“We’re done,” Rissa assures her with a friendly smile.
But that smile fades when she stops quickly in front of the flaps, nearly causing me to run into her. I jerk to a halt, blinking at her in surprise.
Her voice drops quieter again, and she pins me with a fierce look. “As soon as we get to Fifth.”
I nod warily.
I can tell she’s reading my expression, my body language, weighing my words, double checking that my promise is sincere. She’s close enough that I can feel her breath on my cheek, her own face lit up from the campfire beside us.
“Don’t go back on your word, Auren,” she murmurs to me, a dangerous fire in her voice—one that I helped to spark. “If you do, I’ll make a better deal with someone else.”
She turns and slips into the tent without another word, leaving me in the snow, stuck to sweat in the middle of her promised threat, wondering which of us will end up burned.
Chapter 18
QUEEN MALINA
The atrium is my leastfavorite room in the entire castle.
I liked it here once. When it was full of the plants that my mother tended, when the air was brimming with soil and flowers andlife.
Now, it’s a tomb.
Hundreds of plants, all dead, all stuck inside their gilded caskets. With the open dome ceiling made entirely of glass windows, there’s no escape from the gleam as the gray, cloudy daylight filters in.
Every plant I walk by is a memory.
My mother’s fingernails lined with soil, her smile when she placed shears in my hand. The way she hummed as she walked, aisle by aisle, watering every rosebush and sprout.
I loved it then. Now, it makes my skin crawl.
Of course, as the ruling queen, I’m forced to come here more often. As luck would have it, it’s always the one room that visiting nobles want to see.
Lady Helayna stops, skirts brushing against the perfectly arranged tulips, some of them still drooping slightly from the weight of their petals.
Eyes gleaming, black hair perfectly shiny and swept up into a loose bun, this pristine countess belongs to one of the wealthiest families in Sixth Kingdom, and now, she’s the head of it. A rare position of power for a woman in a strong family.
“This is extraordinary,” she says, her eyes holding wonder as she looks up at the solid gold fountain.
I try to see it from her viewpoint, her fingertip dragging across the stagnant ripples. The water’s descent is frozen in time, the continuous stream like golden curtains.
At the bottom well of the fountain, there’s a splash that will never settle, water that will never again be clear and cool, or pure enough to cup your fingers in and drink. Water that once spewed from the top is now caught in a graceful arc, solid gold rivulets as thick as my arm.
“So perfect, Queen Malina. So utterly captivating.”
“I’m glad you enjoy it, Lady Helayna. I should have invited you to Highbell ages ago.”
“Yes, well, I’m so glad for the time to do such things now.” She smooths the front of her black dress, my eyes following the movement.
“How are you faring?” I ask as I purposely start leading her away. The wind has begun to howl outside, snow battering against the window panes like the angry fists of ghosts. Further proof that this room haunts me.
Lady Helayna fidgets with the gauzy fabric that’s tucked into the high collar of her dress. The mourning veil will be worn over her face for a month, only to be taken off in the confines of her home or in the presence of royalty.
“Oh, I’ve been managing, Your Majesty.”
Our heeled footsteps echo in the large space, and even though all I want to do is run out, I manage to lead her away at a respectable pace. Although, when she stops at the vines draping down the wall, I clench my teeth.
“I imagine it’s been very difficult since your late husband’s passing,” I say gently, cupping her elbow in a show of remorse, when really, I do it to pry her away, to keep her walking.
