“Why is it empty?” I asked. My attendants and I had the carriage to ourselves, a new construct that smelled of fresh leather and wood. I saw my face in the glass, tinged with haunting sadness.
Winnie followed my gaze. “Appearances, Your Highness. The queen wished to give the impression of affluence.”
“Where have they all gone?”
The women of the carriage looked between one another, none certain of the answer. Their hesitation made me uneasy until at last one of them cleared her throat. “I heard they were sent to Woolsfell. Out of sight, baited with offers of fresh bread and venison.”
Florence was quiet, her hands secure atop a lidded wicker basket. She’d come back in the night, her body scrawled with intricate tracings as she snuck into my room to announce her return. She hadn’t uttered a word since.
The carriage veered left and began a steep, narrow incline. I put a hand on the wall, steadying myself.
At last we arrived at the palace gates, adorned for the occasion with long, flowing flags and wreaths of red and yellow roses. Music played within the courtyard, a full orchestra seated outside to greet every guest that entered.
“Your veil,” said Winnie, handing me a black-silver garment with golden charms. I put it on, adjusting so that I could see through the eye slits. It sat heavy atop my headuntil the handmaidens fastened the circlet to the decorations, which alleviated the burden. My entire wedding dress was covered with a similar fabric, hidden away from the public eye. “Remember, you’re not to take it off until you walk the aisle.”
Someone announced our arrival as we entered the courtyard, then continued for every carriage and rider thereafter. As we stopped, I was the first to exit; I took a hand, trailing my gaze up it to find one Guardsman Russel smiling back at me. My heart dropped, though I knew better than to expect the viscount, who made himself scarce since our rendezvous in the garden. He hadn’t even returned to his room.
Winnie kept up with me while my handmaidens lagged behind. Florence, on the other hand, was swift to disappear without a word. I knew I would see her again, come nightfall.
The palace loomed before us, its massive stone walls rising in cylindrical towers topped with crenellated battlements. Its architecture, along with the mountaintop location, told ancient stories of conquest and defense… Yet through the great entrance, the severity gave way to ostentatious display. Red carpets ran the length of the entrance hall, punctuated by accents of golden lotuses and religious iconography. High above, the vaulted ceiling bore fresh murals depicting the gods turning about one another as the sun and moon in the sky. Statues lined the walls between tapestries. Golden figures of past kings and queens stood in alcoves as though they were attendees of the wedding, all frozen in a moment of time. Some of the nobility within the palace gathered around paintings, discussing the worth of the art more than the meaning within. Lesser nobles would bankrupt themselves to possess even one of the masterpieces.
The contrast between these delicate treasures and the brutal stone that housed them was like a warrior in a ball gown.
“This way, Your Highness,” Winnie murmured. “It’s time to greet your guests. I’ll talk on your behalf; you need only curtsy and smile.”
“They cannot see my smile,” I replied quietly, and Winnie shushed me.
“Don’t talk once we enter the ballroom. To your fortune, a princess may not speak at her wedding until she has married. As for the smile, at least let your eyes crinkle a bit.”
I rolled my eyes.
Winnie approached a set of carved mahogany doors and cleared her throat. The posted guardsmen opened the way, and as we stepped into the ballroom, I hardly had a moment to take in the grandiose setting. It stretched endlessly, polished floors reflecting the lights from massive crystal chandeliers that hung like stars from the painted ceiling three stories above. Golden vines climbed every surface like metallic ivy. Gilded mirrors lined the walls between marble columns, each taller than oaks, the surfaces multiplying the space into infinity.
We were quickly swarmed. The tactful kept their distance and waited for their turn, but the eager formed a line. Between greetings, I let my gaze wander up the stairs, pausing on the second balcony. There stood Quinn, watching from a distance. He was particularly striking in a crimson brocade jacket, the rich fabric adorned with intricate floral patterns. A deep scarlet collar framed his open shirt beneath, showing his chest in typical Hadrian coquetry. I might’ve admired him longer, were it not for his brooding expression. He was visibly consumed by darkness.
Winnie cleared her throat, regaining my attention. “I present to you Emperor Emil Irjuul of Korosa.”
A man of towering height stood before me, the impressive bulk of him promising such strength that he might tear me in half with his bare hands if he desired. Long, blond braids dangled from his head, half-matted in locs, and his beard hung just as long. He had a glower that could melt ice, one blue eye and another brown, as he placed a kiss upon my ring.
“Princess Alana Chastain.” The emperor’s voice was so low it sent vibrations through my bones. “Your eyes promise such beauty beneath your veil. They’re as blue as glacial lakes, utterly piercing.” He stroked a thumb over my knuckles. “And so very sad.”
I glanced at Winnie for assistance, but she was too alarmed by the sheer size of the man to do anything other than crane her neck.
“I shall pray that you are worshipped by your prince, and if such justice cannot be done, let the Lord of Night deliver you swiftly to me. I could use another wife.”
I delivered an unseen kick to Winnie beneath the width of my wedding dress. Winnie blushed, cleared her throat, and took me bythe arm. “Her Highness appreciates your compliments, Emperor Emil, and wishes you good health.”
The emperor stood before me a moment longer, as if deliberately attempting to unnerve me. He had a menacing air about him, like someone who enjoyed a bit of trouble and had the confidence to seek it out. Eventually, however, Emil bowed and took his leave, seeking the arm of a woman. I surmised that to be his wife, but I gave Winnie a glance just in case.
“Yes,” she answered. “That is one of them, anyway. Korosans take many wives. The stronger a man, the more wives he owns. Weaker men may only take the girls they meet on conquests.” Winnie rubbed her arm. “Emperor Emil has sixty-two wives.”
Sixty-two. Gods help me, I was struggling enough with the affections of two men.
“Are you hungry, Your Highness?” Winnie asked, strategically guiding me away from the crowd with a friendly, excusing wave. “You didn’t touch breakfast before we departed.”
I was only supposed to eat pomegranates and…oysters. I wasn’t sure I could stomach either. How was I supposed to eat anything? Nicolas was nowhere in sight, and somehow that made the whole ordeal a lot scarier.
“You should at least eat something before the ceremony. We can’t have you fainting.”
