“Does he ever talk?” Eva whispers near my ear as we approach the dining hall.
“The beastie?” I say loudly enough for him to hear. “I ordered him to speak only if he has something nice to say about his Champion. He’s been silent ever since.”
“He’s too busy admiring your bare shoulders,” Eva murmurs behind me, nearly making me stumble.
Is he really watching me like that?
There had been a shawl with this gown, a delicate thing meant to clasp at my neck and drape to my elbows, but I’d left it behind.
The thought of never again having to wear what others expect of me, however small the defiance, fills me with a quiet, unexpected joy.
A pair of attendants open the great doors of the dining hall and soft strains of violin music spill through, wrapping the corridor in a haunting melody.
Even though Eva warned me what to expect, the sight still knocks the breath from my lungs.
What is usually a spacious room for casual dinners now overflows with noble daughters, their youth and beauty shimmering in the candlelight. Their white hair—symbols of purity—gleam beneath the chandeliers. Some wear braids, others let their hair fall in silken waves, and a few have pinned theirs in elegant twists.
Yet the effect is the same: they look rehearsed. Placed. A room full of white hair and insincere smiles.
My fingers twitch before I force them still, gripping the silk of my gown as though it might anchor me. This isn’t a dinner, I realize, it’s aparade of my replacements.
A cold hollowness spreads through my chest, warring with the sharp sting of betrayal. Was it always meant to be this easy? For them to erase me and offer someone softer, simpler, more acceptable to the throne?
Something inside me screams to turn and leave, to flee before anyone sees the hurt twisting through me. But a heavy, wordless presence lingers at my side. Kaelzar.
His silent nearness steadies me, allowing my defiance to root me in place against the quiet humiliation of being so easily cast aside.
Rows of duennas line the walls, seated primly with folded arms, their watchful eyes sweeping the room for even the faintest hint of impropriety. At the center of the hall, several young women twirl to the music, while platters of untouched food line the tables in lavish excess.
The nobles haven’t wasted a moment. With me pushed aside, they parade their daughters before the newly available king, each one hoping to secure her place as the next queen. The Consul will see to it that my absence doesn’t leave the position empty for long.
I squeeze Eva’s hand in silent thanks for insisting I freshen up, though the gesture feels small, almost laughable, against such a dazzling display.
I should have expected this. Still, I feel woefully out of place.
A whisper of my arrival slithers through the crowd. A noblewoman leans toward her companion, eyes flicking toward me before she murmurs something behind her fan. A man at the far end smirks, raising his goblet in a silent toast to my humiliation.
The whispers grow, rippling outward until the chatter fades entirely. Heads turn. Eyes follow.
Amid the sea of white-haired women, a clear path opens to Ryker. He stands at the far end of the hall, engrossed in conversation with Mael and a noblewoman fluttering her lashes at him.
The sight of her sends a blade of resentment twisting through me. But it isn’t only her.
It’s him. His silence. His ease.
Then Ryker turns.
My breath catches.
For a single, reckless moment, I let myself believe—hope—that I’ll see something in his face. That his gaze will soften, that there will be more than duty and distance in his eyes.
Our eyes meet across the room, and for an instant, surprise stirs there, warmth and recognition I once knew so well. But as quickly as it appears, it’s gone. His expression hardens, the warmth draining from his features until they’re carved from stone. The chill of it sinks into my bones.
I was foolish to hope.
Of course he wouldn’t welcome me back. The rift between us, one I tore open with my own hands, was never meant to close so easily. And now, reminded of everything I’ve done, of everything I’ve become, he looks at me as if I were a stranger.
But before I can move, something seizes me. An invisible force snaps through the air, latches onto me and yanks me backward with brutal speed. The dining hall blurs, chandeliers and startled faces streaking into ribbons of gold before the world collapses into suffocating black.
