Frank put his hand over hers. “Me either. Wild horses couldn’t drag me away.”
Regina hummed a few notes of a song. It shocked the hell out of me when Frank began singing along with her in a rich baritone. Together, their voices were beautiful, singing a tragic song about love and loss, living and dying.
When they finished, Gina dropped her head against his shoulder. “I’ve always loved that song, though it’s so sad.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“‘Wild Horses’by the Rolling Stones,” Frank replied. “I didn’t think anyone so young would recognize it.”
Regina laughed sheepishly. “My music app thinks my listening age is eighty-three.”
I didn’t know what that meant exactly. “I don’t plan to ride any horses on this trip…” Guillaume huffed loudly, making me laugh. “Though if the wild horse is G, he can drag me away any time he wants.”
Rik kneaded my shoulder. “As long as he takes us with you.”
I felt a prickle of magic and Carys stared at Julie and then Regina, her head tipped slightly, her eyes unfocused. Sitting back in her chair, she patted her stomach and said out loud, “That was some of the finest food I’ve eaten in a century.”
But to me, she whispered,:You chose very well indeed, my queen.:
51
RIK
Letting my queen out of my sight even for a few seconds was like swallowing down a vat of acid mixed with razor blades while lighting myself on fire. Every nerve in my body hummed with intensity as she stepped into the pool, preparing to go ahead of us to House Valois where not one but two enemy queens plotted against her.
Including one of the most powerful Triune queens with over a thousand years of experience against my far younger queen.
I didn’t have a single doubt in my heart. Shara fucking Isador was going to wipe the floor with both of them. But I didn’t want to miss one fucking second of the action. Just in case.
Goddess. If she’s injured in any way, and I’m unable to see her…
“I’m in good hands,” she reminded gently, turning to face me. “And well protected until you’re by my side once more. I will also keep our bonds fully open so you’re aware of everything that’s happening around us.”
She raised her hand toward a seemingly bare section of her throat framed by the gown’s high neckline. As her finger came within inches of her skin, the thick golden necklace shimmeredto life. Similar jewelry protected her wrists and core from both blades and fangs.
She could still take a blow to the head or thigh…
Except for the Eleusinian Mysteries she’d inherited from the Dauphine. Only an attack from a natural animal or beast would penetrate her veil.
Before coming to the fountain, she’d experimented with the opaque veil of power and the trophies Itztli had retrieved for her until she could perfectly mask not just her appearance but Guillaume’s as well. Beside her, the former Triune Executioner and last Templar knight had been transformed into a stooped, aged country squire with rheumy eyes and gnarled, quivering hands.
I couldn’t see any blades on him—but I knew G had at least a dozen blades tucked away.
Right now, the Mysteries clung around her shoulders like a foggy stole or thick scarf. Beneath the veil, she wore a new Triune-worthy gown from her favorite designer, Alice Wong.
At first glance, the formal floor-length gown looked like glittering spilled ink. Hugging her figure, the gown dripped with shimmering beads, making the fabric flow like liquid down her body. Woven into the design in a reptilian pattern around the bodice, golden sparkles wound like a giant snake around her neck and bodice. Its tail flowed down her back and dragged along the ground behind her. The snake design wrapped around her throat on the asymmetrical high collar beneath her hair, giving the illusion that the snake wrapped around her head.
So naturally the crown she wore towered like the queen cobra’s arched hood with gigantic ruby eyes and glistening, bared fangs high over her head.
Even though she stood in the pool, water didn’t touch the gown. She didn’t raise her hands to touch the veil, but it slipped down her body and up over her head, including the crown, and my queen disappeared.
In her place, a short, frail-looking elderly queen stared back at me. “How do I look?”
Even her voice sounded decrepit. Her glittering gown changed into an old-fashioned court gown from the Nineteenth Century.
“Old,” Kevin said cheerfully. “And dusty.”
She laughed, a dry rattling chuckle. “Perfect.”
