‘But being diplomatic to Danté? That’s one request too far.’
Matthias barked out a laugh as the soft tread of his boots faded down the corridor, and I chanced a hazy peek over my shoulder.
He didn’t look back.
CHAPTER 16
Vyrus mourned the loss of his wife, his soul, his heart. He stared in desperation at the cosmos he’d created for Evella and cursed the cancer of Eusis. As he sat alone, his heart decaying, there was only one path left for the creatures Evella adored more than him.
Destruction. Annihilation. Evisceration.
— THE HISTORIES AND PROPHECIES OF THE STAR-CROSSED GODS: CHRONICLES OF VYRUS
‘There. You’re stunning. A true queen.’
‘Are queens supposed to wear ferocious scowls?’ Asher asked from the doorway to my chambers.
I glared at his hazy form reflected in the huge gilt mirror where I was, indeed, scowling. Skye tensed at the captain’s voice. My gaze flicked to gauge her expression in the mirror, but the dancing shadows veiled her response.
‘It proves she’s missing Matthias,’ she said, straightening a breathtaking ruby at my throat.
I swallowed against the sting his name wrought in my chest. I’d spent the last few nights staring at the blurry crescent moon, waging war with sleep, wondering if it would have been so bad to just kiss him.
Asher pushed off the wall, entering the chamber. I wasn’t sure, but I doubt his gaze left Skye.
‘As she’s about to spend the evening with Duke Danté Lommond, it also proves she’s an excellent judge of character.’ He tipped his head to the side, a sly grin on his face, his coils shining in the lamp light. ‘Though, as Matthias instructed us all to be our most diplomatic selves, may I suggest swapping it for a smile?’
My scowl deepened. ‘Have you had the pleasure of Danté’s company before?’
Asher offered his arm to me, while Skye adjusted the crimson and gold sash she’d somehow persuaded Pablo to wear.
‘Thankfully, I’ve only suffered a single evening with him. Though I knew you and I were going to be friends when I learned you were directly responsible for the loss of his teeth,’ Asher said as I looped my arm through his, my other hand instinctively reaching for the comfort of the wolf’s fur.
I grinned. ‘Should we take bets on how many I can remove tonight?’
‘Sorrow!’ Skye admonished.
Asher barked out a hearty laugh. He offered his other arm to Skye, but she shook her head, her shining ringlets swinging against her blushing cheeks as she smoothed her dark green silks. I was tempted to knock their heads together, but didn’t know either of them well enough to grasp the whole situation. Perhaps I’d spend an evening with Skye and talk.
I blinked. Was I actually considering friendship here? The familiar twist bit my lungs. I knew better than to allow anyone to unspool the safety I’d weaved. They were far safer that way.
The four of us were flanked by guards as we walked down a corridor I didn’t recognise. Skye was a living, breathing history book, explaining who’d commissioned each painting, bust or tapestry we passed. I was starting to understand why Matthias had chosen her to be my assistant. She was a wonder.
Asher squeezed my hand lightly as I tensed among the blurry unfamiliar surroundings. With my sight gradually worsening as each year ended, I knew I had to allow myself to grow accustomed to this. During the accident, my head had smashed against a low bough as I fell, damaging nerves behind my eyes. I knew some day I’d wake and my sight would be gone. I’d done my research. There would be a sense of light, indistinct shadows, but everything else would be lost.
I’d long decided not to be scared, but to use unfamiliar moments like these as opportunities to develop the skills for maintaining my independence when that day came. Only, my body occasionally defied the logic and sent me into a panic.
Two servants came into focus, dressed in the finest scarlet and gold tail coats, pale hair slicked back and white gloved hands folded neatly. Asher nodded his head and the two grabbed the handles of the double doors leading – according to Skye – to the processional dining hall.
I sucked in a breath as we entered. The lamps had been lowered, I assumed, to give the hall an essence of privacy and congeniality. For me though, it meant entering a room with no clue as to who or what was there. The burning oil filtered with the scents of freshly opened wine. There was a scraping of chairs and I held my chin higher, clung to Pablo a bit tighter. Skye held back, but Asher remained at my side as a servant announced my arrival in a deep voice.
‘Her Royal Highness, Queen Sorrow Elmswood of Asmar.’
The absence of Matthias burned through my lungs, and I itched to feel his arm under my hand. My eyes adjusted, settlingon a long table laden with fresh white flowers, and set with a plethora of cutlery and crystal glasses reflecting the buttery lamp light. At each seat, a person stood, head bowed, dressed in garish finery. The scarlet dress Skye finally persuaded me into suddenly felt too tight, and I resisted the urge to squirm.
The silence stretched on and still they bowed. I blinked at the myriad of tailored tuxedo suits, ladies with mountains of blinding jewels. Asher squeezed my hand, mouthing my missed instruction.
‘You may rise,’ I called out, grateful for the steadiness in my tone as each head whipped up, gawking at their new queen.
