“I don’t know,” I say quickly, rubbing my fingers against my temples. “I’m not quite awake yet.”
“Well, there is no time for rest now,” she says. “The prince is back and you must attend to him.”
The queen glides towards me with an eerie grace, each movement slow and deliberate. Then she extends her long, bony arm, the pale skin stretched tight over knuckles and sharp joints, fingers tipped with talon-like nails curling in the air. A breath lodges in my throat when she reaches for me and an icy dread settles in my bones when she lays her hand upon my belly.
“If the Pale Eye is kind, you will give our prince an heir. That is why I must be sure you are healthy and well.” She scrapes the point of her thumbnail across my stomach and I shudder. “Human wombs can be ever so fragile.”
“Thank you, Your Highness, I appreciate that,” I reply, forcing the words through my teeth.
“Isn’t this nice? This is how I wish it to be always between you and me. You are not alone here, Amara. Even though it can feel that way sometimes. I am here for you.”
I nod half heartedly, but her eyes beckon me to speak. “Thank you, Your Highness,” I say again to appease her.
“Mother,” Lanneth says curtly. “Call me mother.”
My stomach churns and I try to keep the bitterness from my tone. “Mother.”
“That is what you will call me tonight, when the thrall houses come to banquet.” Lanneth snaps her fingers and the maids rally into action, some charging the wardrobes and pulling out a selection of dresses while others begin filling the tub.
I notice Solena lingering in the back, avoiding my gaze.
“Banquet?” I ask as I am flanked by maids eager to get my nightgown off. I shrug them away.
“Only our court was present at your wedding. It is time for all Mordorin of the Untold Sea to set their eyes on you. Now that The Warrior’s Eyes has passed, we can host our own celebration.” She arches a curious brow as I gaze vacantly. “You look lost, daughter. Bad dream?”
I meet her eyes, narrowing my gaze, wondering if she can read minds.
“Dreams in Baev’kalath can be treacherous things,” she sighs. “It is impossible to know in the endless night what is real, and what is not.” Suddenly, Lanneth grabs the hand behind my back and yanks it to her. Her eyes fix on the bandage, her thumb smoothing out the bumps in the fabric, and when her sleeve inches up, I see the band of lunar tattoos around her wrist. “What is this?” she asks.
I mumble nonsense, not sure what to reply as she unravels the bandage. When the last sliver of cloth comes undone, my skin anxiously prickles with the anticipation of how Lanneth will react when she sees my oozing wound, but when she expresses nothing, I look as well.
The cut has healed. But there is no slivery line scarred into the skin. In fact, there is nothing at all. The skin is smooth, untouched, as new as the day I was born. But how?
Queen Lanneth furrows her brow. “Remarkable.”
“Limmeth tea, your highness,” Solena calls from behind. “I prepared some for her after the wedding. It seems to have quite a miraculous effect on humans.”
Lanneth nods with interest. “Indeed. I will need to mention this to the druids.” She holds out the bandage and a maid quickly relieves her of its burden. “Now you must prepare for tonight. It will not be easy. The thrall houses will not take kindly to a human bride. But they are loyal to their king and their prince. Be silent and smile. Allow Daedalus to win them to our side. Do you understand?”
I don’t, but I nod. Anything to get Lanneth out of my chambers. At last she releases my hand and I can not wait to climb into the bath and wash her from my skin.
“I will see you tonight, Amara,” she says as she departs.
Solena closes the doors behind her before joining me at my side, our eyes agape and staring in awe at my healed hand.
“Is it truly the tea?” I ask, flipping it left and right, inspecting it at every angle in case I’ve missed something.
Solena shrugs. “Perhaps it is. But the wound was doing so poorly, and at the very least, it would leave an angry scar.” She exhales. “It’s a miracle.”
“I do not believe in miracles,” I respond, my bottom lip clenched between my teeth. “Only magic.”
The hours that pass are a whirl. I am bathed and dressed and escorted to the dining hall for breakfast. The king and queen are absent, far too busy with preparations for the banquet, and Daed does not make an appearance either. I eat alone and once I’m finished, I return to my chambers and go straight to the balcony. I do not even notice the icy taps of rain on my bare shoulders anymore. It has become as common to me as the wind through the trees of The Grove.
I grip the railing and my gaze finds Daed’s tower across the courtyard. His balcony is empty, and my human eyes see nomovement within the darkness of his room. But I can feel him. I feel his eyes watching me. Or is this another delusion? It is impossible to know the truth here. The smoke and shadows bend reality, making me question everything. Even things I know in my heart to be true.
What if itwasa dream?
Not just the demon from the darkness, but that happened in the prince’s tower as well? I wish Daed would step onto his balcony. I wish he would summon his mighty black wings and fly to me. I wish he would look at me with his eyes of the storm and tell me it all happened just as I remember it. Then I realize the confession I crave most. That it was him last night with his hands all over me, hungry for my skin, hungry for all of me, and my secret desire to have him break his promise.
