I nodded back, hardening my resolve and fortifying myself for whatever royal insanity I was bound to face. When I emerged from my bedroom and entered his solar, Cyrus immediately looked up from his work and analyzed my appearance. I repeated Priscilla’s mantra internally as I straightened my back and ensured my face was wiped of all emotion, raising my chin defiantly.
Cyrus rose from his chair and sauntered over to me, play-acting at a blasé attitude, but the cracks of lightning that flashed through his eyes gave away his frustration. Those bolts of lightning brightened as they drank in my appearance.
“You look gorgeous as always, my dear.” Cyrus said as he gave me a satisfied smile, forcing me to push down the urge to punch him. After everything that happened—this was where his concern lay? Worrying about my appearance and showing off to his future wife’s parents that he had a slave that was up to their royal standards?
I didn’t bother to answer, and Cyrus’s face shifted into a stormy expression that screamed a warning loud and clear. He didn’t have time to waste on me, however, and we were soon hurrying down to the throne room, where Cyrus would receive the contingent from Dawn Kingdom.
I balked as we neared the throne room, my steps ceasing as I viscerally remembered what happened the last time I was inside those doors. Taking a deep breath, I forced down my tumultuous emotions—I had to pull myself together before facing the fiends of this court, I couldn’t afford anything less right now.
The throne room was packed full when we arrived, with courtiers lining the walls—an expansive selection of pink and gray gowns and doublets as the courtiers paid homage to their royals. There was the odd splash of other colors like the woman wearing a bright red gown or the yellow and blue doublet I spied on a man across the room.
Cyrus walked confidently towards the dais, not sparing a glance at his courtiers as he made for the other princes and the princesses who were in their regular positions, standing to the left of the thrones. I walked three steps behind Cyrus, counting each step to ensure I didn’t get too close before so many nobles. Every lord and lady of Dusk must have been called to attend court for this momentous occasion. I ensured the sarcastic sneer that wanted to creep out was kept from my face; I certainly didn’t want to experience the whip for the first time before this entire crowd. If Cyrus and King Astraeus were anything to judge by, I could only imagine how bloodthirsty their lords were.
I swept my gaze across the room to find the six lords and ladies of Dusk. It was imperative I gather as much information as I could during this event. I felt vaguely like a clock was ticking down on me, every second passing and leaving me more likely to be trapped under Cyrus’s control forever if I didn’t find a way to get out.
Lord Oditi and Lady Asra Otieno of Murias often attended court, as Murias lay not far from Evenfall. Lady Asra was the very redheaded lady in waiting that Princess Daneiris was going to accuse her father of cheating on the queen with, had Cyrus not exposed her scheme. Lord Oditi was particularly close to King Astraeus, so it would have been disastrous for them.
The other pair I had seen around the court were Lord Visita and Lady Nisha Umbra, who were also relatively close by. Their city, Falias, was south of Evenfall and came close to bordering the neutral lands. Lord Visita was a favorite of the ladies atcourt, and I certainly couldn’t blame them. Had he not been Fae and had Cyrus not been a concern, I may have joined them in their efforts to get his attention. He was particularly handsome, with his dark shaggy hair, sharp features, and golden eyes. I’d collected plenty of rumors about him entertaining various women around the castle, and equally as many about his wife. Lady Nisha had luminous skin that was a gorgeous deep brown, making her pale gray eyes stand out vividly. Her black hair was highlighted with blonde—a unique feature that only added to her striking looks. Standing next to her husband with his shining, golden tan, it was no wonder these two were so popular with men and women of every persuasion.
I was surprised to see Lord Aibek and Lady Siria were here, as when they came to beg for aid, Cyrus had sent his own commander to uncover the truth of the matter—sure that the attacks were a ruse and that their loyalty was not with King Astraeus. Considering they were in attendance for the arrival of Dawn Kingdom, Lord Aibek and Lady Siria must either not be aware of the close eye their royals were keeping on them, or unconcerned about it.
My gaze shifted to the nobles I could only recognize from what I’d read on them. My gaze immediately caught on the Lord and Lady of Eventide, the coastal city that brushed the Namminian Ocean. Lord Udaya and his wife, Lady Shirma Abital, whose union was a bit controversial at the time, since Lady Shirma was the only one left of her family who could rule their city when her father died. Women weren’t allowed to take up lordship however, meaning she had to quickly find a man who’d step in and marry her so she wouldn’t be displaced. Lord Udaya was the fourth son of a cousin to a lord in Sunset Kingdom, hardly the noble stock the royals of Dusk prized so highly. But Udaya saved her from losing her home, and by all of Cyrus’s accounts, they had grown a genuine affection between them.
Lord Udaya still looked like he had come straight from Sunset Kingdom, with his light brown skin and freckles that dotted the bridge of his nose and sprayed onto his cheeks from time spent in the sun. He had large earrings hanging from his ears, a traditional practice for men in Sunset and Sunrise that he still honored. Lady Shirma’s skin was lightly tanned, and her hair flowed down her back in big, chocolate waves. Her almond-colored eyes watched the room with calculation, where her husband leaned casually against the pillar with his arms crossed and a bored look on his face.
