Chapter Thirty-Four
Ispend the rest of the day in my tent, sleeping fitfully, but when night falls, everyone begins to travel down the valley to the celebration dinner for the second challenge.
The first dress that arrives with the guards is something black and lowcut, my breasts half-exposed.
It’s clear my grandparents think they’re going to prance me around for Kildari and his brother.
I send for Cillian, who brings me something much more suitable.
It’s a simple slip dress of pale lavender silk that extends to my ankles, flaring out slightly at the bottom.
There’s a thin row of crystal beads lining the bodice and the straps, giving it a bit of sparkle.
I leave my hair down, as I had before, and then we head out with our escort of guards.
This time the dinner is held along the cliffs overlooking the ocean.
The setup of the tents is somewhat similar, with seating in one, food in one, and drinks in a third.
The décor is different this time, themed to match the ocean with tentacled beasts made of twinkling lights, and maidens with scaled tails, and strings of lights in a multitude of colors that look like sea grass hanging from the ceiling.
We’re somewhat late, again, so this time Daemon is at the opposite end of the table, sitting near the head with his family, close to my grandparents and their guests.
He catches my eye for a moment when we sit down, but Trianne is watching him like a hawk, her eyes narrowing into a glare when she sees me.
I don’t see Toryn anywhere, so that at least is a slight relief. Julian sits with us as before.
There’s a small speech from the tournament council, and everyone eats and drinks.
I flick my gaze to Daemon from time to time, but he seems occupied with his family, and occasionally I catch him watching Kildari and Quelan, a scowl on his face.
People are beginning to get up and drift into the other tents.
I follow Cillian to get another glass of wine, when suddenly someone is standing in my path near the edge of the tent.
Sarielle, the Queen.
Before I can react, she gestures for me to follow her and leads me out into the darkness beyond the tent.
I look back over my shoulder, but I’m not sure anyone even noticed us leave.
I wonder, for half a moment, if I accidentally drank some of that fae wine again.
The wind from the sea blows her pale lavender hair back from the small silver circlet she wears on her brow, and her black cloak swirls around her ankles as she strolls gracefully along the cliffside.
“Your—Your Majesty,” I say, finally finding my words. “Don’t you need your guards?”
She turns back to me, an eyebrow raised. “Do I?”
My cheeks flush. “I just mean… most queens have guards to accompany them, do they not?”
“I am not most queens,” she says with a smile. She is silent for several moments, and then says, “I’m sure you’re wondering why I want to speak to you.”
I nod.
“How is the tournament going for you so far? Is it everything you expected it to be?”
My brow furrows. The Queen came here to ask if I’m having a good time trying to overthrow her seat on the throne?
I decide to go for complete honesty. “I—I didn’t know anything about this tournament a week ago.
And I didn’t know I was related to House Harkyn.
This tournament was the last thing I expected or desired. ”
She turns and gives me an appraising look, then nods. “I sensed something of the sort. Though I didn’t know about your family. That’s very… interesting.”
“I’ve been on my own the last eight years. I don’t remember anything before then.”
“And how exactly did you wind up at Shadow’s Keep with the Guardians?”
I swallow, knowing it all sounds quite fantastical when I say it out loud.
“Well… I was being pursued by men who I later found out were from House Harkyn, and someone took pity on me and brought me there.” It’s the simplest way I can put it, since I don’t want to reveal Daemon’s part in it, given he’s not supposed to leave Shadow’s Keep.
“Fascinating,” she says. She falls silent again, and we walk slowly along the cliffs for several minutes.
Finally, she pauses and she turns to look at me again, her golden eyes glowing in the night.
“And tell me, Embyr, how does a human girl come to be friends with the heir of House Aeternas? They are not exactly known for their fondness for humans.”
My eyes widen. The Queen certainly doesn’t miss anything. “Daemon isn’t like the rest of his family,” I say. “Not at all.”
She cocks her head to the side, musing over this bit of information.
Then she begins to walk again, back toward the tents, which glitter in the distance.
When we reach the last pool of darkness before the lights illuminate the grass, she stops.
“You know,” she says, her eyes hooked on mine, “I grew up thinking I was human. It was long, long ago, but I still remember.”
And with that, she turns and leaves me, walking off into the darkness until she disappears from sight.
I shake my head, still trying to process how surreal the encounter was.
I had spoken to the Queen of all Aureon.
She’d called me by my name. And she hadn’t acted as if she wanted to have me killed for being the champion of the house that started this whole tournament in an attempt to steal her crown.
I have the distinct impression that she’d gleaned a good deal of information from me, yet we’d barely spoken more than a few dozen words.
Shaking my head, I walk back into the tent.
“There you are!” Cillian calls loudly, striding up to me. “I was worried someone had dragged you off to slice your throat.”
I wince at his casual jest about my murder.
“Sorry, cousin. I would have avenged you, of course.” He grins, and it’s impossible not to smile back when in his presence, so I do. “Come, I’ll get you a drink to make up for it.”
We head into the adjoining tent and line up around one of the fountains of red wine which I’ve been assured is just normal wine. I am leaning forward to fill my goblet beneath one of the streams of ruby liquid when I’m jostled from behind, causing me to spill my cup.
“Apologies, my princess!” Kildari says, sliding an arm around my waist as if I’m the one who needs steadying. “How clumsy of me!”
Quelan is standing right next to him and he laughs, leering at me, his eyes wandering down the curves of my body.
I straighten, stepping away from Kildari. “I am not a princess,” I say, narrowing my eyes. “And most certainly not your princess.”
“Not yet anyway.” Kildari reaches out and tries to grab me again, laughing when I step hastily away. “You can run girl, but it will only make me more excited.”
Quelan comes up behind me, blocking me in. “You are as good as ours,” he says. “Might as well give us a little taste now. Just one little nibble…”
“Or one big one,” Kildari adds lecherously, stepping forward again so that I’m pressed between them.
I can feel my eyes light up, rage burning through me. “You may have been given the impression that I am a possession to be bought, but I can assure you I am not, and I never will be,” I snarl.
“And you may have been given the impression that you have a choice,” Quelan says, “But you are mistaken, little girl. It is already done.”
Kildari reaches out and grabs my wrist, and instantly his skin begins to sizzle. But he only laughs, lifting my glowing arm. “This one is hot for sure!” he bellows, and then he breaks into raucous laughter along with his brother.
And then it is as if night has descended inside the tent, a wave of darkness rolling across us. I turn to see Daemon striding toward me, murder in his eyes. He grabs Kildari by the throat, not with his shadows but with one bare hand, lifting him into the air.
“She is not yours to claim,” he growls, and the entire night sky reverberates in his voice. “She is mine.”
He hurls Kildari off into the crowd, causing people to jump out of the way. When he turns to Quelan, he merely growls again, and Quelan turns, eyes widen, and strides away.
Daemon turns to me, eyes searching mine. “Are you okay?”
I nod shakily.
“Come on. We need to get out of here,” he says. He slides his fingers through mine and pulls me out of the tent.
I don’t speak until my heartbeat slows down, and the night air cools my skin. The tents glow in the distance, already far behind us as we walk along the cliffs. “Where are we going?” I finally ask.
Daemon stops and turns around. He seems to have cooled off, too, his shadows no longer spinning around him. His eyes are serious as they meet mine.
“I found out what the third tournament challenge is.” He pauses a moment and then says, “It’s not something a human can survive.”