“I think it’s a waste.”
Maeven frowned. “What do you mean?”
“All those people dead seems like a waste. Isn’t it better to rule over your enemies rather than kill them?”
The queen eyed me, as if my words had surprised her, but after a few seconds, a small chuckle escaped her lips. “Yes, I suppose that it is.”
Her face hardened. “Although there is something to be said for just killing your enemies outright and being done with them.”
Her gaze drifted over to her brother’s portrait, and images flickered in my mind, as bright and fast as lightning strikes. Maeven striding into an arena packed with people. Staring at King Maximus. Plunging a dagger into his chest. Her remembered joy bloomed in my heart, along with a much more surprising emotion—relief.
Maeven always seemed so cold, confident, and in control. I never dreamed that she had ever been uncertain, scared, or wary enough to feel relief. It made her seem much more human, something I had a hard time reconciling with the gleeful monster who stalked my memories.
Maeven moved away from the massacre landscape and wandered over to her own portrait. She still hadn’t dismissed me, so I had no choice but to follow her. This image must have been commissioned soon after she had become queen, because she looked at least a decade younger in it than she did in real life. She was also smiling wide and wearing a crown.
At first glance, the silver crown was quite pretty and utterly feminine. But the longer I stared at it, the more I noticed the diamond vines, jet thorns, and amethyst spikes of lilac snaking through the design, turning it into a tangle of liladorn. The shiny curls of metal and the wicked gleam of the jewels added a powerful, sinister air to the crown, while the faceted amethyst spikes looked sharp enough to cut your fingers if you tried to touch them. Much like the liladorn—and Maeven—would cut you in real life if you dared to displease them.
“I was so happy the day I sat for this portrait,” she murmured, and I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me or to herself. “I thought I had finally gotten everything I had ever wanted.”
Killing your brother and taking the throne for yourself was probably enough to brighten even the most murderous royal’s day.
“You look quite stunning in the portrait.” That was the most benign thing I could think of to say.
Maeven laughed again, but it was a low, bitter sound. “I was happy—for a while. But Everleigh Blair was right. Being queen was far more difficult than I had imagined, and it remains so. Certain nobles have never accepted me as their queen, and some of them still plot against me, even to this day.”
I wondered if she was talking about Emperia Dumond, but I kept my mouth shut. If Emperia managed to kill Maeven, then so be it. I had no interest in helping the queen survive the coup being orchestrated by Milo and his paramour. Not after seeing the massacre painting.
“But I am still here, despite all the plots against me,” Maeven said. “And I plan to sit on my throne for many days to come.”
She swept her hand out in a wide motion, as if she was gesturing at the palace as a whole and everyone inside it. “As for the rest of this, all the nobles and their plots and schemes, well, they’re all just children playing capture-the-crown.”
Capture-the-crown was a popular game for both children and adults throughout the kingdoms. Paper crowns were placed on a circle of chairs while music played. When the music stopped, everyone rushed forward to grab a chair and place a crown on their head. The person who didn’t manage to snag a seat or who tore their crown was eliminated. Then a chair was removed from the circle, and the game continued until there was only one person, one chair, and one crown left. I used to love playing the game before the massacre, but I had despised it afterward.
Maeven swept her hand out again. “’Round and ’round the nobles go, all of them fighting each other when they should be focusing on their true enemy—me.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“If the nobles were to ever band together, they might—might—be able to remove me from the throne, perhaps even kill me,” she said, her voice eerily calm as she discussed her own potential murder. “But everyone wants to capture the crown for themselves, so they will never think to work together. That keeps me safe from all of them. It’s easy enough to play the nobles against each other to get exactly what I want. I’ve gotten rather good at it these last sixteen years. I’ve had to, in order to survive. Everleigh should be proud of me. I’ve learned her long game quite well.”
