Tower of Tempest: A Steamy Fantasy Romance (Stolen Crowns Book 3)

Chapter 29

The musicians stood on an extended wooden perch that jutted from the second floor out over the crowd, and they struck up a new tune as the last of the receiving line walked away. The crowd slowly turned their gazes away from me, a few still staring, but at least most of the attention had strayed. The tightness in my chest loosened as I glanced around the room, finally having a moment to actually take it in.

The last time I’d stood here, it had been cloaked in shadows and doom. My gaze trailed up to the second floor, to the alcoves, which now glowed brightly, candles lining the viewing benches. Garlands of bright blue and purple flowers hung from the arches. Servants flew through the air, carrying trays filled with drinks and food. And the view. It never ceased to amaze me. With the wide windows lining the room, it felt like we stood in the sky itself, the starry night surrounding us. No grand decorations were needed, not when we danced among the stars.

The queen nudged the king, tipping her head toward me, and he cleared his throat. “Arabella, may I have this dance?”

My eyes widened as I realized he was asking me. “Yes,” I stammered. “Of course, my king.”

His throat bobbed as he offered out his hand, and we walked down the stairs, his silver tunic and pants matching, making his thinning hair seem even whiter than usual. Then he was leading me into the throngs, whirling me around as he clasped my other hand and led me to the tune of the music.

I’d never danced before. Well, that wasn’t quite true. One night, Gran had given me an impromptu dance lesson, but I’d stumbled and tripped so much, finally causing both our feet to tangle together as we fell to the ground that she’d never tried again. My heart squeezed as I remembered the way we’d laughed so hard after falling, Gran declaring that she’d never seen a worse dancer in her life.

I’d watched many dances, read about them in books, but the real thing was much harder.

My feet tangled together, and I stumbled, face flushing. “I’m sorry,” I muttered.

The king didn’t smile, but his tone was teasing. “Are you kidding? This is a breath of fresh air compared to dancing with the queen.”

My head snapped up in surprise.

His blue eyes twinkled. “Queen Bronwen is many things, but a good dancer is not one of them.”

I laughed as he spun me around. Everyone was so careful to give each other wide berth, avoiding wings brushing, and the expansive room certainly had the space for us all.

“You’re joking,” I said as I looked down, attempting to copy the movements of his feet.

I glanced back up, his face solemn, even though amusement shone in his eyes. “First time I ever danced with her, I had so many bruises, I was limping for a week.”

That made me laugh again. “How did you fall in love with the queen?”

His gaze sharpened.

“Sorry if that’s an inappropriate question.”

“No, it just took me by surprise. Not an interesting tale, I’m afraid. It was the first time we danced. Bronwen was from the streets, orphaned and without anything. I let her stay in the castle after she’d been injured by my guards in an accident. We’d had a chance to talk and visit daily. She made me laugh. She was smart. But more than that, we’d both experienced the loss of our parents and knew how deeply it cut. The night before she was going to leave, I asked her to dance. That was the tipping point. I knew she was it for me no matter what anyone might say.”

“When she stepped all over your feet?” I asked in disbelief.

His words were full of adoration. “She had a way about her, a confidence that she carried no matter what. She didn’t care that she couldn’t dance. She knew her strengths and she owned them. I liked that about her. I was so unsure of myself all the time, second-guessing everything. She never wavered in the right thing to do, the right move to make. She’s been the best queen, the best wife.” His steps faltered. “She would’ve made the very best mother.”

My hands grew clammy. I didn’t know how to respond to that. So much had been taken from them because of Gran.

His face sobered. “We haven’t spent a lot of time together over this last week. I’ll admit, it’s been my fault. You seem nice, Poppy.”

I noticed his use of my name, not the one he’d just used in front of the queen: Arabella.

“But I don’t trust you.”

His words were a slap to the face. “W-what?” I sputtered.

He swept me in a circle, grip tightening. “Do you know how many girls have come forward over the years claiming to be our daughter?” He continued before I could answer the question. “Twenty-four. Twenty-four girls. Twenty-four heartbreaks. Twenty-four times I had to console my wife because yet again she’d been duped. You have no idea the lengths these imposters went to. Some used elaborate wigs and makeup, spied on us to gain personal details, some had been raised for this role by their parents. Some even used dark magic to change their appearance to look more like our heir.”

