I swipe my eyes, trying to stop them from leaking. “Mom.” I lower my voice to a whisper. “I need you to hide. Just for a moment.”
She looks confused as I shuffle her toward the closet. I raise my voice to address Sef through the door. “Give me a second. Still getting into this dress.”
“Do you need me to lace it up for you?”
“No. I got it.” I open the closet and motion my mom inside. “It’s just for a minute or two. Please stay quiet. I’ll be right back.”
She’s so confused, she’s stopped crying. Still, she nods in confirmation of my words as I shut the door.
I drag my hands over my face a final time, drying it as much as I can before letting Sef in.
She beams when she sees me. “It looks even better than I imagined. You are a vision. Ready for me to do your hair?”
“Thank you. I love it.” I scramble for a way to get rid of her. “But I changed my mind about the hair. Do you think we could use those sparrow clips after all?”
Sef frowns. “You said you wanted—”
“I know, I know, but after seeing the dress on me, I really want those clips. If you don’t mind. Please?”
Sef sighs. “Of course. I’ll have to run and grab them. Give me five minutes?”
I hope my smile doesn’t look as strained as it feels. “That’s perfect. Thank you.”
When she’s gone, I let Aja out of the closet. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s all right. Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”
I wince. I want her here, with me, but today is Luc’s coronation—the day the plan I’ve been putting in place for weeks culminates. I can’t afford for anything to go wrong. Luc discovering I’ve been lying to him for years about my mother dying would ruin everything. “I love you, but no one can know you’re here. Not yet. After today, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”
My mom’s expression falls. “What are you saying? You want me to leave?”
“No. But I need you to. Just until after the coronation. Things are going to get complicated around here. But when it’s over and the smoke clears, everything will be different. Better. I’ll come for you then.” When I’ve stolen the throne, Aja will come to live with me, here in Widow’s Hall. Anyone who has a problem with it will have me to deal with.
The hurt expression on her face breaks my heart. “You don’t need me anymore.”
I hug her, squeezing with everything in me. “You have no idea how untrue that is.” I give myself ten more seconds. Ten seconds of being loved unconditionally, before letting go. “I love you. More than anything. Just wait for me, all right? I’ll see you tomorrow. Two days at the latest.”
I usher my confused, brokenhearted mother out the door, sending her away with a silent prayer. I’ve barely finished sobbing when Sef returns. She’s in a rush. “We’re running late.”She sets her supplies on my vanity. “Now, let’s get you ready to take over the world.”
The chandelier in the ballroom sparkles white and gold today. It glances off the polished floors, the pearls around the coronation guests’ throats, and the grease in Yelina’s wig.
Chairs fill the space before the stage. Luc’s parents sit in the first row. It’s reserved for important guests, and the seats are cushioned in velvet. I made the seating chart myself. There’s meant to be a third chair next to them, but it’s filled.
I’m annoyed, and my stomach is already pooling with dread at having to deal with this, but I fix my expression to be impassive as I stand before them.
Yelina gives me her favorite sugary smile. “Sorry, dear. The organizers must have overfilled the front row by mistake.” And then, because she loves nothing more than digging at me, she adds, “I’m so sorry. I was so looking forward to spending time with you.” This is for her audience’s benefit as much as it is mine.
I know she’s lying. She knows I know she’s lying. That’s the fun of it for her.
Heat rises, from fury and magic alike. I force my temper to cool. Today, it’s easier than ever to swallow my anger. For one thing, my real mother remembers me. For another, once my plans fall into motion, Yelina Kyler will eat her words. Choke on them, as I’ve had to do for years.
I give her my cheeriest smile. “Don’t worry. My legs are a bit stiff, so I wanted to stand anyway. I only came over here to tell you that your wig is crooked.”
She flinches, smile waning as she prepares a retort. I leave down the aisle before she thinks of one.
I watch the coronation from the back wall, amid other standing guests. Chattering quiets as Honorate Anleck steps onto the stage, followed by Luc.
In a typical Virdeian coronation, the reigning Praeceptor passes off a crown to his successor. It’s a purely ceremonial gesture. The crown itself doesn’t mean anything—we’re not a monarchy like Petruvia—but we like to uphold traditions and call it decorum.
