Queen Verina’s lips curve in a knowing smile as she sweeps her gazeover the assembled Hederan court. When her eyes land on Dante, that smile deepens. “It is my pleasure to meet your siren heir. I had wondered if the rumors were true.”
Dante inclines his head. “Your Majesty, I’m humbled by your reception.”
“This is your home, Lord Stregasi. Of course you are welcome here.”
I can’t help but gaze upward at the structure we stand beneath, taking in the details as Queen Verina extends her condolences to the king and queen for the loss of Torbin. This place is intimidating, and the thrum that comes with each gust of wind is almost hypnotic.
King Silas, ever one to redirect the conversation to his advantage, gestures to the coffers his attendants carry forward. “As a token of our gratitude for granting us audience, we bring gifts that reflect the beauty and grace of Messanya.”
The attendants open the chests, revealing an array of luxuries: strands of iridescent pearls, golden jewelry engraved with ivy symbols, and delicately crafted crystal chalices. When King Silas presents the dragon scales, Queen Verina’s expression shows that the gift was unexpected but appreciated.
“Exquisite,” she murmurs, running delicate fingers along the golden scale. “Your thoughtfulness does you credit, King Silas. I hope you find our hospitality equally pleasing.”
As her voice lingers in the air, my gaze drifts to where Queen Eleanor stands, her black gown a stark contrast to the shimmering brightness around her. Her posture is regal, her face carefully composed, but I know it can’t be easy for her to stand here. It’s no secret that Dante was born from the affair between Silas and a Messanyan siren. Whatever the truth of that past relationship, having to be present in this place must feel like a cruel reminder of that betrayal.
“And I see you have also brought Princess Celeste.” Queen Verina straightens her shoulders as she studies me.
I swallow hard and curtsey, unable to read her face. “Your Majesty.”
“Lift your chin, dear,” she says. “Youarewelcome here. Your father and I were not allies, but your brother did what he could to right yourfather’s wrongs. King Bennett was a good man, and I mourn his loss. May the gods gather you in their embrace so that your heart can heal.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” I swallow hard and fix my focus on the queen. Her words seem genuine, but I can’t help the guilty feeling that lingers in my chest, simply from being the daughter of a man who hated her people.
“I look forward to seeing what kind of queen you become.” She tilts her head, and for a second, her eyes dart to Dante. It’s almost as if she knows.
I know the king has forced everyone to keep the engagement secret, but maybe Queen Verina isn’t guessing his plan. She looks between Dante and me as if she feels our connection. But I’m in a mourning gown, so she dares not mention it.
The queen finally tears her gaze from mine and straightens her shoulders. “My esteemed guests, please allow my chamberlain to bring you to your rooms to freshen up. We have a busy schedule ahead of us.”
ChApter
Thirty-Two
The Messanyan and Hederan courts gather along a marble terrace suspended over a glistening bay. Above, gulls cry into the open sky, wheeling through bands of golden light as the sun rises over the horizon. A velvet wind sweeps in from the sea, rich with salt and the hum of magic, pulling in the roaring waves.
There are rows upon rows of velvet-cushioned seats filling the terrace. The center front seats are occupied by King Silas and Queen Eleanor. I sit to Eleanor’s right, hands clasped tightly in my lap. The carved, coral balustrade before us at the edge of the terrace glows faintly in the low sun, and below, the sea rolls and shifts in restless motion. Nadya sits close on my other side, her fingers twisting and turning in nervousness. She knows as well as I do that another trial is about to begin.
Below us, on one side of the bay, is a wooden platform that hangs over the water.
Dante, barefoot and bare-chested, casually paces the wooden planks, his dark tattoo contrasting against his skin already bronzed under the Messanyan sun. He wears only dark breeches that stop at hisknees and are damp against his muscular thighs. His hair is wet from sea spray, and he rakes it back to keep the strands out of his face. His muscles are taut, poised with tension, his expression unreadable as he waits for Queen Verina to speak.
She stands at the edge of the platform, facing the terrace, her stance and expression so confident, I believe even the sea answers to her. When she lifts a gleaming, silver trident, the crowd goes silent. I lean forward to inspect the weapon, taking in its blades that gleam wickedly in the light. It shimmers as though it’s encrusted with diamonds.
“In Messanya, the sea decides who is worthy.” Queen Verina’s voice is thunderous, though her tone is cool. She turns slightly, her gaze narrowing on Dante. “You seek to prove your integrity and earn the respect of our court. Then you must face the wrath of our tides and earn that respect from the sea.”
Dante stands tall, shoulders squared, and gives the queen a reverent nod.
If he’s apprehensive, he’s not showing it. In fact, he looks as if he simply wants to get this task over with. I clasp my hands tighter, feeling the unease for him.
“This is the trident of my ancestors.” The queen holds the weapon high again as her robes flutter behind her. “It will be taken to the secret caverns far beneath the sea. Retrieve it, and bring it back to its rightful place. Of course,” she adds, her lips curving with amusement, “our siren soldiers will ensure the trial is… thorough.”
From beneath the terrace, a wisp of a woman with a shaved head approaches them. Her deep-blue robe falls from her shoulders, revealing tight bands of cloth covering her body from her chest to her thighs. She wastes no time, taking the trident from the queen and running to the edge of the platform. She dives into the bay with breathtaking grace, barely making a splash as she disappears beneath the surface.
A low murmur ripples through the crowd. I spot nobles leaning forward on their cushions, their sea-green robes catching the sunlight.
Queen Verina extends her arm toward the bay and faces Dante. “You may begin.”
Dante nods once, and without hesitation, he dives. The sea swallows him whole, its surface barely rippling.
