by Aurelia Skye
Since the reactions were different, but no less intense from each other, they did nothing to help her pick one. Why should she have to? Just because some Oracle claimed her husband was among the six didn’t mean she had to choose just one. Did it?
If the relationships were being propelled by magic as a way to control her and keep her compliant, then choosing all six would certainly be defying them and their goal. It wasn’t that she wanted to defy the Council, but she definitely wanted to be able to make her own choices. Having the six presented to her as possible future husbands, from which she must choose one, wasn’t anything like making her own decisions.
Keeping all six of them. That was something else entirely. Something unexpected and wickedly delightful just to contemplate. Would they be up for it though? Out of habit, she looked for Eli before remembering he was in the car behind hers. He was the one who was most likely to be unable to handle his jealousy if she asked him to share.
Marek and Kriss had their personal conflict between them, and that was another stumbling block. Her decision to be with all of them could have far-reaching consequences she hadn’t even thought to consider yet. That was why she had to go slowly, think things through, and ensure she was doing what was right for her—not because someone told her she had to, or because she was reacting to spite someone else’s decisions on her behalf.
They pulled up in front of the castle a short time later, and she looked at the shimmering window. Once Kriss pressed a button on the door, the window solidified and became transparent so she could see out of it completely. It also increased the temperature in the car by a few degrees.
“We need to pull around back to the family entrance, but I thought you might like to see the front.”
She nodded at Kriss’s words, staring at the Gothic-style monstrosity rising out of the ground. It seemed roughhewn from the same kind of black stone that created Kriss’s sword, and it would’ve been starkly beautiful except for the chrome panels scattered around the exterior. “What are those silver things?”
“Heat-reflecting panels,” said Kriss. He pressed another button, and the window returned to a shimmery state. “We have them on the vehicles too. It’s one of the ways to deal with the heat.” Pressing another button, he said, “Take us around back, please.”
As the car started moving again, she clutched her hands together on her lap as nervousness threatened to overwhelm her. She had survived her first day in Haedra, and she could get through Celestina as well. As much as she wanted to hide in the car, it wasn’t an option. Not only did she have obligations as a Trueblood, but she also needed to find an opportunity to slip Lyssa the note from Milo.
When she emerged from the vehicle, they were in an interior structure that was cavernous, and the shining black stone under her feet gleamed even in the dimly lit interior. It was smooth and hard under her feet when she stepped out of the car. A quick glance down reassured her the fae fabric had formed into a modest black dress that went to midcalf.
She followed behind the six of them as they formed a circle around her, with two others wearing nondescript gray uniforms walking side-by-side in front of them. She wasn’t surprised when they stopped in the room housing the king and queen to share a greeting.
North was slightly surprised to find it wasn’t a large throne room, having vaguely pictured royalty spending most of their time sitting on their thrones. Instead, it was an intimate little sitting room, and the six men around her dominated the space, seeming to swallow it up and leave her breathless, but in a good way. She was reassured by their presence as she walked beside Kriss and moved closer to his parents.
He bowed down on one knee, and she started to do the same, but his hand on hers tightened in a light squeeze. She stood there, sure she wasn’t supposed to kneel on one knee, but also not certain what else she should do. When he inclined his head, she bowed hers as well, feeling like she should curtsy. Why hadn’t she thought to ask Kriss about etiquette? It had felt more natural with Marek’s parents, and that was ironic. The ice couple seemed warmer and more welcoming than the fire couple.
“Welcome to Celestina,” said Queen Risa. “We’re having a ball in your honor this evening.”
North’s stomach she jolted with nerves, but she somehow managed to force a smile. “That sounds just lovely. Thank you, Your Highness.”
She moved aside with Kriss as the others bent on one knee before the king and queen—except Marek. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back and inclined his head, but made no further signs of subservience. Surely that was because he was a prince on the other side of their world, not because he was deliberately slighting them. She hoped, not wanting that drama on top of what was already happening around her.
Lyssa joined them a moment later, and she didn’t bother moving beside her parents. Instead, she walked straight to North and took both her hands in hers. After pressing a kiss to first one cheek, and then the other, she stood back with a nod. “Welcome.” Her voice was much warmer than the queen’s had been, and it underscored the fact the king hadn’t welcomed her at all. “I hope you’ll enjoy your stay with us.”
North nodded, feeling awkward. Was she supposed to curtsy to the princess as well? The men around her bowed their heads for a moment, so she did the same, though she was a few seconds behind them. When she lifted her face, Lyssa was smiling at her with kindness in her warm brown eyes. It helped ease her nerves some.
“If I can be of assistance, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
It was the opening she’d hoped for, and sooner than she’d expected. “If you wouldn’t mind, I could use some advice on preparing for the ball this evening. I’ve never been to such a thing.” She wasn’t sure if the reception Caius had thrust upon her the first night at the Great Hall counted as a ball, but she doubted it.
“Of course. I’d be happy to help.” Lyssa moved to her side, threading her arm through North’s. “I’ll show you to your room, so you can see what’s at your disposal.”
