Page 64 of A City of Flames

“In honor of Nathaniel.” The queen’s tone has lowered an octave, lingering with authority. “I am inviting them all to join me at the ball, whatever objection you might have. I do not care for it, Erion.”

The hall fills with thick tension as steam from the potatoes no longer lingers the room, and the curtains flow across, projecting the remaining light from outside onto the table. My shoulders stiffen at how the queen’s words tick the general off as he shakes his head, pegging me with that harshness in his eyes.

Attempting to clear the strange atmosphere, I say quietly, “I do not have a gown for such an event, nor will my brothers have anything except scraps.”

“You needn’t worry about that, Naralía. I’ll be sure to have Miriam, my lady in wait, help with your brothers and as for you—” She emphasizes, staring at my hair. “Once supper is over, I’ll have someone fetch a seamstress to measure you.”

I nearly choke at all her offers, her kindness? It’s hard to believe she’s capable of anything that involves the Rivernorth’s demise.

“I—” Looking over at Lorcan, his intense stare pierces through me such that I have to take a deep breath once I gaze back at the queen. “Thank you for the invitation, I’ll be sure to tell my brothers.” It’s all I can say, knowing declining an offer from the queen would be foolish.

Her lip quirks, the shine of them painted in rouge. “Now.” She rests her elbow on the arm of the chair. “Tell me more about your brothers.”

I perk up at that, my heart full just by thinking of them as I begin telling her of their names.

* * *

Lorcan and the general retreat to the barracks as soon as the meal is over, leaving me alone with the queen and the seamstress she’d promised to beckon in such a short space of time.

With the seamstress scowling at me to stand straight, I can’t stop staring as the queen lounges on a settee in the hall-like room, plush with orange cushions and yellow gossamer curtains just like Emberwell—bright, fiery and warm.

I look at the seamstress, as I straighten out my arm then at the queen. “What will the dress be like?” I ask as she swirls the goblet in her hand.

“A surprise.” She grins. “Noctura ball, everyone is notified to dress in colors of the fire. It’s in honor of the lights that the Isle of Elements will project.” Taking a sip from her wine, she points at me. “But you, darling, will dress in something that will enthrall anyone who walks through the palace doors.”

Enthralling? I never thought the day would come when the queen would treat me far better than most. “Why are you being so kind to me?” My voice skeptical. It’s not as if my father spoke of her as if they were once friends. “I’m only a trainee, not even a true venator yet.”

She lowers her goblet, her smile sharp. “Am I not allowed to be kind to my warriors, Naralía?”

I blanch. “No, of course, you are. It’s just—”

“I know how much Nathaniel adored his children,” she interrupts, and I hide a wince at that knowledge of my father and how I miss him. “I’m only returning my kindness for his youngest, who seems passionate about the role of venator.”

The scoff straining to burst out of my mouth is almost irresistible when I know passion means nothing if I’m working with a thief—a dragon, a shifter, an... idiot.

Nodding slowly instead, I glance at her neck, and then my lips bend into a smile. “That’s a wonderful pendant. I couldn’t help but notice it.”

Her hand clasps over it as she tilts her head, and swallowing, I add, “Is it a family heirloom?”

“No,” she answers in a curious drawl. “More like a gift given to me.”

“I suppose it must be important to you then,” I say, the words trailing off at the end as the seamstress mutters for me to stop fidgeting again.

The queen’s lip twitches. “It’s quite frankly useless to me.”

A light oh parts from my lips, puzzled by that answer. “May I ask why you wear it then?”

“I wear it the same way you are wearing those crystals in your hair.” She gets off the settee, waltzing over to the other side of the room as her gown sweeps behind her.

In thought, I trace my fingers over the crystals. Mine aren’t useless to me. They’re Freya’s. But the queen seems to have brushed that question off in her own way.

After setting her goblet down, she turns and comes towards me, unclasping the pendant from her neck. “This pendant, Naralía.” She moves it between her fingers, gold shining over her almost ebony skin. “Holds a certain history to it.”

Nearly entranced, my eyes flicker around the pendant and the three rivers atop a compass pointing north.

The Rivernorths.

Perhaps her acts of kindness are a cover for what might have happened. Remaining calm even if I know already about the history, I act unsure. “With the treaty?”

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