It took work to keep my retort from roaring up my throat. “I wanted to invite you to join me for tea tomorrow.”
Hence the horig cakes.
A flicker to my left caught my eye, something shifting on the periphery of my vision. Distortions warped the floor's glass-like surface to my left. Meanwhile, Erisandra stood with a twistedsmile that remained devoid of real warmth. Fear gnawed at my gut, and I forced myself to blink, though the warping remained. Was she crafting another illusion to manipulate my perception? If so, why bother? Shifting images in the floor might trip me up or catch my attention, but I doubted they could do more than startle me.
“Is everything alright, Your Majesty?” Moira broke through my train of thought, her voice tinged with concern.
“Of course.”
“Tea?” Erisandra’s head tilted the barest degree in my direction, though her lips threatened a smirk. “My, my. An invitation from the duly crowned queen of Evergorne Court? How could I refuse?”
It wasn’t what she said but how she said it. Her agreement held no warmth, only a touch of conniving simmering below the surface. Whether I’d walked into her game, or she’d stepped into mine, I couldn’t tell.
The illusion in the floor intensified, a ripple of colors and shapes that seemed to fill the air with unspoken threats. Tendrils veined the surface, bright hues intertwining with shadows, creating an almost hypnotic energy. A hint of laughter hung in the air, a seductive whisper playing tricks with my mind. The colors deepened, whispering something I couldn't quite make out. Twisting reality, beckoning me to lose myself in its allure. My heart raced, and I could not drag my gaze away.
Vine-like projections coiled out of the floor. They slithered closer. Draped themselves across the tiles. Twisted across the tops of my shoes.
Binding tight.
My brain spun, but I was able to jerk my eyes away. Jerk my feet away.
It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real!
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Erisandra watching me with a smirk.
Damn her.
Pulling in power, I used it to lure in shadows, begging them to place themselves between me and the mirage. They thrust themselves between me and the vines, and the “mirage” recoiled, sinking back into the floor.
The tiles smoothed almost as if the mind-sucking illusions had never been there.
“Mid-afternoon?” I forced my voice to come out pleasant and not trembling from… Fury boiled through me, and I wanted to lash out at my mother-in-law, but that would put me right in her hands.
“Mid-afternoon will be fine.” Erisandra’s gaze darted to the doors that were now cracking open.
After flashing me a slick smile, she broke protocol that stated when the queen was ready to enter, royalty always proceeded any other person waiting.
With an upward twist of her mouth, she breezed through the now-open doors and into the throne room.
15
Merrick
My mother was an ass. If we weren’t related, would I find a way to love her? Her behavior since I brought home my queen battled with the softer, almost sweet mother I remembered from when I was a child. She’d changed after my father’s death, and despite my attempts to find common ground with her since, she’d turned into…whatever had entered my throne room now.
With a smile containing too much cunning, she strode forward as the herald announced Reyla.
I lifted one eyebrow. Mother’s gaze met mine, and she almost appeared chastened, before she smoothed her features into her usual, haughty mask. With her nose held high enough she might be able to sniff the ceiling, she strutted ahead of her ladies and guards, along the aisle to the seat she took in the front each day.
Those watching erupted into hisses, cackles, and titters.
My court was dissolving around me, and I couldn't determine how best to fix it. I needed to hand Reyla a court that could march forward, not one shattered by disarray.
Since I'd arrived from the port with Reyla, I'd been bracing myself for a confrontation with my mother, but it still surprised me how my hands tightened into fists as she glided toward her seat. Her ladies helped her settle and took seats for themselves around her.
It would be easy to let this slight go. Yet this court needed to know who was in charge.
It was not her.
