Chapter
Twenty-Four
raining had not gone well.T For the hour that followed, Luther, Taran, and Alixe tried a number of tactics to force me into unleashing my emotions— teasing me, attacking me, encouraging me, angering me. None of it had worked. Not even a wisp of my power had made an appearance.
I had cut training short and returned to my suite, telling them I was simply tired from dinner and distracted by this evening’s ball. In my heart, I knew it was an excuse. My emotions were haunting me in a way I still wasn’t ready to face, and that fear had herded me back into the part of myself that was hollow and numb, a forgotten corner full of cobwebs where even the godhood couldn’t reach me.
I’ll try again later, I told myself. I have weeks. Plenty of time.
“Diem?”
I looked up from the foot of my bed to see Eleanor frowning.
“Is everything alright?” she asked.
My cheeks pulled tight with a false smile. “Yes—of course. What were you saying?”
She shot me a look. “You’re a terrible liar. We’re going to have to work on that if you’re going to be a Corbois.”
My smile turned real then, and a bit ashamed. I ran a hand along the beaded sleeve of one of the luxurious gowns she had set out, trying to imagine myself so elaborately adorned. I had learned from my mistake at the funeral and asked her to pull an assortment of options for the ball.
“I confess, all this is overwhelming. How I look has never mattered to anyone before.”
“If that’s true, you’re quite lucky.”
A sarcastic laugh rasped out of me. “Tell me I’m lucky after I survive the Challenging.”
“You will—but that’s not what I meant.” She came over and took my hands, pulling me to my feet. “Among the Twenty Houses, everything is predetermined. Before we even get a chance to know ourselves, the realm has judged us by our Houses and the strength of our magic, the two things we can’t control.” She let out a sad sigh. “Even as your advisor, it’s unlikely they’ll ever see me as more than a weak, irrelevant Corbois cousin. But you...”
She spun me around to face the array of gowns, resting her chin on my shoulder as she peered down at the frills and flourishes.
“You are a blank canvas, and this ball is your palette of paint. You can create whatever vision of yourself you want them to see. You can be mysterious or meek or strong. You can make them fear you, or you can make them underestimate you. The you that walks into that ballroom is entirely within your control. That is a rare gift in our world.”
“It’s hardly my first impression. They all saw me embarrass myself at the funeral. How can I overcome that?”
“You did it well enough at the dinner. Whatever the cousins thought when you walked in, by the end of the night, you had them all looking at you with respect. You painted a vivid picture, and that’s what they saw. So... what picture do you want to paint tonight?”
Her words gave me pause. I knew what parts of myself I’d been desperately trying to hide—my doubts, my fears, my plans, my vulnerabilities. What part of me did I want them to see instead?
My eyes dragged across the outfits Eleanor had assembled, each one a character I could slip on and off. There was the regal stateswoman—a modest emerald gown to represent the forests of Lumnos, my patriotism stitched into the embroidered insignia of the realm. Or I could be the sultry firebrand—a barely there strip of red-orange that would conjure images of me in bed rather than on the throne. And then there was the fearsome warrior queen—not a gown at all, but a clever twist on a soldier’s uniform, modified just enough to veer elegant.
The latter, at least, would recognize this ball for what it really was—a battlefield masquerading as a celebration.
“They’re going to be far more interested in impressing you, you know,” Eleanor said. “You are the Queen, after all. And a Corbois Queen at that. If the other Houses have any hope of gaining more influence, they’ll have to go through you to get it.”
I had every intention of using the Crown to share power outside the Corbois circle—just not with the Twenty Houses. Not
with the Descended at all.
I kept those thoughts to myself and nodded. “I need to convince them that not only am I not a threat, but I could even be their
ally.”
Eleanor smiled. “Right.”
My eyes fell on a different ensemble. “This one,” I announced as I gathered it into my arms.
“Are you sure?” Eleanor’s face scrunched in thought. “It’s beautiful, but it’s not very... you.”
I ran my palm along the crisp fabric, and the corner of my lip curved into a devious grin.
“Exactly.”
AS THE SUN set over the forest canopy, I sat with Sorae on her perch, scouring Teller’s notes in between peeks over the marble balustrade to spy on the arriving guests.