That was horrifying.

He shook his head. “Now, you didn’t come to us of your own volition, but I wouldn’t be surprised if you somehow made yourself known, got the attention of our guards so they’d bring you to us. I’ve seen it all.”

A heavy stone settled in my stomach. “You don’t believe I’m your daughter?”

“As far as I’m concerned, I already have a daughter,” he said, nodding to Saestra, who was surrounded by a group of elementals, all of them doting over her while she looked like she’d rather be anywhere else. “She has trained her entire life for this role. She deserves it. My wife seems to think you’re Arabella, and I can’t bear to watch her shed any more tears. So for now, I’m letting her live out this fantasy, but just know that I’m watching you. That I’m waiting for you to slip up, and you will. They always do. When that day comes, you’ll regret hurting my wife.”

The song ended, everyone stepping apart from their partners. I couldn’t move, frozen by the king’s accusation.

I wanted to tell him he was wrong, that I would never do something like that, but I had a feeling it wouldn’t matter. He’d made up his mind about me already.

The king nodded. “Thank you for the dance, Poppy. Now I must attend to our guests—and your mother. She gets cranky if she’s not fed.” He winked and wove through the crowd, silver wings folded tight to his back. The band struck up another song, but all I wanted to do was crumple into a ball and cry.

“Well, you have a lot of explaining to do,” a voice said from behind me.

I whirled to see a blonde standing there, her blue mask dotted with gems, matching the blue gown that exposed her shoulders and collarbone, the sleeves long and puffy, the skirt hanging to the floor, simple and straight. She waved a thin paper fan at her flushed cheeks and used the other to pat her hair, which was pinned back with pearl-studded clasps. A delicate pearl necklace gleamed against her pale skin.

I sniffled, holding back my tears. “I’m sorry, do we know each other?”

No wings, so she wasn’t someone I’d met this last week. But I didn’t know anyone else.

“I guess I do clean up rather nicely after being imprisoned.”

My eyes popped as recognition flooded me. “Emory.” I grabbed her arm and led her farther away from the crowd, down toward the doors. “What are you doing here? How did you escape?” I shot a wary glance around the room, lowering my voice to a whisper. “Are you worried about being caught?”

She laughed in delight. “I told you I’d be getting out soon. And I didn’t escape. My husband came for me.” She sighed as if it were the most boring answer in the world.

I didn’t think I could be any more shocked. “Your husband?”

She snapped her fan closed and pointed it toward a man with wings. Heavy-set, balding, and he looked to be about thirty years her senior with sagging skin and a wrinkled forehead.

“That’s your husband?”

“Ambassador of the sky court. He’s in charge of relations with Fyriad.”

The frost court. I couldn’t believe she was wife to an important man like an ambassador.

“Is that where you’re from?” I asked.

She wiggled her fingers, frost forming over the tips.

“Where do you live? Here or in Fyriad?”

“We have two homes. One in the frost court and one in the sky court so he can attend to his duties. We were at our home in the sky court when I went to find Spirit Sky’s bolt. Of course my husband doesn’t know that. He thinks me nothing more than a simpleton who accidentally stumbled onto the sacred ground during an outing.”

I let out a laugh of disbelief. “How could anyone think you’re a simpleton?”

She leaned in like she was telling me a secret. “Oh, it’s surprisingly easy to believe what we want to about a person. I might play the part a little too well.”

“So that he won’t suspect what you’re doing?”

My gaze bounced between the man and her as I tried to work out this puzzle. “How did you ever get married?”

She waved her hand. “It’s simple, really. My parents raised me to be wed to someone with wealth and power.” She gestured toward him. “As ambassador of the sky court, Lord Growley is certainly that. It’s an arrangement, nothing more. He doesn’t know about my... hobby. I go on my expeditions when he’s out of the house and I pay the servants for their secrecy. It doesn’t hurt that they like me much better than him.” She rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t supposed to get arrested. I’ve never seen him so angry when he came to collect me. He said I humiliated him.” She studied her manicured nails. “But I have my ways of... calming him.”

