I twitched, my spoon clinking against the bowl.
I blinked, once, then again, but I could still feel her watching me. Like I’d been marked. My flesh crawled, but I forced myself to remain still, to not let my unease show. I would not lose my grip in front of these people.
Lore eased my way.Reyla. Look at me.
It took considerable effort to drag my gaze from the portrait to him.
Are you alright?His gaze saw every part of me. He’d fix this. Destroy this place if I asked, but I didn’t want to get us into trouble. Not until that talisman was snug in my hand.
I shrugged and glanced toward the painting, finding the woman’s gaze pointed forward again. I told myself her eyes hadn’t moved. Of course they hadn’t. Paintings couldn’t shift. Yet I couldfeelher gaze as if she’d taken notice of me in particular and was deciding what to do about it.
Whispers slithered through the air, distinct from the dinner conversation around us.
Do you hear that?I asked Lore through our bond.
He frowned.Hear what?
She's trying to tell me something.
She?His glare took in the room, and his voice deepened to a raspy growl.Point her out, love, so I can kill her.
It sounds silly. I meant the woman in the painting behind the queen.
He stabbed his gaze that way before turning back to me.I’ve heard about Naveer’s mother, Queen Davalon, though I never met her. She married the king. She gave him a son and died not long after his daughter, Laphira, was born. Ignore her. Or, if you’d like, I could go over and slash the portrait to pieces. That’ll shut her up.
From his tone, he’d take pleasure in doing so.
I pushed for a low laugh.No need to do that. It’s nothing.
I won’t let anything or anyone harm you. Not here. Not ever.
The whispers had already faded, but I was certain I’d heard them.
I turned toward Dorion. “Did you see the painting move? Her eyes…”
He frowned and scanned the walls. “Which painting?”
“The one behind the queen.”
“Queen Davalon. Rumor says she practiced blood magic before Naveer pushed her down the front staircase. Some claim her spirit never left the castle.”
What?”
He snorted, though he kept it and his voice low. “It was never verified, of course. There were no witnesses.”
Interesting tidbit.
“As for the painting, I don’t see anything moving.”
I looked that way.
The painted woman’s eyes had locked on me again, and her lips had parted, though they remained unmoving. The whispers returned, and this time they seemed to crawl under my skin like insects, making my flesh peel away from my bones. A metallic taste flooded my mouth, copper and something rotten. My hands began to shake and sweat beaded along my hairline despite the cold air around me.
I clutched the stem of my goblet until my knuckles went white, the crystal warming from my death grip. My breathing came in shallow, uneven gasps that I couldn't control no matter how hard I tried. My heartbeat was trying to force its way through my throat. I wanted to run, but where?
It wasn’t easy, but I dragged my gaze away. I could still feel her eyes locked on me.
Lore took my hand beneath the table, linking our fingers. He leaned close, speaking in my ear. “Is the portrait still bothering you?”