Cyrus strutted down the aisle leading to the dais his parents’ thrones sat upon, taking up residence beside it when he arrived. I cut over to the wall behind him, where the slaves of his siblings were already lined up. I could feel the burn of eyes on me, some with jealousy, but others with sympathy. They knew what Cyrus and King Astraeus had done in this very room—one of their own lost to the cruel machinations of the royal Fae.
My emotions were too raw when it came to Tavarius to allow myself to think of it now, and my eyes kept firmly away from the spot where Tavarius died.
When the king and queen were announced, they swept into the room with all the regality of their mantles. Queen Stelara was dressed more elaborately than I’d ever seen. Forgoing the pink and gray her people stuck to, she shone in a turquoise ball gown embroidered with gold across the bodice and—what seemed to be an entire garden on her pleated skirt.
Giant red roses, made out of a fabric that seemed almost life-like, were sewn into the skirt in a garish display. Gold jewelry dripped from her neck, wrist, and ears; the entire look was topped by the golden bejeweled crown sitting atop her wine-red hair.
King Astraeus, on the other hand, wore a brocade jacket in charcoal and gold, matching his mantle decorated with goldenchains and pink gems. His golden crown was a shocking deviation from his usual dark gray, even I had to admit he looked the very definition of kingly. But as I watched King Astraeus, all I could see was a whip in his hand and lightning crackling along his fingers—ready to kill once more. I couldn’t stop the involuntary flinch as he strode toward his throne.
I closed my eyes to take a moment and center myself while all the bowing and scraping occurred, taking advantage of my having to bow my head low to avoid the many eyes around the room.
“Rise.” King Astraeus said, sitting back on his throne as he waved a hand at the room at large, giving permission for everyone to stand once more.
Muted murmurs were all that followed the king’s instruction, courtiers tittered and whispered to one another as Queen Stelara drummed her fingers on the arms of her throne. Princess Daneiris was once more standing tall and confident, and I realized I hadn’t thought of her at all in the wake of everything that happened.
Old Gods, I needed to get back on my game. I should have considered the political implications of how the princess was dealt with, finding out whether she was punished or not—and if she was brewing up any new plans in the destructive wake of her last plot. I had let the importance of my own plans fall away as I fell into the black hole that had opened within myself. I couldn’t afford such a distraction, not when the state of the court could change in a moment, leaving my plans to crumble to ruin if something vital was missed or exposed.
Giving up wasn’t an option, that was certain. I would just have to work twice as hard to find the means to escape. It was more important than ever—this past week had proven that tenfold. I refused to spend the rest of my life stuck in this Tartarus onAdamah. I would not bow to Cyrus’s cruel whims, nor would I let his family use me as a disposable pawn.
I needed to thank Priscilla for lifting me back up and dragging me out of my desolate spiral. I’d underestimated friendship and the power that came from having the true support of another person. Priscilla had been there for me at a time when I needed her most, along with the strange hawk, who had offered surprising comfort. Despite the fact that it woke me from the peace and bliss the darkness had promised, if only we could break the barrier holding us at bay. I didn’t understand…well, any of it. Not on a conscious level, it felt more instinctive and surreal than anything I’d experienced, leaving me with nothing I could properly compare it to.
Only that my very soul seemed to light up within the darkness.
The darkness’s embrace offered a type of freedom I had never known and would spend the rest of my life chasing the feeling of. Like an addict smoking eclipse, the drug popular with those who frequented the brothels and gambling dens, who would chase the high of feeling like the world was eclipsed by euphoria.
I was distracted as the doors opened, and the herald began to call out the new arrivals, “Presenting King Tariq and Queen Oriana Bathala, and their children, Crown Prince Sulien, Princess Zerlina, Princess Sybella, and Princess Danique. Joined by Lord Eos and Lady Aurora Minenhle and Lord Vihan and Lady Tala Zoria.”
I was surprised to see how many had traveled from Dawn Kingdom for a potential betrothal. Paired with the speed of their reply to Cyrus, I wondered if perhaps Dawn’s royals were already looking to strengthen their alliance with Dusk. Before that doomed night with Tavarius, I had gotten reports from Cyrus’s spies that there had been a particularly nasty attack on Dawn. In the wake of it, they were surely feeling more vulnerable than normal. Royals never wore vulnerability well.
The king and queen of Dawn walked down the aisle leading to the thrones their counterparts currently sat upon. King Tariq was dressed in Dawn’s colors, his jacket made of red velvet with gray accents. Queen Oriana was decked out in a red ball gown, similar to Queen Stelara’s in shape, only hers was encrusted with diamonds and ruffles bordered her hips. The color of her gown complimented her beautifully—the contrast against her light blonde hair stunning.
Crown Prince Sulien was younger than his two older sisters, but by virtue of being male and the gods chosen heir, he walked directly behind his parents. His chin length blonde hair and citrine eyes made him particularly striking. He was incredibly handsome, yet I found myself wishing for silver-white hair and purple eyes. I shook the thought from my head—no good would come from that. Still, I found that I couldn’t help staring at the prince, though neither could the women beside me. At least until Prince Sulien’s eyes wandered toward me, stopping right on me. I stiffened slightly as he shot me a small smirk.
