Chapter 22
Belle
As soon as the king had gone, I collapsed onto the settee I’d shoved against the door. The anger and fear that had kept me going drained away, leaving me dazed and hollow. I stared at the shattered remains of the wardrobe on the floor. Had I really done that?
Exhausted, I leaned back and stared up at the ceiling, replaying the moment in my head: the anger thrumming through me, the icy way it drained away, the way the wardrobe had lurched forward, as if hurled by some unseen ghost. Nothing made sense. I closed my eyes.
I must have slept, because the next thing I knew, someone was pounding on my door.
The settee lurched beneath me, and I jolted upright, eyes wide as the door wrenched open an inch, and a hand wedged itself through.
I scrambled off with a yelp. “Stay away from me!”
“Are you okay, my lady?” Loreli called from the other side of the door. “The guards can’t get your door open!”
Loreli. Thank the gods.
“Give me a moment.” I quickly adjusted my disheveled nightgown, still dizzy with sleep. Crimson light poured through the windows. I blinked.
Sunset. Not only had I slept, but I’d apparently been dead to the world for nearly a full day.
With an unladylike grunt, I started shoving the settee out of the way, sending it slowly scraping back across the floor in a series of pitiful lurches. Loreli popped through the door as soon as she could fit through the gap.
Her bright smile evaporated, and her mouth opened as she took in the scene—the shattered wardrobe littered across the floor, the settee half-blocking the door, and my general unkempt appearance.
She hurried forward, inspecting me. “What in the Fates happened? Are you hurt? The king told me not to disturb you, but—”
“I’m fine,” I interjected. “I had a disagreement with His Royal Highness, but I got the better end of it…I think.”
Her eyes widened, a dozen questions hovering on her lips.
I pulled a robe tight around myself, suddenly aware of how I must look—barely dressed, hair wild, and surrounded by wreckage. “I don’t want to talk about it. Not right now at least.”
She plucked a white rose from the basket she’d brought with her. “I’m afraid the king does.”
I took the rose. “What’s this?”
“His summons. You are to meet with him…and Lord Locke.”
Of course he wanted to see me.
I threw the beautiful rose in the waste bin. “Can you tell him I’m sick?”
“He won’t care, my lady. The guards have instructions to drag you to him, kicking and screaming if they must.”
The utter bastard.
I looked from her to the door, wondering exactly how many guards he’d sent to fetch me. “Am I getting thrown back into the dungeons? Or is it straight to the sacrificial pillar this time?”
She winced. “No, I don’t think so. We’re to take you to his study as soon as the sun is down, and that’s not far off.”
I let out a long sigh. I’d known he wouldn’t let it go, but I’d hoped to have a chance to process everything that had happened. I was untethered from my familiar world, with nothing to grasp. It all seemed…impossible.
Could I really have magic?
There was no point in denying it. The truth was, I’d felt it pour out of me and into the wardrobe, like a river of ice. I hadn’t known what I was doing or how to control it, but I’d known what it was—even if I hadn’t wanted to admit it.
I looked down at my hands, turning them over and back, still stunned. I had magic, just like my sister.
Why hadn’t Siggy ever told me? She’d known about Ella’s magic long before my sister did—had she known about mine, too? She’d taught me tracking and how to read the signs of the forest, yet she’d never said a word about this.
Loreli tugged gently on my arm. “We need to get ready …and to be frank, you look like a nightmare swallowed you up and spat you out.”
“I think it has.”
Loreli retrieved a tray of food she’d left with the guards, as well as a bundled package, and closed the door. I immediately descended on the buttered rolls, figs, and cheese, suddenly aware of the yawning pit of hunger in my belly.
She circled the remains of my wardrobe, pulling out the tattered remnants of the crimson dress I’d worn to the reception. “I understand what he meant about you needing something new to wear.”
I winced, remembering the way his heated gaze had fallen over my nightgown.
“I don’t suppose I could borrow a housemaid’s dress, or some riding—”
Loreli unfurled a painfully gorgeous burgundy dress that was practical and tasteful. “The king sent this.”
Unable to resist, I traced my fingers over the soft fabric. No plunging neckline. No sheer panels. No exposed flesh for fangs. This would definitely do.
Loreli quickly brushed out my hair and helped me into the dress. A month ago, I would’ve been appalled at the prospect of relying so heavily on anyone, but to be fair, today at least, I needed help pulling myself back together.
She eyed me curiously as she wove my hair into a thick braid. “You must have angered the king something fierce for him to throw your wardrobe against the wall.”
“It was me. I broke the wardrobe.”
Her mouth fell open, and her hands stilled. “What?”
Would she fear me once she knew the truth? I breathed in, then told her everything.
Her eyes rounded, and she peppered me with questions. But somehow, speaking it aloud made the truth settle inside me.
I had magic. I was no longer powerless, but powerful.
I just had to figure out how to use it.
“What can you tell me about Lord Locke?” I asked as Loreli positioned the stays and then tightened the laces of my dress with a little more enthusiasm than I thought was warranted.
If anyone here could teach me how to wield my power, it would be him.
Loreli grimaced. “All the evil that the king doesn’t do himself falls to the magister. He’s handsome and possesses a cutting wit, but he’s just as dangerous as the king, and spends long hours in the dungeons.”
That didn’t bode well.
“What of his magic?” I asked.
“Several of the staff claim that he can create small miracles, like floating lights and moving objects. There are rumors of magic more dangerous, and some even say he and the king have performed dark rituals together.”
My heart skipped a beat as my thoughts raced. “Could he have helped the king create the beasts?”
“I don’t think so. He wasn’t the king’s magister when my grandfather moved here; the king ruled alone and still commanded the beasts. Lord Locke came later, maybe thirty years ago. All I know is that to cross him is as bad as crossing the king, if not worse.”
Now, I had to face them both.
Loreli massaged my face with rosewater, then pinched my cheeks to give them a little color and turned me to face the silvered mirror. “What do you think?”
An ache rose in my chest. Gone was the bewildered woman with disheveled hair from last night. In her place…
“I don’t even recognize myself,” I whispered. “Maybe you’re the one with magic.”
She hurried me to the door. “Remember that you’re the sister of a queen. Don’t let them take anything from you.”