I so wanted to laugh.
“Lady Bliss,” Queen Naveer said, drawing my attention to her. “Lord Bastian.” Her gaze slid past us to Dorion, and her jaw twitched. “Lord Vikire. I don’t believe I saw your name on my guest list.”
Dorion dropped into an impeccable bow and projected the perfect image of a bored noble. “My request to attend was approved. Check again.”
The queen’s expression didn’t change, but her chin rose a fraction higher. “It hardly matters. You’re also late.”
I inclined my head. “We were attacked on our way here, Your Majesty. But we’ve arrived safely.”
She said nothing. Just turned. The princess never looked up.
With a snap of her gown, Naveer crossed the foyer toward thecorridor on the right of the staircase. Her voice floated over her shoulder, utterly dismissive. “Don’t keep me waiting any longer.”
They vanished down the hall, and the silence they left rang in my ears.
Dorion exhaled. Reyla glanced my way. Farris slunk out from behind us where he’d remained hidden.
The servant cleared her throat and gestured with a pale, bony hand. “Follow me.”
We did, up the staircase, our footsteps muffled by a thick black runner. The castle’s upper halls were poorly lit, though every few feet, a candelabra flickered on small ledges or within alcoves. Windows had been placed narrow and high, set deep into the pale blue stone. A quick glance outside showed a deep valley cloaked in clouds and shadows. Mountains beyond. Clouds skidded across the half-moon above. Night had fallen since we’d left the carriages.
Portraits hung along the walls, figures wearing ornate clothing or gleaming armor. One painting showed a man wearing a crown so encrusted with stones it was a wonder he could hold his head upright.
We reached the third floor and the servant stopped at the last set of doors on the left.
“Your rooms,” she said curtly. “Lord Vikire in the first, the lord and lady in the second. You may join the others in the dining room if you can dress appropriately and quickly. Your luggage arrived long before you did, and it has been unpacked already. Do not keep the queen waiting.”
With that, she strode down the hall.
I waited until Dorion’s door clicked shut before opening ours and urging Reyla and Farris inside.
The suite was large and furnished in a way that was meant to impress, not bring comfort. Dark wooden trim. Thick, midnightblue drapes. Stiff, upright chairs. Not a soft throw in sight. It had been laid out in a similar way to most suites at Evergorne, though the bedroom was on our right rather than the left. I poked my head into the adjoining room, taking in the massive bed with clawed feet and a headboard carved with twisted trees. A mirror over the fireplace caught my reflection—Lord Rutherford’s reflection, that is.
It appeared solid. Good.
As I stepped back into the sitting area, the temperature in the room plummeted. Ice crystals spread across the windows in patterns that looked too deliberate to be natural.
Reyla spun toward me, already reaching for her blades.Lore?—
The mirror above the fireplace exploded in a shower of gleaming shards. I threw myself at Reyla, flitting us both behind the massive sofa as glass rained down where we'd been standing.
Magic crackled through the air, the scent of storms and malice filling the room.
“Prager,” I spat, raising a shield around us.
The attack stopped as suddenly as it began. The room fell silent except for the tinkle of settling glass as the shards lifted and returned to the mirror, resetting itself. A blink and it looked as if nothing had happened.
I scanned for threats but found none.
“A warning,” Reyla whispered.
Or a test. To see how quickly we'd react, what defenses we'd use. Prager was studying us, learning our capabilities.
The fire in the hearth sputtered back to life as if nothing had happened.
Should we ask for another room?Reyla asked.
I imagine we’ll encounter the same rats there as here. I’ll cast some new wards.Ones that should trip Prager if she tries anything like that again.
