If this was the first time I’d thought I heard her, I would give up now. I’d chalk it up to exhaustion or paranoia or even wishful thinking, just like I did all the other times. This time, though, I’m determined.
I take a seat on the bed and close my eyes.“Aurelia?”
Nothing happens.
Fuck, maybe I’m not being specific enough.“Aurelia, if you can hear me, come out of the bathing room.”
I wait, holding my breath this time, but nothing happens. Then, I hear the tap turn off. My stomach leaps, and my heart starts racing. I sit straight up staring at the bathing room door.
But seconds tick by and the door doesn’t open. After two minutes, I relax, slumping back onto the bed. She probably just turned off the tap because the bath was full.
Fuck me.
I can’t think straight. Maybe I am exhausted, and that’s all there is to it.
Later that evening, Aurelia and I follow another servant back down the gleaming white hallway.
I shift uncomfortably, tugging at the tight silk sleeves of the jacket I let Aurelia talk me into wearing. I hate this place.
I didn’t notice until Aurelia started sorting through the dresses the queen sent her that I’d been given dinner clothing as well. None of it fit correctly; every jacket was too tight, and the seams strained across my chest and upper arms. The trousers were laughably short, barely reaching my ankles.
“Wear your own trousers and leave the jacket unbuttoned,” Aurelia said, doing her best not to laugh at my bare ankles. “Wearing armor to dinner makes it look like you’re expecting to be attacked.”
“I’m always expecting to be attacked,” I growled, tossing aside a blue silk doublet. “It doesn’t matter where we are, here or back in Vernallis, I’m expecting to be attacked.”
“I don’t think that’s healthy,” she said lightly.
I ignored her, and picked up another jacket—white this time, with ugly gold buttons. “Where am I supposed to put a sword if I’m wearing this?”
Aurelia rolled her eyes, and lowered her voice to a whisper so low that I could barely hear her standing two feet apart. “I don’t think we’ll be attacked, but if we are, it wouldn’t be with a sword. This is one situation where magic actually is the best way to fight.”
I snorted in disbelief. Maybe she was right that Silvia would attack with magic, if she planned to attack at all, but I’ve fought fae with powers before. A sword is always the answer.
It’s pretty fucking hard to use magic without hands.
Still, somehow I let Aurelia talk me into wearing a too-small black jacket, and bringing only one sword to dinner. I regret it now as the tight fabric strains across my chest with every breath.
Aurelia also brought a weapon, but hers is better concealed. You’d never know it from her serene expression as she floats down the hall beside me, the train of her gown dragging along the floor, but she has one of the daggers I gave her last year for her birthday shoved down the front of her bodice.
I hope she won’t have to use it, but like I told her, I always expect the worst.
The servant brings us to a formal dining room, with a long table large enough to seat twelve, all laid out with silver plates and goblets.
At the far end of the table, Queen Silvia is already seated, waiting for us. She stands up when we arrive, her lips curving into a bright smile. “Welcome! Please, join me. I’m really so excited that you’re here.”
Aurelia steps forward, but my boots remain rooted to the marble floor, the weight of my sword suddenly more noticeable against my spine. “Where are the others?”
Silvia’s fingers lace together under her chin. “I thought we might enjoy a more... intimate setting.” Her gaze slides from Aurelia to me. “Just sisters. And you, of course.” The corner of her mouth lifts. “Though your companions are dining in the eastern hall, if you’d prefer their company.”
My hand finds the small of Aurelia’s back before I even realize I’ve moved. “I’m staying.”
Aurelia and the queen flash identical grins, and a shiver travels down my spine. Their smiles are the same, but their eyesaren’t. I wasn’t lying before when I told Aurelia I would be able to tell them apart in a dark room. As far as I can tell, they’re nothing alike—which is exactly what worries me.
We take a seat on the far side of the table near the queen. As soon as I sit, I close my eyes for a split second, focusing on that familiar pathway in my mind that connects to Kai. There’s nothing. Just hollow silence where his presence should be. My pulse quickens.
Before I can descend into further panic, a crowd of servants glide into the room. One carries a wine casket, others baskets of bread or fruit, and two are balancing a large platter between them, which holds a large roast pheasant.
My mouth waters. I love pheasant, and the scent makes my stomach clench despite my suspicion.
