Silver streaks through the corner of my vision as she plucks an object from the table and breezes toward Oraphia, presenting it in an open palm. It’s a hair comb—a heavily bejeweled thing. A silver upturned crescent moon, encrusted with hundreds of tiny moonstones.
Stealing it from my lingering stare, Oraphia places it into myhair with a small wiggle. Her pockets rustle as she fishes about for a few hair pins.
“Will you be there? At this coronation?” I ask as she works a pin into my hair, locking the silver piece in place.
“Oh no,” she laughs. “Though if we finish quickly enough, we might steal glimpses into the ballroom. But we’ve a fair bit of work to do. We have to get your quarters moved.”
“Moved?”
I make the mistake of trying to turn.
Oraphia offers me a gentle smile as she stops me, once again turning my head forward.
“Yes, moved to the western wing along with King Alaryc. I think you’ll find the marital quarters of the castle provide a much nicer view of Ollora,” she answers, fastening yet another pin.
“What will happen to these quarters?”
I’ve become quite attached to them.
And Eve’s quarters are down the hall. The idea of not being close sends a sharp spike of worry through my chest.
“These quarters will be prepared any time you need them,” Oraphia answers. “They’ll become guest quarters.”
“And Eve? Will she be moved too?” Despite my best effort, my tone is laced with underlying concern.
“Lady Eve was asked if she wanted to be relocated closer,” Oraphia replies. “She has requested her current quarters remain hers.”
I pause, fighting the immediate reaction ofhurtin favor of logic and understanding. She doesn’t need to be as close… not since having learned to ferry. I suppose we can’t remain like we’d been in the temple forever…
Oraphia taps my shoulder, tearing me out of my thoughts.
“Up now, Queen Ves,” she says. “It’s time to get you into your dress.”
As I stand, Raevi appears before me, clutching a black box against her chest. Not obsidian, I realize. But paper.
“You’re going to love the shoes,” she says, smiling.
Lifting the lid of the box, she pulls it away, revealing the prettiest pair of black silk shoes I’ve ever seen.
?????????????
If Oraphia had been a second slower in ushering me from my quarters, I would have ripped the sheet from the standing mirror. I can’t help but feel ostentatious—I’ve never worn a dress with a train of this length. It calls for attention in ways I’ve never sought. Not being able to see myself lends more credibility to my thoughts than I’d like and feels like punishment.
Raevi and the two other attendants follow in my wake as I walk, the sound of my shoes filling the hall with an even, steady rhythm. Arms filled with black silk and lace, they follow in absolute silence.
“You’re to wait for King Alaryc in the foyer,” Raevi says, her voice quiet as we round the first landing of the stairs.
Her voice isn’t the only I hear. Others float up from the foyer below, as if there’s a dozen muted conversations happening at once. Castle staff? It’s hard to say—no single voice is distinct enough to recognize.
“Once the foyer clears, he’s requested you enter the throne room together,” Raevi continues with a small, soft smile.
“Is he already waiting below?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder.
“No.” She shakes her head. “We’re to let him know once you’ve arrived.”
Perfect.
Once they leave to retrieve Ryc, I’ll slip into the study on the ground floor—the one with the tall standing mirror. A line of black clad castle staff stream up the stairs. Their heads and chins dip as they pass, offering low greetings ofYour Majesty,my queen, orQueen Vestaris.
