Lore and I linked hands, each of us channeling a bit of our power forward to wrap around Briscalar.
His face darkened. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Nothing is needed, Highest Lord Briscalar,” I said with a smile. “Rise as the herald presents you to our court.
“Hail, Highest Lord Briscalar,” the herald intoned.
Cheers echoed in the room.
“Thank you, my queen. My king.” After bowing again, Briscalar strutted from the dais and back along the aisle, moving to stand beside Talvon again.
We’d strategized as we bathed and dressed, and decided the best way to handle Erisandra’s escape was to act as if we weren’t concerned about it at all.
“This court is now in session.” Lore waved for the first supplicant to be brought forward.
All heads swiveled toward the entrance as a woman entered. Her hair was pulled back in a cascade of intricate braids that framed her regal features, and she held her head high, daring anyone to challenge her. The fabric of her gown shimmered in the low light, rich hues of deep blue and gold highlighting the sharp angles of her face. She strode down the aisle and came to a stop at the end.
Before she could speak, the chamber doors banged open behind her, crashing against the stone walls.
Gasps whipped through the room like flames on dry leaves.
The woman peered back and shrieked, staggering sideways, nearly falling over a man seated nearby.
Erisandra staggered into the throne room, her wild appearance catching the attention of everyone present. Her once-pristine gown hung in tatters, exposing bruised skin smeared with dirt. Her hair draped around her shoulders in thick knots. Gone was the woman who'd glared at me with snide dignity.
When she reached the end of the aisle and the open area before the dais, her head snapped up. The feral gleam in her eyes forced the air from my lungs.
Lore stiffened, his inhalation loud in the looming silence. “What in all the fates…”
With a scream, Erisandra barreled across the open area.
Cries surged among the lords and ladies, some leaning back as if her madness might harm them, others craning their necks to make sure they didn’t miss any of the latest scandal.
She came to a stop several feet from the steps, swaying as she focused on Lore.
“You will not win.” Her voice cracked, but its strange cadence rattled through the room. “There is not enough time, do you hear?” A shrieking laugh tore from her throat, clawing across my goose-pebbled skin.
Lore left his throne and stepped down from the dais. I followed close behind.
“Mother,” he said carefully, stopping a few feet away from her. He stared at her face, maybe searching for the woman he'd adored all his life. “What happened?”
Her head snapped back as though struck, then forward again, and she caught both him and me in her penetrating gaze. “Escaped. Had to, son. I had to tell you—” She screeched, ripping at what remained of her gown, smacking her limbs.
Was this some sort of…warning for us?
The air snapped, and her voice deepened to a guttural snarl. “You cannot holdme. No one can.”
There was something very wrong here, and not only in her appearance and the rabid way she behaved.
I drew both daggers, the scrape of steel against scabbard comforting, and angled my body between her and Lore.
“Guards,” I said, my voice shaking. “Attend us.”
Weapons hissed through the air as the soldiers closed in, their hands pulsing with summoned magic.
Erisandra's scream tore through the room, the sound sharp, jagged, and ending in a bird-like caw. It bored into me like shards of broken glass. Her body pitched forward as magic crackled in wild arcs around her. Everyone in the throne room seemed to hold their breath.
She dropped to the ground and writhed, her skin flashing to black feathers and back again until she morphed into a…crow.
