Page 81 of Hunger & Harmony

They gather around the focal point of the room—two thrones of smooth obsidian. My skin prickles at the sight, and the room itself closes in tighter.

I take a shaky breath before placing my gloved hand in his.

Every eye is trained on us like a sniper. I spot Archduchess Imara near the front, only able to tell it’s her by her stature and clothing. Even she conceals her face, painted red eyes watching on a stark white covering.

Each step forward is like dragging concrete. This is wrong. This is wrong.

It’s an imitation of warmth. A decaying apple dipped in grandeur and gold. Just because I can’t see the core doesn’t mean I can’t smell the rotting flesh.

I don’t mean to squeeze his hand tighter. When I do, Niko’s head turns, and his eyes flick down to mine. Everyone is watching, and he knows that better than I do. I can’t mess this up, but I know I already am when he gently guides me to the left.

“Heresy!”

My heart plummets. Niko pauses, and I search his eyes, which cloud over like a thunderstorm. His gloved fingers tighten against mine.

He positions me in my seat before standing to his full height again. A measured step later, he settles into the polished obsidian, postured like a viper ready to strike.

“Go on,” he says when silence follows. “Speak. Explain why such filth leaves your mouth.”

The hair on the back of my neck stands tall. It’s the same venom he mixed into his tone for the finale. His voice ricochets over the room like a shower of arrows, many of the court members wincing or shuffling their feet.

“With utmost respect, Your Majesty . . .”

I can’t tell which mask that voice comes from.

“A Dissonant should never sit at your side.”

My breaths come sharp and shallow, and I train my eyes to the floor. They’re already renouncing me; they’re already questioning him.

“All who believe you can tell your king what to do . . .” Niko says, the edge of his voice sharpening. “Step forward. Let me properly hear your snide respect.”

Another bout of silence stretches on. Pressure builds between my temples, and a sob waits in the back of my throat. I just want this to end.

“I . . .You . . .!”

Someone suddenly stutters from the other side of the room.

“You haven’t the authority anymore!” the man cries out. “Y-You turned the Vox Crown against us, and . . .you had every intention to destroy us!”

My stomach can’t twist any harder as a wave of agreement sweeps through the room. I try to steady myself by remembering it was Niko’s decision.

Not that I can help but hurt for him. I feel it all as rage and grief roil under his skin.

There’s so much he wants to throw back at them, to rip their expectations apart. There’s also nothing he can say if he wants to keep the peace. I briefly glance over, the lump in my throat growing when I see his eyes raging red.

“Do not question His Majesty,” another voice purrs. “It was certainly the Dissonant’s doing, hm?”

A man cloaked in sapphire says it with scholarly confidence. His mask is gold-encrusted, with lavish foiling and closed eyes painted on delicately. He’s average in height. Clearly a noble, and the only one making a case for his king. It’s chilling that the blame shifts to me, though.

“It is what Dissonants were created to do.”

Ice runs through my veins. I snap my head over to find the man donned in all black: Ryel. I would know his condescending voice anywhere.

Haven't we gotten to know each other? Even if he’s never liked me . . .He thinks these are my true intentions? My nails create half-moons on my palms, clutching the last threads of my sanity. One crack in my calm, and I know I’ll shatter.

“She had no prior knowledge of her bloodline,” Selene speaks up, closer to the noble in blue.

While I can’t see her behind the layers of gray and gold, I know she’s staring back. She doesn’t condemn me, even if she can’t defend. I’d never blame her for that.