Chapter 50
CHAPTER FIFTY
MORGANA
I wasn’t sure what I was expecting. We’d been escorted to our rooms—each in separate wings of the castle—and assigned individual guards to escort us each and every time we left our rooms.
Not that the latter impacted me much. I curled into a ball on my bed the second I was able to tear myself out of the ruthless corset. I’d been offered assistance, but I refused. Too many people had seen the scars lashed across my back.
I didn’t need the closest thing to a royal enemy knowing my vulnerability.
I’d almost cried with how hard it was to untie the knot that fastened the corset. I did cry when I was able to breathe again. I also slept, despite the whirring anxieties in my head, and woke just in time to catch the sunrise. If I did my math properly, that meant I got two whole hours of sleep.
I’d managed to mangle my body into the corset. It took nearly an hour, and it was the sloppiest job I’d ever seen, but it wasn’t as if anybody would be undressing me to assess my corset-tying abilities. Especially not the way Aster had treated me since waking up yesterday morning.
I got dressed in another gown that had been hung up for me in the wardrobe. There were four gowns, actually—and it made me wonder how the servants managed to slip through the cracks without me so much as noticing.
After another hour of managing the layers of the gown myself, pulling my hair back into a braid, and slipping on black boots, there was a knock on the door. Instead of a loose pocket, there was a leather holster for my dagger that strapped around my thigh.
“Miss Tillington,” came a soft, sheepish voice. “We are here to ready you for the day.”
I twisted around and opened the door, the grin on my face widening when their expression turned pale at the sight of me already dressed. “That won’t be necessary today, ladies,” I said with a chipper tone. I slipped between their two narrow bodies and walked down the hall as if I knew where I was going. “Frankly, I don’t think I’ll need any help during the length of our stay.”
They whispered amongst each other, but they let me go. For that, I was grateful.
Eventually my designated guard had caught up to me, chasing me down the corridors before finally correcting me when I turned down the wrong wing. He was a tall, silent man, but I wouldn’t have asked for anything different. When we arrived at the dining hall, Aster and Erynna were already settled in their seats.
Aster looked up when one of the guards announced my entrance, my shoulders hiking up as my soul left my body. I twisted to him, wide-eyed, and almost asked him not to do that.
But then I remembered my place.
“Good morning, Lady Tillington.”
Right. I was not Morgana Kyllingham—I was the aptly named Evelyn Tillington. Of course. A woman of such status would, of course, be used to people announcing her presence. I sighed and straightened my gown. Erynna gave me a simple nod, her assessment on my attire striking a chord within me.
I settled into the seat one of the servants pulled out for me—next to the crown prince and across from his sister. My plate was filled with pastries, meat, and then a piping hot cup of tea was poured to my left. There was an array of food awaiting me in the center too, enough to feed a village.
I only started to pick apart the food when the men attending us backed away from my chair. It was delicious, but my stomach was in knots.
“His Majesty, King Lucif Verinthis the Third, accompanied by Her First Majesty, Queen Lucifina Verinthisa.”
I wondered what purpose the number served, but I recalled his second, estranged wife.
Aster mumbled just beneath his breath, barely loud enough for me to hear. “They are cousins.”
Oh, devils. That was when I set my fork down and focused on keeping my smile wide. The king walked in—an old man with a braided beard, a balding head with wild strands of hair, and this glittering golden regalia that was most definitely the gaudiest formal attire I’d ever seen.
On his right, with her hand wrapped around his forearm, was a younger lady. She had brown hair pulled into a bun and dark skin beneath her eyes. They looked related—but what concerned me most was the age gap that existed between them. He had to be at least sixty—and she wasn’t any older than me.
I expected to stand in their presence, but Aster’s quick shake of the head stopped me before I’d fully wrapped my fingers around the armrest. The king waited a moment, the awkward silence loud enough to make me clear my throat. King Lucif and his queen took their seats—him at the head of the table and she at his left. The seat at his right was empty but set up with empty plateware.
