“It is a place where slavery doesn’t exist. Where you aregiven a choice over your life—where everyone is kind and I can write my freedom on my heart for all to see. For meto choose.”
The words echo Vidalena’s parting song. But knowing Estela said those words, to spread my home—our home—as a place of peace, makes a lump form in my throat.
“Then you shall come with us,” I say.
Ayla looks at me, confused.
“Hmm, perhaps I would like to come to this mountain, too,” she says through slitted eyes.
I nod.
“You all may come to my home.”
Chapter 19
Yugawaralite
ESTELA
Idon’t know what I expected from the coronation, but it wasn’tthis.
Six women are seated around the back of the throne, flanked by the strongest warriors in the giant army, all clad in their finest uniforms.
One look suggests that some of the women are gifts from neighboring countries or giant lords, as I see two green-eyed elves, two humans with light hair, and even an ogre with skin the color of moss growing on tall elms.
All of them have been stuffed into the same pixie outfit that I wear, though their costumes are gold.
We are all little trinkets for the new king.
My shoulders tighten as I observe them kneeling upon velvet cushions with gold tassels, their heads bowed, and hands folded neatly in their laps.
The Enduar head is still positioned behind the back of the throne, and it adds heat to the boiling in my blood.
I force myself to take another long look at the face of the young man who sacrificed himself for his people.
For me, and my right to a better life.
So help me, I'm going to snatch the grotesque display away and burn it. His body was already given a proper burial, and I don’t ever want his family to have to look upon such an awful decoration.
As I plot, the diamonds on my dress mess with my head. They play a low song, too quiet for the others to hear, that makes my brain pulse.
“Oh gods, that is stunning…”
“...a hundred diamonds…”
A few giants take up a discussion of my outfit when I pass, and I can feel their gazes hot on my skin. It’s a special kind of torture to maintain my composure and sink onto my feather-stuffed cushion when I hear the tail end of a comment about “small tits.”
Aside from the white color of my dress, I am also the only woman with a chain and leash. My cheeks heat as the tether is attached to the throne.
A part of me wonders if Lord Fektir’s daughter will join us as she did during the court meeting. In truth, I do worry that she was murdered after that meeting. She wasn’t kind, but I have a hard time wishing death upon her when she was chained up, just like me.
It isn’t long after I’ve sat down that the rest of the guests are ushered in.
I sneak glances at their finery and am shocked to see the long, sweeping swathes of fabric glittering in the light of the polished chandeliers. For a culture that values wood so much, it is shocking to see how many gems are there—far more than the Enduares could have ever sold in fifty years.
It almost makes me curious.
That is, until Lord Fektir walks in with his wife in tow. My heartbeat takes off galloping when Fektir catches me staringat him, and he nods once with a mocking smirk while Lady Fektir glares at me with undiluted disgust. Her artfully painted red makeup pairs well with the scars on her forehead and neck.
