Sunset was Leona’s favorite time of day. The blinding light began to diminish, turning the sky the color of summer cherries. The world was awash in a pale red haze, sparking the accents on the Rok estate as though everything was graced by tendrils of flame.
Leona basked in the warm glow, the last fading heat before the chill of night tainted the world. Too fitting that House Xin would be done in blues that mirrored her least favorite hours. She opened her eyes, staring at the archways curving over the balcony’s entrance.
House Xin. The name alone put a foul taste in her mouth. There had not been a whisper from Sybil in four days since she descended to Loom. What was taking her so long to find the boy?
Yveun Dono grew more impatient by the hour, and Leona couldn’t really blame him. She turned her head and looked into the room beyond—his drawing room. The King sat atop a raised dais. Behind him was an identical circle embellished with a gold band and even more circles ringed in gold. He looked as though he sat atop the earth, and the moons and suns rose at his back. Her King could pass for part divine.
“You seem cheerful,” his voice rumbled from across the room out to the wide railing Leona had made her perch.
“Dono?” She sat straighter, draping her legs on the inside of the balcony.
“You’re not one often caught smiling to herself.”
Leona pressed her fingertips into her cheeks, catching the offending emotion spread across her lips. Thankfully, it was just the two of them present, and she had no secrets from her sovereign. “I was thinking that it is a lovely evening.”
The King paused, looking out over the veranda where Leona sat. He considered the sunset as though he hadn’t even noticed the passage of time over the past few hours. His face relaxed, just a fraction. There were only a handful of people Leona suspected would notice the subtle shift in his brow that occurred when the King transitioned from their supreme leader to just a man.
“I suppose it is a nice evening.”
Leona averted her eyes, focusing on the horizon once more. Her magic flowed hot through her veins at the King’s agreement; it churned in delight, sparking against his as he suddenly appeared at her side. He moved as effortlessly as the wind, as soft footed as starlight.
Her eyelids felt heavy as he ran a claw up the line of her spine. They were so close she could feel the air shifting from the movement, a hair’s width from her flesh. He still withheld his touch from her.Theywere nothing. But he was her everything—and what made them dangerous was that he knew it. His breath was warm on her cheek, the only thing he let touch her skin as his face hovered over her shoulder.
She waited for him to say something more. The silence held ciphers of truths that lingered between them, written in a script that neither knew yet how to decipher. This would not be the moment they were given sound.
Yveun Dono pulled away and returned to his desk. Leona continued to stare at the horizon. Neither said anything further until night had begun to overtake the sky.
“I think it’s time to dress for dinner,” he announced.
Leona rose to her feet a moment after her King stood, then crossed the balcony and fell into step just behind him. They left the room and she saw him to his chambers. His manservant took over and Leona was dismissed from her post.
She started for the dining room, taking back halls to avoid any other House Rok nobility. Coletta’Ryu would be about to dress as well, and Leona’s feet purposefully avoided the walkways the queen was known to haunt. It wasn’t hard. Yveun Dono’s sickly mate didn’t wander far from her bed or gardens.
She was halfway to the dining room when she heard the crack of a glider breaking through the clouds below. Leona rushed to the window and scanned the darkening sky. There was the telltale glitter of magic fading on the wind…
A single ribbon where there should be several.
Cursing, she made her way to the landing platform. All the while, Leona was waiting for the sound of more gliders, but none came. A total of five Riders had descended to Loom and only one had returned? Something was off—and Leona, as head of the Riders, would find out.
The platform was a wide, open expanse of cement. Ironwork weaved against tall grasses and wild flowers on the perimeter. The manor opened like the mouth of a fish gasping for water and Leona was equally hungry for information.
The Rider eased their glider onto the platform. It looked lonely as the sole vessel returning, its wide, golden wings dwarfed by the potential capacity of the landing pad. Leona raised a hand to her forehead, pulling away stray bits of garnet colored hair. A familiar woman released the pulleys on the back of the glider and hopped off with an exhausted sway. Bruises from the exertion of flying the glider quickly faded from her skin.
Leona crossed over to her. The Fen slaves stayed behind, waiting to service the flying contraption. They knew their place well and wouldn’t interrupt.
“Sybil.” Leona dragged her thumb across her palm. Her sister copied her, cutting a golden line into her flesh. The two clasped hands, gold smearing against gold before it could dissipate on the air.
“Leona To.” Her sister never forgot Leona’s proper title.
“You are…alone?”
“There has been trouble.”
Sybil—sweet, nervous, uncertain, aspiring Sybil. The girl nearly stuttered over her words. That was the moment Leona knew there would be no helping her from what awaited. Leona didn’t have to know what ‘trouble’ her sister was speaking of. This was supposed to have been a straightforward mission, simple enough that even a novice should have been able to complete it.
“Say no more. It is not me you will need to answer to this night.”
Sybil’s face paled at her sister’s severity; Leona could practically smell the fear radiating off her. She turned and started for the red room. It was the room Yveun Dono preferred for meetings he wasn’t looking forward to.