Grudging admiration filled her voice when she mentioned the Bellonan queen, although she quickly fell silent again. I wondered why Maeven was being so candid with me, a total stranger. This talk was far better suited for Delmira, some advice from a queen mother to her princess daughter. Or perhaps she was trying to use it as a song of seduction, a way to lure Lady Armina to her side by promising that they would dispatch their enemies together. By her own admission, Maeven was playing some game, although I didn’t know how keeping her crown involved me.
“Leonidas is quite taken with you.”
I blinked at the abrupt change in topic. “Oh . . . I wouldn’t say that. He has been very kind, but I doubt he thinks of me in that way.”
She huffed. “I doubt he thinks of you in any other way, given how attentive he has been to you over these past few days.” She tilted her head to the side, studying me like a strix would eye a mouse it was about to gobble down. “What is it that my son finds so interesting about you?”
“I do not know, Your Majesty.”
I didn’t dare tell her about the attraction that continuously sparked, snapped, and sizzled between Leonidas and me, and I certainly couldn’t tell her about how we had saved each other’s lives, despite being natural enemies. I doubted she would understand the idea of helping someone you should be striving to kill. I still didn’t quite grasp it myself.
“Regardless, Leonidas admires you, and his opinion means a great deal to me. Out of all my children, he has always been the most loyal.”
Maeven kept staring at me. Her words seemed innocent enough, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was saying something else entirely, speaking in some secret language she thought I understood. But I had no idea what she really meant. Right now, all I wanted was to escape from her.
“You have also been quite kind to Delmira.”
“Delmira is easy to be kind to,” I replied.
That much was true. She was far too tenderhearted to be a Morricone, but I supposed every family had its black sheep.
“Yes, she is kind,” Maeven murmured. “It will probably get her killed one day, when she is queen.”
I frowned again. Delmira was third in line for the Mortan throne. She would never be queen. Milo was the heir, and Leonidas was the spare. The best Delmira could hope for was to marry someone she could tolerate, since her marriage would most likely be used to further ingratiate the Morricones with the remaining nobles who opposed their rule.
“I will not forget your kindness to my daughter,” Maeven continued. “She is still wearing that ring you made. Interesting that you chose a liladorn design for Delmira. Most people wouldn’t have thought of that.”
Once again, I had no idea what she truly meant, so I offered up another benign platitude. “I thought it suited the princess. There seems to be more liladorn vines in her chambers than anywhere else in the palace.”
Maeven’s eyes sharpened, as though I had just said something extremely interesting, although I couldn’t imagine what it might be. “I have some other business to attend to, but I look forward to seeing you at my birthday ball, Lady Armina.”
“I will be honored to attend, Your Majesty.” I curtsied, but Maeven gave me an impatient wave, telling me to rise.
The queen swept past me, heading toward the three guards still stationed at the end of the corridor. She didn’t look back, but I felt like she could see me anyway, standing in the middle of the Hall of Portraits, wondering what long game she wa
s playing—and when she might decide to kill me.
Part Three
Queens
Chapter Twenty-Six
I left the Hall of Portraits and roamed through the palace, trying to find Reiko, but none of the servants had any idea where she was. Frustration filled me, but I moved on to the other things I needed to do in order to leave Myrkvior.
First, I went to the palace kitchen, found Anaka, and asked her to bring some food to my chambers. Next, I stepped out onto the balcony Leonidas had shown me that overlooked the marketplace as well as the palace gates. I stood in the shadows and watched the guards, but there didn’t seem to be any more men stationed here than usual. The same thing went for the rotunda and the rest of the palace. Good. No additional guards meant that Grimley and I would have an easier time slipping out.
By the time I had finished studying the guards’ positions and returned to my chambers, Anaka was waiting there with platters of sandwiches, sweet cakes, and more. I thanked the girl for her service and gave her several of the amethyst hairpins from the vanity table. Anaka’s gray eyes widened, and she curtsied and stammered out her appreciation. I hugged her, then sent the girl on her way.