The sound of his knife grating against the fine dish made me cringe. He cut so quick, so deep, through the thin ham, that it was surely going to ruin the finish.
“Where is the king?” Lucif asked between chewing bites of his food.
Aster didn’t so much as look at King Lucif. It felt strange to be sharing a meal with a man who was responsible for so many betrayals and bloodshed—I halfway expected him to greet us in his throne room for a show of power and nothing more.
But the throne room meant more prying eyes.
“The king is indisposed,” Aster said quietly. “He’s fallen ill with a flu.”
King Lucif lifted his head and started to laugh wildly. Aster’s gloved hands curled into his palm, but he moved it into his lap so his frustration was not evident. His face, as a contrast, was the picture of disinterest. “The flu?” he guffawed. “Do not lie to me, boy.”
“Do not call me boy, King Lucif. I know that even you understand the roles we each play here.”
King Lucif’s laughter died down, replaced by a frown that creased his weathered face. His brown eyes bored into Aster. “Very well, Prince Aster. But know that your father’s health is of the utmost importance to me.”
Aster’s response was a tight smile, a nod that was more of a threat than agreement. I knew that Aster was a skilled negotiator, but I also knew the threat he posed to King Lucif, and vice versa. It was a dangerous game they were both playing.
Queen Lucifina’s eyes hardened, but her tone was softer than butter. “Dearest, let us not cause such a ruckus on their first day. Especially with such an unfamiliar guest!” The queen turned toward me and nodded her head. “Lady Tillington, as I’m told.”
My mouth had turned dry. I opened it to speak, but I was stuck staring like a wide-eyed, blubbering fool.
“Lady Evelyn Tillington is near and dear to me, Queen Lucifina.” The words were enough to silence the ringing that deafened me. I turned my head in his direction to watch the words fall off his lips. “She is a vital member of our society, and while it is most unorthodox, she should be involved in these discussions.”
“How progressive for a Sinclair,” King Lucif said with a dry, wheezing laugh. “Isn’t it true Verdantis still makes women take their vow of prudence?”
Aster’s nostrils flared, but his laugh came from the chest. “Quite a silly tradition, is it not?”
“Your father would smack you for saying such a thing!” Lucif said, matching his laugh.
There was no joy here though. I felt the threat resonating in Lucif’s words.
“So, I assume we are not breaking our fast because you wanted to introduce your mistress in person. That sort of gossip travels far enough by word of mouth and the papers, boy—” when Aster’s eyes narrowed, Lucif grinned. “Prince.”
Aster turned his attention to Erynna, who hadn’t broken her focus from the Avendatis king since the conversation started. She cleared her throat. “We came to discuss the matter of the mirror, Your Majesty.”
King Lucif didn’t acknowledge Erynna. “The mirror?” he repeated with a snort. He took a bit of ham in his fingers, chewing it with slow, deliberate motions. “What more is there to say? I sent post many times. We do not have it.”
Aster started to fold his napkin absentmindedly. I watched the shadows writhe across his skin in the small strip between his glove and sleeve. “I have no doubts that you are being truthful, King Lucif. But you have many sons—and they are far less forthright.”
Lucif’s eyes narrowed at Aster’s words, the laughter long gone from his features. “You insinuate that one of my sons would betray me? They are not the treacherous one here, Prince.”
Aster raised an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “I would never insinuate such a thing. I just meant that they keep things far closer to the chest.”
Lucif groaned and waved a hand. I finally turned my head away to look at the door, the sound of distant laughter echoing throughout the halls.
“If my letters were not clear enough, you are more than welcome to interrogate them yourselves.” Lucif snapped his fingers and the doors opened just in time for three boys to come into view. One couldn’t be any older than fifteen, the other in his twenties, and the youngest somewhere close in age to the middle son. They scrambled to a halt, their laughter fading as they stared into the room. “In here, now. Our guests have questions.”