“I also have my trusty fae fabric,” she said with a grin as she smoothed her hand down the black dress.
Lyssa beamed. “That’s lucky. We don’t have any available to us here in Celestina, and I’ve never had a chance to travel to Earth or Tiranog.” There was a hint of bitterness in her words, and her lips firmed for a moment before she smiled again, but with less enthusiasm this time. “You’ll have to show me how it works.”
Before North had even a conscious thought, the dress changed to mimic the outfit Lyssa wore. It was similar in its structure, with flared legs and a cinched-in waist. The difference came in the color, because Lyssa’s was a fiery orange shade that was a perfect foil for her deep red hair. The fae fabric automatically chose a more flattering muted-gold for North.
“That’s fantastic.” Lyssa looked like she might jump up and down and clap for a second, but managed to regain control a moment later. “Now, let me show you to your room.”
She cast a glance over her shoulder, sure she shouldn’t be leaving the six men behind her, but had little choice in the matter. Lyssa had clamped onto her hand and was pulling her forward at a steady pace. It wasn’t painful or threatening, so it would’ve been rude to wrench away.
They moved to a discreet door under the staircase, and she sighed with satisfaction when they stepped inside what was obviously an elevator. “Oh, thank goodness. They prefer stairs—hundreds of stairs—in Haedra.”
Lyssa grinned. “It’s not eight-thousand degrees there, and no one wants to be climbing stairs all day in this heat and humidity.”
Her eyes widened. “Is it really that hot?”
Lyssa had a tinkling laugh that filled the lift. “No, of course not. I was exaggerating slightly. But it’s super warm here. I think I’m an anomaly, and one of the few fire beings who wishes it were just a little cooler.”
“Maybe you just have a taste for ice,” blurted North before realizing how awkward that sounded. Lyssa’s confused expression led her to quickly loo
k away and clear her throat. It was a relief when the door slid open a moment later, and they stepped out into a sumptuously decorated hallway that was similar to the Bolos’s palace, but with a different decorative touch.
About twenty steps later, they reached a doorway with a huge, wooden door carved with flames and skulls. There was an occasional twisting body visible through the flame, and though it was carved from something that looked like wood, it was still chilling enough to make her shudder slightly. “That’s an…interesting design.”
Lyssa frowned, looking disapproving.
North opened her mouth to apologize, afraid she’d offended her with the comment, but Lyssa spoke a moment later.
“I suspect Papa had something to do with the room choice.”
“What do you mean?” She followed Lyssa through the doorway after the other woman had twisted the knob and thrust it inward. The room inside was as luxurious as the rest of the palace she’d seen, but it was oddly cold for a fire beings’ residence. It wasn’t the temperature, but rather the atmosphere of the room. It radiated unwelcome, and there were more of those disturbing images carved on the fourposter bed.
“Kriss and I used to joke that this was the Torture Room. I suppose there’s nothing wrong with that, but it’s so dark. The theme, I mean. Of course, the lights work.” She reached over to flick them on as though demonstrating their usefulness, though there was plenty of light currently coming through the open windows. “Papa knows this place can be unsettling for some guests, so I imagine he picked it with that intent in mind.”
“I take it I’m not welcome then?” She asked lightly, but her heart started hammering in her chest.
Lyssa licked her lips, clearly searching for a diplomatic answer. “Papa’s stubborn and entrenched in his ways. He doesn’t trust humans, and he’s viewing you as a human rather than a Trueblood. I suspect he’s also fearful of the existence of another powerful Trueblood, and what it could mean if you fall into the wrong hands. We’ve maintained peace on our world, despite its tenuousness at times, and I’m certain he doesn’t want to go to war.”
She frowned, irritated by the king’s assumption she would just wage war for someone. “I wouldn’t help anyone do that.”
Lyssa’s expression was somewhere between pragmatic and pitying. “It’s possible you wouldn’t have a choice. That’s why it’s imperative that you stay safe, especially while learning as much as you can. Once you fully realize your power, we won’t have nearly as much to fear.”
“What if I can’t? I’m afraid.” It was the first time she had verbalized the words, though others had to have sensed her fears. “This wasn’t what I wanted.”
Lyssa nodded. “I understand, but it’s what you have. You have to make the best of it and accept what you can have… And what you can’t.” Her voice was rich with melancholy for a moment, and her gaze seemed to shift out of focus.
Her thoughts had clearly wandered somewhere else, and North couldn’t help thinking they had settled on Milo. That promptly reminded her of the missive she carried in her pocket. Pockets had remained in all the variations the fae fabric assumed, and the letter was still there. She pulled it out and held it out. “I have something for you.”
Lyssa blinked before looking down at the piece of paper on her palm. “That’s thoughtful of you.”
“It’s not from me.” With that cryptic statement, she dropped the paper into Lyssa’s hand and waited to see the other woman’s reaction.
At first, she paled, but then her face flushed. Her eyes sparkled, and her lips twitched, as though she was fighting back a grin. North had no idea what the letter said, but Milo must have found the words to intrigue Lyssa in some way.
