I swallow down another sip of wine before turning a heavy glare on Lyra. “Perhaps you should close your eyes when you see such things. It might do wonders for your overactive imagination.”
Her head turns slowly, those thick lashes framing her soft blue eyes flicking up to me. “Sometimes I see things even when I close my eyes.”
“Odd,” Aelia says between a chew. “I also have seen some peculiar things. The nightmares, they’ve truly been terrible. Last night I woke up screaming, and my lady’s maids had to come in and settle me.”
We both stop and look at her.
Lyra says, “Nightmares…about what?”
Aelia rolls her eyes playfully and flicks her hand. “Oh, nothing worthy of note. Truly, it's childish nightmares. You know. The ones with the monsters. You wake, panting and sweating, and when you check underneath your bed, you swear you saw something there. But the longer you’re awake, and the more you blink, you realize it’s only part of your imagination.”
She laughs, then her expression melts from humor to serious. “What? What is it? Why are you two looking at me like that?”
In unison, we both shake our heads before turning our attention to the food in front of us. Silence settles over us as the other women chatter.
“What? Is it something I said?” Aelia prompts quietly.
“No,” Lyra responds, a little louder than her normal tone. “No. I just…haven’t had any nightmares. But they sound terrifying. I’m sorry they’re troubling you.”
Aelia tilts her head to the side. “But…didn’t you just say you had been seeing things?”
Lyra smiles with a shaky laugh. “Oh, no. I’m sorry. Just…” she points at her head, “a silly, little overactive imagination is all. My mother used to say my head was filled with so many thoughts that they fluttered like birds and could someday take me away.”
Aelia frowns, not entirely buying it, but didn’t press. We spend the rest of the time chatting about different kinds of flowers they found in the gardens. Mostly, it’s Lyra droning on about their names, attributes, and the seasons they thrive in. It’s no wonder every dress she’s worn thus far has been adorned in flowers. She’s clearly obsessed with them.
She’d never last a day in my shoes. I bet she’s never even killed a person. Never had to look someone in the eyes during the final blow, even if it meant your life or your family’s was on the line. Depending on what trials we are to be tested with, I have a feeling she won’t even make it through the first one.
As we are dismissed by the dinner bell Lady Bethany rings, we all exit the dining room for our own quarters to turn in for the night. After a few minutes of quiet in my room, I open my door to find Devin is standing on the other side with a lifted fist.
“Oh,” he says, lowering his fist slowly. “I had come to fetch you.”
We walk in silence down the hallways to the office as we had the night prior. He stops at Cyrus’ door and knocks.
From the other side of the door, “Come in.”
The room is the same as the night before. The dark sky outside the window is peppered with distant stars, the Serahaven mountains spiking into the cloudless night. The lulling crackle of a fire in the hearth. Cyrus sits in a tufted armchair, the one next to the chair I sat in last night. His boots are perched on the ottoman, his head resting on a fist as he looks at the two of us expectantly.
Devin closes the door behind us and bows. “I’ve brought her per your wishes, your excellence.”
Awkwardly, I curtsy.
Cyrus chuckles, “Nonsense. Stop that. No one else is here but us three.”
Us three?A layer of familiarity runs beneath those two words. I straighten, as does Devin, and when I toss him a confused look, he just tucks his hands behind his back.
“We shall try this again. Marcella, you may stand or take a seat wherever you’re most comfortable,” Cyrus says.
When I turn back to Cyrus, he’s still in his chair. Casual as ever. But something about being in this room with two powerful men has me tapping self-consciously against the meager butter knife I’ve stored in my dress pocket.
“Do you know why you are here, Marcella?” Cyrus asks again. My name rolling perfectly off his lips.
I swallow. “Yes.”
“And?”
I release a breath. “Just as all the women are. Here to…” I clear the tension in my throat. “…here for your…hand. My king. Just as all of them are.”
Devin chuckles behind me, and I glare at him over my shoulder.
