And that would be that.
ChapterThree
Taelon didn’t arrive until much later that afternoon. I did see him, but only briefly. Tyrn asked me to stand at his side while we welcomed the arriving monarchs.
We spent the afternoon in the great hall, welcoming delegation after delegation. Unlike Conandra, when it had just been the ruling kings and queens, this affair brought out entire families. My royal peers, whom I hadn’t seen since I was very young or had not yet met as they were younger than I was.
All of them had a similar reaction as Caspian. I was ogled and examined and silently assessed. And ultimately judged lacking.
When we were younger, my brothers, sister, and I had been at the top of the royal hierarchy. As children of the Seat of Power, we were looked up to and revered. But my peers had not spent the last near-decade in a rustic monastery on the edge of the realm. And so were shining diamonds of elite education and exemplary etiquette.
I, on the other hand, at least if their snobbish sneers had anything to say, was one step above a milk cow.
Of the Nine Kingdoms, Barstus, Vorestra, and Blackthorne were absent from the procession. Barstus had been delayed en route by a wobbly carriage wheel, Vorestra had already arrived, and Queen Ravanna couldn’t be bothered with a tedious display of honor for a king she did not respect.
Tyrn didn’t come out and say that. But he didn’t say that either. Queen Ravanna had been to Elysia more than once since my trial. I hardly saw her while she was here. But I suspected neither did Tyrn.
Initially, Tyrn had told me she would be in charge of my tutoring as I stepped into being queen. But all the original plans for my education, coronation, and responsibilities were put on hold when a mysterious crisis removed Ravanna from residence. As she remained unreliable when she would come and go, Tyrn had also pushed my coronation back to my eighteenth birthday.
He'd claimed it made more sense for the health and trust of the realm. But I suspected it had more to do with what Ravanna had going on in Blackthorne than my age or maturity.
When the herald announced King Hugo and Queen Anatal, I rushed to them. Anatal swept me into a hug, and I felt warmth bubble all over me at just being in their presence. They were safe, and kind, and something absent in my life whenever they weren’t around. Taelon stepped up behind them.
“Stranger,” he murmured in that deep rumble that made me warm for entirely different reasons than his parents.
I pulled away from Anatal so I could offer a very proper curtsy. “Rebel.”
His face broke into a tender grin. “It’s good to see you, Tessa. It’s been too long.”
Searching his face for hints about his recent activities, I noticed bags beneath his startling blue eyes and a small cut over his left eyebrow. It was almost healed now, but I wondered what it meant. “Well, we’ll have time to catch up now,” I said brightly, knowing everyone in the room was listening. “Are you planning to stay for the duration of the festivities?”
“For most, yes. I hope you’ll save a dance for me tomorrow evening.” His gaze heated. “Or two.”
“Or all of them,” I said with a dreamy smile. “Since you are no doubt the only one willing to tolerate my clumsy feet.”
He took a step toward me. “If memory serves, my lady, you are too hard on yourself.”
I stared up into his handsome face, his hair slightly disheveled from the journey, his jaw a little darker than normal, and wondered how I could have borne these last several months without him nearby. How could either of us tolerate the distance? And how would we go back to separate kingdoms once this pomp was over?
My uncle cleared his throat. It dawned on me that Taelon and I were standing there, staring at each other, in a room full of royals and dignitaries and servants.
“If you’re quite finished,” Tyrn sniped. I retreated to his side. He waved a hand toward the corridors Oliver and I had explored last night. “We are glad you have arrived safely. Dinner is in an hour. A footman will arrive to escort you. The whole family is welcome, of course.”
The younger Treskinats were entering the room, surrounded by an army of nursemaids and servants carrying bags. I waved at Taelon’s younger siblings with a smile bright enough to cover Tyrn’s annoyed tone.
It was no secret how my uncle felt about children. And Hugo and Anatal had more than most.
Except for the king and queen of Barstus, who seemed to be trying to have enough children to build an army.
We said our goodbyes, and Taelon and his family were led toward their rooms. That seemed to be the end of the curtsying and smiling. At least for now. But then Ravanna Presydia appeared from the other direction.
A chill rolled through me, chasing away all the warmth Taelon had brought with him. If Taelon was like the sun, Ravanna was an eclipse—blotting it out entirely. We were enjoying summer and plunged into dark winter at her presence.
And she looked as cold as she came off. Dressed only ever in black, today she wore a full skirt that made her waist look minuscule—as I’m sure was her intent. From her right hip, black gems made a sweeping pattern to the hem, swelling and then shrinking like a fat bird’s feather. Her corset top was tightly fitted around her torso and bust and decorated with matching onyx jewels. The black stones of Blackthorne. Her kingdom was famous for them although they were not worth much. Her arms and chest were covered with a gauzy mesh overlay that gave the appearance of modesty but was somehow the opposite.
The black, whether it be her voluminous skirts or the thin, see-through material of her top, starkly contrasted her pale, porcelain skin. But it was her bright red lips that made the most shocking contradiction. She was as stunning as she was frightful.
“Tyrn,” she purred, timing her entrance just right to be alone with us.