After a moment, Lyssa schooled her expression into one of neutrality, slipping the paper casually into her pocket, as though the incident hadn’t taken place. “Now, let’s see what garments await you. I wanted to have more input, but my mother chose most of these.” She pulled a face. “Mother’s taste is traditional, bordering on plain old boring.”
“I can see you don’t share that problem.” North grinned at the orange pantsuit Lyssa wore before looking down at her own muted gold style. “I’m afraid I don’t really know much about this stuff. I haven’t had a chance to learn anything, and when it was just me and my dad, who never thought about adding fashion and beauty magazines or other literature to my education, I never gave it a thought. I just chose what was available and comfortable.”
“Fortunately for you, I have an eye for these things. If I could go to Earth…” She broke off abruptly.
“What would you do?” prompted North a moment later.
“I’d probably visit Milan and Paris and buy out all Earth’s fashions. Then I’d go to Glynwog, Tiranog’s capitol, and shop directly for fae fabric. But Papa doesn’t believe in leaving Celestina, especially since I’m the heir to the throne. He says it’s too dangerous.” She sighed. A moment later, with a small shake of her head, she walked over to what was clearly the dressing room and opened the French doors.
The space itself was as impressive as the one she’d used at the Bolos’ palace, but the offerings were far fewer and all rather plain, consisting mostly of a selection of dark neutral colors. North lifted a steel-gray gown randomly from the rack and couldn’t quite hide her distaste at the yards and yards of fabric that would cover her from the bottom of her ears to well past her toes. “Is that the style it’s supposed to be, or is it just too long?”
“Both. I guess Mother just took a guess. I’m sorry. She knew I wanted to be the one to select your wardrobe, but managed to find other things to keep me busy and distracted from such frivolous matters.” She rolled her eyes again.
“I’m happy to have anything to wear.” She almost meant the words for the queen’s choices, and completely meant them when it came to her fae fabric. Between that and her own possessions Carol Allis had purchased for her, she should be able to make do during the few days they were due to stay at the Drakkens’ palace.
Lyssa reached for a dark-pink dress on the rack that had less fabric than some of the others, but was still burdened with an excess. “I can fix this.” Concentration was visible in her expression.
North stood by, feeling that low hum of magic surrounding them. It felt much like Kriss’s aura, but softer, and screamed femininity.
Lyssa’s wings expanded, fluttering slightly without completely unfurling. A breeze blew up around them, but it wasn’t from any open window. It settled around Lyssa, almost teasingly running through her hair. A moment later, there was a flash like too much wood dumped on a fire, and North blinked as she coughed. A slight scent of smoke tainted the air, but it cleared when the cloud cleared. She expected to find Lyssa standing there with a scorched garment.
Instead, it had been transformed to a stunning white sheath with flames trailing up the side to the waist. When she looked closer, she realized the flames were actually flickering, and she reached out a hand reflexively in search of heat. There was none, and she wasn’t surprised when she thought about it. It had to be a magical illusion, but it was still enchanting.
“Would do you think?” Lyssa looked nervous, biting on her lower lip as she waited for the verdict.
“I think it’s amazing. Thank you so much, Lyssa.” She wanted to reach out and hug the other woman, but stifled the urge. North wasn’t physically demonstrative like her father had been, and it would take some time to feel comfortable engaging so intimately with other people.
“Terrific. I’ll leave you to prepare then. I’ve arranged for you to have a relaxing afternoon of pampering, because you certainly deserve it. I have a feeling we’ll all need it to face the ball.”
North stomach twisted with nausea. “Is it that bad?”
Lyssa smiled. “No. It’s just boring and stuffy. Everyone insists on etiquette and manners, so there’s no room for fun.”
“You can make some changes when you’re the queen?” North offered the suggestion hesitantly.
North shivered, but shrugged off the reaction. She knew better than to fear something just because it was ugly-looking. After her recent experiences, she was far more likely to distrust beauty and kindness than cruelty or open hostility.
Chapter Seven
The ball was as dull as she’d expected, and it was spot-on the way Lyssa had described it. All pomp and circumstance, along with pompous people who were busy judging her, monitoring her, and either looking down on her, or chatting her up as though she could do something for them. It was somewhere between boring and horrible.
Leaning against a post, she hid in the corner of the room for a moment as Kriss came to stand beside her. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “It’s almost over.”
“Thank goodness. How can you stand this place?” She gasped when she said the words, clamping a hand over her mouth. She really had to work on developing a filter now that she was around other people besides her father.
Kriss shrugged. “It’s home, and as simple and as complicated as that.”
North could relate, feeling a complex pull of emotions whenever she thought of her home. She’d been genuinely happy there with her father, even though it turned out he wasn’t actually her father. Growing up with him, unaware that he had kidnapped her from the Allises to protect her from their agenda, she’d had an enchanted childhood in the mountains. She’d also been lonely, though he did his best to be her friend and companion. He’d still been her father, and that hadn’t been quite all she needed.