Whatever curious magic was woven into the palace’s facade, it had altered its appearance for tonight’s festivities. The dark tangle of shadow vines had sprouted thousands of flowers that twinkled with tiny stamens of light, resembling a midnight field of sparkling flora.
As expected, the Lumnos Descended were in rare form in their most outrageous attire. Each outfit was more extravagant than the last, with bare skin galore and daring choices that had my eyes and mouth popping wide open, nearly all magic- enhanced in some breathtaking way.
Even their transport was shocking. Some arrived on horses that shimmered as if painted in living glitter, while others had elaborate carriages crafted of light or shadow itself.
Sorae kept a steady vigil, her pupils swelling and thinning furiously as she scanned each guest’s intentions, occasionally letting out small rumbles at whatever she sensed. It was no surprise that her deepest snarl marked the arrival of Iléana Hanoverre and her family, confirming what I already suspected—House Hanoverre was a threat I would need to watch carefully.
Every now and then, her ochre gaze turned to the distance, gazing beyond the forest to Mortal City. Now that I had rescinded my invitation to Henri—a decision that still sat like a stone in my gut—tonight would be a Descended-only event. I wondered at what she saw down the path to my old home, or perhaps what she feared seeing, but I felt no answers come across our bond.
Of all the arrivals, the representatives from the other realms had me spellbound most of all. A yellow-eyed couple arrived on the backs of two tigers, no doubt hailing from Faunos, Realm of Beast and Brute, while two women with fiery orange gazes, swathed in crisp white linen, rode in on slow-lumbering camels from Ignios, Realm of Sand and Flame.
At first, I was enamored by the horseless carriage-like contraption that could only be a creation of the innovative Sophos, Realm of Thought and Spark. But when the pair emerged and studied the palace with a scientist’s eye, I remembered Henri’s warning about the deadly fate of mortals invited to study there, and I was once again reminded of the importance of my plans.
The mortals needed a Crown that was willing to defend them—a Crown that could turn the tide in the coming war. I could not let anything, not even the friendships I was beginning to form here, get in the way of that.
Sorae was unusually agitated by the arrival of the foreign Descended, a reaction I couldn’t make sense of. The Kindred’s Forging spell nullified a Descended’s magic while they were outside the borders of their terremère. Only the Crowns and on- duty soldiers of the Emarion Army were exempt from this loss of power, and an uninvited visit from either was tantamount to an act of war. As a result, these foreign Descended were powerless, by far the least threatening of the ball’s guests—or so I thought. Sorae, it seemed, disagreed.
My stomach was a jar of angry moths as I returned inside to get dressed. Even Sorae’s trill of approval when she saw the final product couldn’t calm my frayed nerves.
A knock rapped on my door. When I opened it, I was met by a charismatic archangel. Aemonn wore a suit of white and shimmering gold jacquard, emblazoned with flame-like swirls of metallic beads, and a feather-trimmed cape that cascaded from his shoulders into a wide train on the floor.
It was an outfit fit more for a King than an escort. He even wore a wreath of gilded leaves threaded through his flaxen hair.
I had to laugh at the ballsy audacity—I should have expected no less of Aemonn Corbois.
He smiled, teeth dazzling like a string of pearls. “Hello, gorgeous,” he crooned. His deep blue eyes scoured my body with no attempt to mask his carnal interest.
“You’re shameless,” I teased, flicking a finger at the diamond buttons that adorned his jacket. “Trying to steal my spotlight?”
He took a lock of my snowy hair and twirled it between his fingers. “Only hoping to bask in your glow for the evening,
Your Majesty.”
I rolled my eyes, but the exaggerated sweetness of his charm had me smiling despite myself.
He pulled a cream-colored velvet box from his pocket. “A gift, in honor of your official presentation as Queen.”
I flipped open the lid to find a golden medallion on a long, thin chain. Engraved at the center was a crest encasing the outline of a phoenix, its flaming wings spread wide as it emerged from curling wisps of smoke. Two tiny sapphires marked its eyes, and a dark ruby lay over its heart.
I ran my finger along the delicate etching. “What is this?”
“The sigil of House Corbois. The ruby represents the blood of Lumnos that runs in our veins. The sapphires...” He tapped a
finger beside his matching blue eyes.
“And the phoenix?”
“A message to our enemies that House Corbois always survives. Though many have tried, no one can destroy us.” He smiled. “In the end, we always rise again.”
An ominous chill crept down my spine.
