate, I take in the space before me. Two small settees face each other, a tiny table with fancy legs and scrolling woodwork along its sides settled between them. I walk carefully between the two couches along a finely dyed rug I can’t wait to sink my toes into later and over to the large window that overlooks the busy street below.
I pull aside light curtains to find the second sun has almost set, the sky set afire in deep orange, and in the not-so-far distance I spy the top of the ivory stone castle rising far above even the tallest of Moneyre’s buildings. My eyes roam over thespires and turrets outlining the sky. Even from this distance, it’s clearly beautiful.
This is closer than I should ever be, but here in this fancy inn, having spent a day shopping and traversing a new and very beautiful city and seeing little evidence that gloam exists, I feel a sense of safety I will readily admit is false.
I spot the first groups of originators walking the streets with lucent orbs in their hands to provide light to patrolling soldiers, and I snap the curtains shut. I don’t need any further reminder that I will be sleeping amongst a great number of enemies tonight.
I turn, ready to investigate the bedroom. When I open the door wider, Rupi soars to one of the bedposts on the elegant four-poster bed, perching on its tip, where she eyes the space with a critical eye. Ever since Ikar left us, she’s been jumpy. I don’t blame her since I’ve felt the same, which isoutrageous. I’ve always been happy on my own and always believed in my innate ability to figure any situation out. But I’d be lying if I said I don’t miss him, and we’ve only been away from each other less than a day. I have excellent reasons to worry for the state of my heart when I leave for good after this journey.
I wearily ease my pack from my shoulders and drop it on a fancy sort of sitting chair with a plump cushion as a seat. I fear the delicate piece of furniture might collapse beneath the weight, but after watching it with narrowed eyes for a moment, it seems it’ll hold. I turn my attention to the head of the enormous bed that sits against one wall, covered in an array of fluffy pillows in all shades of green and a lovely blue comforter. A claw-foot bathing tub occupies the corner to the right, calling to me like a siren, and a wood dresser with fancy gold knobs stands opposite the bed. It’s all very perfect. So perfect that I’m not sure I’ll be able to get comfortable.
Rupi finishes her inspection and coasts back to my shoulder, using her beak to nip my earlobe affectionately. I pull out a small handful of her favorite birdseed and spread it across the polished wood dresser. She wastes no time fluttering down and begins to peck happily, hopping here and there as she picks through the seeds. Her gentle cracking and crunching soothes my nerves, providing the sense of normalcy I need.
I begin to relax as I shrug off my cloak and drape it across the back of the chair my pack occupies. I eye the tub that has yet to be filled, and a smile begins to turn my lips up. Who knows when I’ll get to bathe again? I plan to make the best of it.
I sit on the edge of the bed to begin removing my boots, but there’s a knock at the door, and I freeze. Rupi shoots back to the tip of the bedpost and quills up, looking much larger than her actual size.
A muffled voice comes through the wood. “Delivery for Vera.”
I didn’t order anything.I stand and pull my knife from its sheath, hiding it slightly behind my thigh as I open the door and peek out. An elderly man with bright-white hair who’s dressed in royal-looking clothing holds up a garment bag. A petite woman with hair as dark as ink stands behind him. I’m instantly on edge.
“Wrong room.” I begin to close the door.
The old man is faster than he looks, and he sticks a polished boot in before I can get it closed. “Are you Vera?”
“Yes, but?—”
“Then it’s for you.”
The castle folk sure know how to make sure their deliveries are made. This man is persistent.
I sigh, deciding he’s no threat and slip the knife back in itssheath before opening the door a bit wider and sticking my hand out resignedly for the garment bag.
I snatch it, and I’m about to close the door again when he places a large white scroll in the space and speaks again. “Meredith is here to take measurements for armor.”
“Armor?” I ask doubtfully.
He shakes the scroll at me.
I eye him suspiciously and hesitantly reach for it. He keeps his shiny boot wedged in the door to ensure it doesn’t close, and I purse my lips at the fact he assumes correctly. I snap open the scroll and scan it quickly. It appears armor will be a requirement for this journey and Meredith has, in fact, been sent by Ikar. The signature at the bottom matches the one on the parchment he left in my hand earlier.
I sigh. “Fine.”
In no time, Meredith is whisking around me, measuring and recording numbers, but she’s much faster than the dressmakers Mama Tina forced me to endure, so I can’t complain. Within minutes she’s finished, speedily rolling up her measuring tape and tucking away her notes.
“Watch for a black carriage, unmarked,” the man says before he gives a sharp nod, and the two of them are out the door.
I watch as he marches down the hall with Meredith scurrying behind him. I waste no time shutting and locking the door before laying the bag across a settee in the sitting room. I quickly open it and find astarkwhite gown—whiter than that old man’s hair and as blinding as what the originators wear.