I ate some of the food, but I stuffed the majority of it in a black leather satchel I found in the back of the armoire. It shouldn’t take Grimley more than a couple of days to fly us back to Blauberg, but it wouldn’t hurt to take some food, in case we ran into trouble. I also folded the purple riding coat Leonidas had given me and added it to my pile of supplies, since it was by far the warmest garment I had.
After that, there was nothing to do but wait—and worry.
Two hours before the queen’s birthday ball, a knock sounded on my door, and Anaka led me to Delmira’s chambers. The princess had already donned a gorgeous lilac-colored gown that brought out her amethyst eyes. Her black hair was swept up into a crown braid that arched across her head, and berry balm stained her lips a blackish purple. Her only jewelry was the liladorn ring I’d made, and the symbol suited the princess, just as I’d told Maeven.
“Are you as excited about the ball as I am?” Delmira asked.
Not at all, but I smiled as though nothing was wrong. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
She clapped her hands, and servants rushed forward, showing me gown after gown, along with shoes, jewelry, and more. Normally, I would have loved getting ready for a royal ball, but the last thing I wanted to do was celebrate another year of Maeven’s cursed life.
An hour later, I was swathed in a dark blue velvet gown with a high neck and long sleeves trimmed with silver thread, along with matching blue heels. One of the servants had twisted the front of my hair into the same crownlike braid that Delmira had, although the back of my short locks remained loose. Dark gray shadow and liner rimmed my blue eyes, while scarlet berry balm coated my lips.
My gargoyle pendant was safely hidden under the gown, and my dagger was nestled in my pocket, along with the silver compact Leonidas had given me. I should have left the compact in his library, but I would probably never see him again after tonight, and part of me selfishly wanted something to remember him by.
“You look stunning!” Delmira pronounced when the servants finished with me. “Leo will definitely notice.”
She winked, and I forced myself to smile again. “I’m sure you’re right.”
The princess dismissed the servants and told them to enjoy the ball, then threaded her arm through mine and led me to the throne room. We stopped at the entrance, and I blinked, dazzled by the sight before me.
The throne room had been quite impressive during last night’s dinner, but the servants had transformed it into something truly magical for the ball. Enormous strixes made of purple paper dangled from the ceiling, as though they were hovering in midair. Purple fluorestones had been set into the strixes’ eyes, making them glow and bathing the room in a soft haze. Purple and silver ribbons wrapped around the columns, along with tiny purple, silver, and white fluorestones. More colored fluorestones curled around the second-floor balcony railing before streaming up the walls and covering the ceiling like a blanket of shimmering stars.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Delmira asked, pride rippling through her voice. “I designed the decorations myself.”
“It’s stunning.” I might not like being in the heart of Morta, but I could appreciate its dark, dangerous beauty.
Now that we were at the ball, I needed to find Reiko and warn her about Wexel and Milo. Then I could return to my chambers, grab my supplies, summon Grimley, and finally escape from this wretched place.
I started to slide my arm out of Delmira’s, but she tightened her grip. “Come! Let’s greet the guests.”
She smiled brightly at me, just like she always did, but the expression didn’t quite reach her eyes, and she seemed a bit . . . nervous. Perhaps she was worried about the ball going smoothly. I certainly wouldn’t have wanted to disappoint Maeven on her birthday.
Either way, Delmira dragged me around the room, introducing me to one noble after another. The names and faces blurred together, and the nobles were far more interested in currying favor with their princess than they were in talking to me. After about twenty minutes, a woman engaged Delmira in a fierce debate about the differences between the colors lilac and lavender, and I was able to slip away from them.
I headed toward the most remote, deserted corner I could find, which, strangely enough, was close to a table full of wrapped presents the nobles had brought for Maeven. Unfortunately for me, the spot was also deep in the throne room, far away from the open doors and the escape they represented.
“Leaving so soon?” a familiar voice drawled.