“A shiny collar to show the rest of Lumnos that I’ve been claimed?” I let out a breathy laugh, trying to conceal how his words had rattled me. “What are you going to do next, pee on my leg to mark your territory?”
Aemonn lifted a shoulder, his smirk suggesting I hadn’t been too far off the mark. “You could see it that way. Or you could see it as a pretty little warning to anyone considering a Challenge. Perhaps a reminder that you’re a Corbois now, and if they try to bring you down, you’ll only come back stronger.”
I twirled the delicate pendant in my fingers. One way or another, it was a gilded threat. It remained to be seen who was its real target.
I handed it to Aemonn, then gathered my hair as he draped the necklace around my throat. His hands brushed the sensitive nape of my neck, sending goosebumps rippling down my arms.
He ran his hand along the dimpled flesh and gave a dark chuckle. “There. Now you’re ready.”
I glanced back at Sorae and felt a pulse of affection as she gave me a last once-over, but it curbed sharply the second she turned her gaze to Aemonn. Two trails of smoke wafted up from her nostrils.
“Behave yourself,” I called out to her. “Don’t eat the Faunos tigers.”
Aemonn took my arm as we stepped into the hallway. “You really are stunning, Diem. I’m the luckiest man in the realm tonight.”
I shot him a look. “I’d hardly call blackmailing me luck. Your scheming paid off well.”
He halted in his tracks. “My scheming?”
“Come now, Aemonn. We both know you only agreed to stay quiet about Henri if I agreed to make you my escort for the ball.”
“If that’s what you think, then I have no interest in standing by your side tonight.” He released my arm, and his eyes filled with icy malice. “I don’t need to extort a woman to get her attention. Believe it or not, I do have some self-respect.”
I blinked in confusion. “But Luther said—”
Aemonn laughed bitterly. “Of course he did. Kindred forbid anyone get close to you that he can’t control unless he poisons you against them first. I should have known—it was always his favorite trick with Uncle Ulther.”
“Are you saying Luther lied?”
“Diem, this was his idea. He doesn’t want you marrying that mortal any more than I do. He knew I had already asked you to the ball, so he offered to persuade you to accept in order to keep whatever-his-name-is away from the palace.” He rolled his eyes, muttering, “I should have known he had a plan to use it against me in the end.”
I frowned deeply. “So you never threatened to tell anyone about Henri?”
“What good would that do? House Corbois would look weak, you would be Challenged by every House. Then I’d be stuck with Luther as King, a fate worse than death.” His lip curled back in a sneer. “I’m the last person who would share that with anyone.”
I scanned his face for some evidence of a lie, finding only irritation and disgust. I rubbed my temples and wrestled with this new information.
I didn’t want to believe it, but it made some sense. Luther clearly didn’t want me to be with Henri, and he’d been unequivocal that there was no line he wouldn’t cross if he believed he was protecting me.
“Are you really so surprised?” Aemonn asked. “Have you not noticed how quickly he isolated you behind his closest friends? Do you think Eleanor and Taran are the only Corbois who desire to cozy up to the new Queen?”
I chewed on my lip as an uneasy feeling took root. “Then why haven’t they? No one else has even tried.”
“Luther made it known that the only way to get to you is to go through him. He’s already feared for his magic. Now he fixes himself at your side, he surrounds you with his allies, he takes a bedroom nearby so he can keep watch. You speak of marking territory—Diem, my dear, he’s the one marking you as his.”
“I’m not his. I’m not anyone’s. I can make my own decisions about who to spend my time with.”
“I couldn’t agree more. That’s why I’ve never let his little threats stop me. And if you decide you don’t want my friendship...” He shrugged. “I’ll be disappointed, but I’ll survive.” His head inclined to the pendant at my neck. “I am a phoenix, after all.”
I studied Aemonn. His easy smiles and suave allure, his unapologetic displays of affection, made it easy to fall under his spell. A small voice in the back of my mind shouted at me to remember how dangerous that made him.
But tonight I would be surrounded by dangerous people—perhaps having this one by my side could be more of an asset than I realized.
I sighed and offered him my arm. “I need to think about this. It’s not that I don’t believe you, I just...”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” He took my hand and placed it on top of his, then flashed me one of his charming grins. “You’re the Queen, and this is your show. I’m just here for the front row seat.”
