This was the price you knew you’d pay.
A knock raps on the door to the bedroom. I ignore it, but it comes again. “Your Highness,” someone says on the other side. “It’s urgent.”
I swing my legs over the side of the bed and throw a robe on before padding to the door. I crack it, careful to shield Cora’s nude form from our visitor.
“Your Highness, sir,” the messenger says as he bows his head. “My apologies, but the Panthera Court has arrived with urgent news. They request an audience immediately.”
Anger flares at the surprise visit. I stoke it. It’s so much easier than the abyss that beckons me every time I lay with Cora.
“What do they want?” I ask.
“I’m not sure, Your Highness. All they said was that it’s urgent. They’re waiting in the throne room. Would you like me to tell them you’re…” He glances over my shoulder. “Indisposed?”
I summon the writhing shadows that I rarely use and create the illusion of my own black aura. I hate using them, if I’m being honest. They remind me too much of the miseries that lurk in the depths of my mind. The male takes an involuntary step backward, and a corner of my mouth ticks upward in satisfaction.
“I’ll be down in a moment,” I say in dismissal, then shut the door behind me. Cora is up, already pulling a black gown over her slender frame. She looks over her shoulder and beckons me to help with the buttons that line the back.
I button each one, her knobby spine slowly disappearing with each movement. I don’t bother to ask if she heard what the messenger said. She hears everything. She is everywhere.
There is no escaping her.
I throw on my black trousers and the white linen shirt that’s now rumpled. A combination of fire and water is all I need to fix them, and I hover my hand over the wrinkles to smooth them out.
Cora watches me with a satisfied smirk. She steps closer, runs her long fingers through my black locks.
“So handsome,” she mutters before turning and walking out the door.
I shut my feelings away, forcing them into the room in my head where I send them to die.
Cora is already halfway down the hallway by the time I exit, but my long legs have me by her side in moments.
“Should we bring Elle with us?” I ask.
“Why?” she asks disdainfully.
“Why wouldn’t the High Queen be at this meeting?”
The truth is, it’s been about a week since I last saw her at our disaster of a dinner. Cora has kept me busy with her pets and useless tasks that have prevented me from visiting her. Even so, I’ve been keenly aware of Elle’s movements because of the necklace. She’s been a good girl—no murder attempts on the guards, no screaming at the walls, no attemptsto drown herself.
But her silence has been too loud, and every day that passes without seeing her makes my skin crawl in an unfamiliar way. An unpleasant way.
I can’t stand it. I need to see her.
“But they already know that’s not Mae,” Cora says.
“Do appearances no longer matter?”
She gives me a long look, but mutters, “Fine.”
We walk in silence to Elle’s wing. Two guards are stationed outside, one on each side of the double doors, bowing as we approach. I knock on the door, and as usual, Elle doesn’t answer.
“Why do you bother knocking?” Cora sneers.
Because I want her to choose to open it.
I ignore the question and open the doors. The answering stench is foul, like unwashed body odor and stale food.
Cora gasps. “What is that smell?”