I turned to find Reiko gliding toward me. She was dressed in a long, flowing gown covered with gold sequins that glimmered like mirrors. The gold pendant shaped like a flying dragon she had worn to dinner last night hung from a chain around her neck, while a matching gold ring stretched across all four fingers on her right hand. Her black hair was pulled back into a fishtail braid that was tied off with a green velvet ribbon. Gold shadow and liner rimmed her green eyes, and her lips had been painted a deep scarlet.
Reiko stopped and peered at me over the rim of her crystal goblet. “Why are you so worried?”
“How do you know I’m worried?”
“You have this little wrinkle between your eyes. You’d better smooth that out before it sticks. Pampered princesses aren’t supposed to have wrinkles.”
I rolled my eyes. “Neither are glamorous dragon morph spies, but you seem just as worried as I am.”
She frowned. “How do you know I’m worried?”
I made a little circle with my index finger. “Because you have that same wrinkle between your eyes.”
Reiko lifted her hand as if to rub away the telltale mark, then scowled when she saw my sly smile. So did the dragon on her right hand. They didn’t like being teased.
She huffed and took a sip of punch before getting down to business. “I took your arrow to my metalstone master contacts in the city. I barely got back in time for the ball.”
“And?”
She shook her head. “None of them had any idea why Milo would make arrows out of tearstone. The stone itself doesn’t necessarily make arrows any tougher or stronger than regular iron ones. Of course tearstone can absorb and deflect magic, but that doesn’t seem like a good enough reason to craft it into common arrows.”
Worry churned in my stomach. I couldn’t stop Milo’s plot if I didn’t have all the pieces to the puzzle. Still, Reiko had held up her end of our bargain, so I decided to do the same.
“Leonidas and I went to a workshop that used to belong to King Maximus, but it was a trap, and Captain Wexel was lying in wait for us, along with several guards. They tried to kill us, but we killed them all instead, except for Wexel, who escaped.”
Reiko’s eyes narrowed. “You seem upset about that. Why? Was that the first time you’ve ever killed someone?”
A harsh, caustic laugh s
pewed out of my lips. “Even after everything that’s happened, you still just see me as Glitzma, don’t you? A pampered princess incapable of doing anything more strenuous than picking out gowns and jewels to wear.”
Her face remained blank, but her inner dragon winced in confirmation.
“No, today wasn’t the first time I killed someone,” I continued, my voice even more caustic than my laugh had been. “I gutted some of the guards with my dagger. Then I used my mind magier power to throw others into a wall hard enough to snap their spines. And for the finishing touch, I screamed and inadvertently unleashed a wave of magic that tore through the workshop like a tornado, picking up and destroying everything in its path.”
Reiko frowned. “Why are you so upset about that? Those men were trying to kill you. It was self-defense.”
“I’m not upset about killing the guards. I’m upset because I lost control of my magic—again.” The last word left a bitter taste in my mouth. “My magic never seems to work right when it counts, when it really matters, when people’s lives are at stake. It either tosses me back into the past, or pours out of me in unstoppable waves, or paralyzes me, rendering me utterly useless.”
My voice dropped to a ragged whisper. “Just like it made me useless during the Seven Spire massacre.”
“I see.” Reiko’s voice was soft, but no judgment flashed in her gaze. Instead, to my surprise, she reached out and gripped my hand, and her inner dragon gave me a sympathetic look. “You weren’t useless during the massacre. Magic or not, nothing you could have done would have stopped what happened.”
I shook my head. “No. You don’t understand. I heard Maeven thinking about the massacre before it happened. But instead of warning my uncle Frederich, I was frightened, so I ran away. And then when the turncoat soldiers attacked, I didn’t do anything—not one damn thing. I could have used my magic to help people, to protect them. But instead, I hid under a table while my countrymen were slaughtered. I’m nothing but a bloody coward. I know it, and now you know it too.”
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