Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, willing away the familiar sensation of panic. Phantom pain began to creep up my leg.
Please, not now, I begged whatever Fates were listening. I had to keep control for these first few moments. Get past the introductions, the niceties, a quick dinner, then?—
“Breathe, Empress,” a voice murmured at the door of the carriage.
I opened my eyes to find long brown hair, a full beard, and blue eyes staring back at me. Thorne leaned in through the opening, barely a foot away. His steady breaths fanned across the small space and instantly banished the chill that had set into my bones.
“Heard you had a rough day,” he said, his voice slipping over me like warm honey.
That brought a scoff to my lips. “You could say that.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the line of strangers waiting to meet me. “They’re just people, like you or me. Don’t let them scare you.”
“I’m not scared of them,” I whispered, letting the panic flow out of me on an exhale.
He gave a small smirk and held out his hand. “Good.”
My eyes flitted from his face down to his outstretched arm, something buzzing along my fingertips as I let him take my hand. His skin burned hot against mine, and as the evening breeze hit me at the same time, aflush crept over my body.
The tip of my foot caught on the last step. My half-stumble caused our hands to press into his chest as his other hand came out to grip my arm. I sucked in a gasp and pulled away as pain radiated from the knife wound the assassin had dealt. Devora had bandaged it as best she could, but without my Shifter powers, I was left to heal the old-fashioned way.
“He hurt you,” Thorne said, a dip appearing in the space between his eyes. It wasn’t a question.
“I hurt him worse,” I replied.
His eyes searched mine for a moment before he took a step back, throat bobbing as he left me and made his way to the carriage behind us to help his mother and a young girl I didn’t recognize.
I went to stand next to Mother and tried to catch my breath. I searched for Galen, only to see him in a whispered conversation with two of the men waiting to greet us. All three of them bore expressions of frustration: clenched jaws, downturned lips, creased brows. The two strangers saw me looking and schooled their features into ones of neutrality. But not before I saw the narrowed eyes and brief sneers as they scanned both my mother and me.
Galen made his way to me, looking as tired as I felt. “Come, Clarissa—let’s meet the regent family.” He held out an arm for me to take, and I wrapped my hand around the smooth fabric of his tunic, squeezing my mother’s hand before she fell into place behind us.
With each step, I took a breath. I steeled myself and found the polished part of me that always lurked at the surface. My spine straightened and my shoulders loosened as we strode, my chin rising to meet the eyes of the Silenus family and staff.
What if they were the ones who ordered your death?
I shook away the paranoid thought. I couldn’t go into every interaction assuming they were all assassins. That was no way to build trust or an alliance. I had to be smart—win them over while still watching my own back. Vigilant, not cynical.
I was greeted with curt smiles and stiff bows, the guarded looks of people wary of an intruder in their home. I could understand that, and I didn’t fault them for it.
But I would prove I was worthy of more.
At the end of the row of men and women in servant uniforms stood a man in his seventies, with a significantly younger woman at his side. She held the hand of a young boy, maybe four or five years old, whose golden eyes gazed at us in curiosity. I gave him a small smile, which he returned shyly, full lips against dark skin curving up at me.
Galen released me. “Dion. It’s good to see you,” he said, tired but cheerful. He grasped the older man’s hand in his own.
So this was Lord Dion Silenus. He was about the same height as his wife, his back slightly more hunched in his age, with gray hair adorning the sides of his pale head.
I stood back as Galen shook hands with both Dion and his wife, Vespera, even getting on his knees to look their son in the eye. Air brushed against my back and a sickly-sweet floral perfume hit my senses. Azura and Thorne came to stand beside me. Thorne turned to speak with one of the guards along the path, leaving his mother and me in an awkward space of quiet.
Azura Reaux’s clipped tone sounded low in my ear. “I’m so glad you and your mother weren’t injured in the accident, dear. What an awful thing,” she said, clicking her tongue. I looked over to see her frowning in concern. “Is there anything you need? It must have been so frightening.”
“No, we’re fine,” I said. “Just thankful we all made it out safely.”
“Yes, of course. We are as well.” She put a hand on my shoulder. “But a word of advice, if I may.”
I tilted my head, my eyes flicking over her carefully fixed features.
“I fear carriages are not the only place you need to watch where you tread. Be careful in this kingdom, young Empress. Not everyone here can be won over as easily as our king.”