My stomach twisted. I had no desire to know what those ways were.

“So what’s your next venture?” I asked, still so fascinated by Emory. She’d been bred to be a wife, an important man’s wife, but she carved out the life she wanted for herself amidst it all. She just took it. Never wondered if she deserved it.

“I’m going to find that bolt,” she said. “Then I’ll have to appease my husband for a while because of my little stint in prison, and then... well, who knows?”

“But what’s your plan for it all?” I asked. “Why do any of this? You find the bolt and then what? It’s not like you can waltz into the castle with it.”

Before she could answer, a voice interrupted.

“Excuse me.” I turned to see Erasmus standing there with that crimson mask pressed against his bronze skin. He held out his hand. “I hope I’m not interrupting. I just wanted to ask Princess Arabella for a dance.”

“Well, I believe that’s my cue,” Emory said, bowing her head. “I hope we meet again, Princess.” She waltzed off toward her husband, who slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a watch attached to a long silver chain, looking for the time.

I turned to Erasmus, who had stretched out his hand. “Don’t you have a ballroom to be guarding?”

He chuckled. “My guards have it handled.” He gestured to the guards stationed around the room, their silver chest plates gleaming, eyes constantly shifting to assess for danger.

“In that case, I’d love to. Though I do have to warn you, I’m a terrible dancer. The king already found out firsthand.”

My mention of him brought our conversation back to the forefront of my mind, and suddenly, I wished I could be anywhere but here. Emory’s company had been a good distraction, but now I’d been shoved headfirst back into reality.

“That is good to know. I do need my toes intact.” His lips twitched as he took my hand and led me to the floor, right in the middle of the staring crowd.

I still wasn’t used to it. All the looks, the murmurs. After that dance with the king, I just wanted to disappear, but I also didn’t want anyone to think something amiss.

Erasmus pulled me to him so that our chests were nearly touching.

“You’re beautiful, you know,” he murmured. “Born to be a princess.”

If only I actually believed that.

“Thank you,” I said but couldn’t muster a smile. He was being kind, but as I felt more stares driving into me, I wondered how many others felt the same way as the king. Intrusive thoughts sank in their teeth and would not let go.

If only I could offer them something, anything. If I could do more than just look like a pretty ornament, then maybe they would learn to trust me. Maybe then I’d be worthy of their loyalty and respect.

“Are you okay? You look pale. Do you need to sit?” Erasmus asked.

“No. I’m sorry.” I straightened. “My mind is elsewhere.”

“Ah,” he said. “Well, let me distract you.”

With that, he placed his hands around my waist and lifted me, whirling me around. I laughed. He was trying, and it was sweet. But I didn’t think anyone could distract me from these dark thoughts.

Well, maybe one person could. The one person who wasn’t here.

Erasmus set me back on my feet, and I stumbled trying to keep up with him, with these steps I didn’t know. He grabbed my hand and spun me outward, then brought me to him as our arms stretched overhead together. My gaze wandered over his shoulder from face to face.

I jolted. Through the crowd, I caught a glimpse of auburn hair. A familiar shade I’d recognize anywhere.

I sucked in a breath. It couldn’t be.

Erasmus turned me, and I lost sight of those familiar curls. I searched frantically through the crowd of whirling bodies, no longer seeing him.

Great. Now I was imagining the prince.

“Mind if I cut in?” a deep voice said, unraveling every piece of me.

Erasmus frowned at the man that stood before us, while I could barely breathe.

Loch stood there, a sapphire mask covering the upper half of his face, those dark blue eyes searing into me, that teasing grin that I’d missed so much spread across his lips.

“Actually—” Erasmus started, but I stepped away from him.

“Of course,” I interrupted, unable to break Loch’s gaze.

Erasmus shot me a look, and I gave him an apologetic smile in return. “I should really mingle a bit, don’t you think?”

“Of course, Princess.” He bowed and shot a wary look at Loch, then stalked away through the crowd.

I turned, heart hammering as the prince of the water court swept me up into his arms.