"Adjust my dress," she snaps.
The maid scurries around her, hands careful, making sure each layer of silk falls exactly as it should. The horn sounds again.Always so fucking loud.
She steps off the ship with care, every movement measured, the Yorali flag snapping above her in the harbor wind. Two crossed swords on deep blue. The herald moves to the front.
"Princess Ivanoxa of Yorali returns to the palace."
They drop immediately, every knee finding the ground in a ripple that moves outward from her. Nox lets her power rise, her gold irises deepening as her intunar slips outward and brushes against the crowd, tasting the fear and the reverence of those bent before her. She lets herself enjoy it for a moment before releasing it.
"Take me to my father," she says.
The nearest attendant startles and immediately scurries ahead to announce her arrival.
Yorali is beautiful in ways that are also terrifying. Silver and deep blue line every corridor, polished and precise, everything about it radiating power and beauty, with something far darker hidden beneath. Nox draws in a breath as she enters the palace and moves through it, the familiar presence closing in around her.
She enters the throne room and drops immediately into a curtsy.
"Your Majesty."
Her father sits at the center, exactly as he always does. He looks younger than he should, his features smooth, his skin warm-toned against the deep blue of the throne. His smile comes easily, open and pleasant, white teeth flashing, his eyes kind in a way that feels effortless. Even his voice, when he speaks, carries a softness that invites rather than commands.
Beside him his wives are arranged like decoration. Some look down. Some look empty. One, Lylleta, tries to smile.
Nox’s smile is not kind. “Be careful, Lylleta,” she says sweetly. “I do not like your face. Until you can do something useful like produce an heir, I would remember it.”
Lylleta’s smile falters, her eyes drop instantly.
Good.
Her father laughs warmly. “My Nox is always so clever, so humorous.”
His voice darkens as he turns to Lylleta. “Not that it requires wit to see when someone has failed to fulfill their duties.”
Silence.
He looks around. “Does no one find me funny?”
The other wives laugh nervously.
Prince Tamal stands near the far wall, as he always does. Still. Watching. Her twin. The only one in this room who hears her even when she does not speak.
“Such a bitch,”Tamal says in her head.“Poor Lylleta.”
“Her teeth annoy me. She should not smile.”
“Father doesn’t mind a snaggle tooth.”
“His standards have gone down,”Nox says bitterly.
Collars gleam at the throats of the attendants lining the walls, silver etched into the skin like something permanent, something that does not come off. Everyone here knows what happens if they fail. Everyone here knows what happens if they are chosen.
“Tell me,” her father says. “What progress have you made, sweet daughter?”
Nox rises slowly. “I have placed deathmages throughout their palace.” She pauses. “So far, there is no word on who the key may be.”
The room falls quiet.
“See, now that is a shame,” he replies lightly. “Because I need that key to be mine before it becomes Sevrin Rathmor’s.”
