13. Chapter 13
Chapter 13
“ W
e’re late,” Esa grumbled, increasing her steps as they strutted quickly down the hallway. Equally matched with each other, they’d lost track of time earlier, training nearly all afternoon inside Esa’s suite.
“Late is perfect,” Imani stated. “Let everyone look their fill when we enter.” Diminutive females needed all the power they could get in this court of vipers, and Imani wanted to feed tonight. She had loosened her glamour, wanting attention. Half-starved, she needed to ensnare someone as a means to survive. Still, she assumed they would blend in with all the glitz and festivities.
She assumed wrong.
Groups of courtiers milled around, stealing glances while servants and other staff openly watched, too. Watched her . Their eyes fell on her delicately pointed ears and red velvet, form-fitting dress.
Esa and Imani were both curiosities. Imani should have known better, but such hunger tore through her insides that she deemed this worthy of the risk.
Even fixing her gaze straight ahead, she couldn’t help but notice muted colors were the court’s fashion this winter. Women wore boxy dresses, all in some drab shade. Unfortunately, they made elves look like corpses with their pale complexions. Unlike the shapeless fashion the courtiers wore, Imani’s dress cut a crimson slash through the crowds and hugged every curve down her body. Meira had made all her dresses and, in Imani’s opinion, had sent her to Stralas like a monarch.
Despite Esa’s gown conforming to the current fashion, she was anything but drab. Pinned up flawlessly, her hair sparkled like a sapphire, and her violet eyes shone bright and big. But it was the wings drawing everyone into her orbit. Usually tucked tight against her back, the startling moth wings gifted to her particular breed of pixie—high sprites—were spread wide. They were stunning enough to be a topic of conversation on their own.
Imani pursed her lips at the scrutiny. The cautious thing to do after tonight would be to toss out all the dresses her sister had made for her and glamour her face more to blend in, but for the first time in years, she was free and now had magic to protect her. So, instead, she held her head high with every right to be there. Meira was a registered High-Norn elf, and Imani would wear her real face and the clothes her sister had made for her no matter how much they stared.
Trying to ignore the stares, Imani focused on the luxury around her. Everything they passed appeared gilded in gold or marble, and she gaped at the paintings, vases, rugs, and ornate sconces lighting the vast hallways.
The leering eyes thinned when they moved down a winding, carpeted staircase.
Downstairs, standing on the sumptuous black carpet, Imani allowed herself to gaze around the atrium. Her head tilted back as she took in the gleaming, glass-painted windows. Excited energy hummed around the room, which was already filled with guests enjoying drinks and aperitifs.
An usher announced the arrival of a high sentinel and her mate, then another, and another, until Imani wondered if she stood in a room with all nine of the high sentinels of the Essenheim Kingdom.
But only a few pixies stood around and no elves except Master Selhey, so it couldn’t be true.
Power and prestige moved over her skin as if they seeped into the air she breathed. Anywhere she laid her eyes, money, money, money looked back at her. Females and males of all breeds mingled, smiling and laughing.
Longing to belong in this world of power and magic hit her. It was a frivolous desire, but at least, for one night, she would pretend she was in charge of her own choices and destiny.
Despite the smaller crowd downstairs, people’s eyes widened, and some whispered amongst each other, making no secret they were gossiping about the unusual pair—an elf and a pixie. For a fleeting moment, insecurity rose inside her. But with one glance at Esa—all assured sexuality and confidence with her gorgeous blue hair and wings—Imani squared her shoulders and continued holding her head high as they strode toward their waiting group.
“Sideòs,” Esa purred, kissing his cheek in greeting. “Let me introduce your date, Meira Aowyn.”
Imani recognized him immediately as Tanyl’s friend and guard who had helped collect the apprentices from around the kingdom. The black waistcoat and boots made the captain of the guard’s dark hair more noticeable. The jacket he should be wearing was draped over his shoulder.
“Pleasure,” Imani murmured in greeting, trying to hide her surprise at the high-ranking identity of her date.
When he took her hand and offered it a kiss, a vision overtook her senses but lasted only seconds.
Sideòs was on a battlefield. Chaos and confusion surrounded them as he backed himself into a tree, mouth bared in a snarl with his sword held high. A massive roar sounded, and a giant creature swiped its arm forward, ripping Sideòs’s head from his body.
The sight dissipated, but Imani had to work to get her breathing under control. So horrified, she could barely meet his eyes.
“Meira? Are you all right?” He held her hand tighter.
Nodding, she took a few shallow breaths. “Yes, thank you, Sideòs.”
“Please, call me Sid.”
Esa turned back to Imani. “This is Aiden, whom I know is dying to meet you.”
“The enigmatic elf witch, we meet at last.” The shifter beside them raked his gaze down her, slow and deliberate, not caring how boldly his eyes took in her body. He gave her a lazy smile, but she thought his eyes held a note of suspicion. “I’ve been curious to meet the only witch to gain a private audience with the prince.”
His death vision came on slower when he took her hand. A roar dulled the noise around her as Aiden came to mind.
He wrestled on the ground with someone, and a shocked expression took over his face before a massive bear of a man approached him.
“It was an accident. Things got out of hand, but—” Aiden sputtered as the larger male grinned and grabbed him by his throat with one hand.
“Thought you could get away with it, huh?”
Imani wanted to wince at the sound of bones crunching and flesh ripping.
Dead, his body hit the ground with a heavy thud , a massive hole gaping in his chest. His heart followed, falling onto the dirt with a sickening smack .
The vision faded, and the room grew into clear focus again. She remembered he’d asked her about her audience with Tanyl.
“Oh, it was nothing,” she said with a dismissive wave. Attempting to redirect the conversation, Imani motioned to the woman beside Aiden. “And this is …? Your hair is perfect, by the way.”
“Nida, my heartmate,” Aiden said.
Even as he pressed the female shifter closer to his side, the desire for Imani sparked from him. While she wanted to be noticed tonight, he must’ve been a real bastard for her soul draw to affect him, despite being heart-mated. Such magic was supposed to be subdued after completing the heart-mating ritual.
A vicious urge to wrap her shadows around his throat and suffocate him slowly rushed through her. It took everything in her to resist as she forced a fake smile, knowing his death would be far, far worse.
“Lovely to meet you,” Imani said with her teeth tight. She turned to Esa. “Where’s your date?”
Grabbing a glass of wine as a server slid by, Esa rolled her eyes. “No idea. But, unfortunately, he’ll probably be along soon,” she muttered dryly. No love was lost between Esa and her date, whoever he was.
In a whoosh, the room hushed. Several of those already seated rose to stand out of respect.
The most influential female in the Mesial Realm breezed into the room.
Petite and unassuming, with delicate, fair features, an ideal representation of a high leimoniad nymph, Queen Dialora certainly didn’t appear imposing. Imani barely detected a signature surrounding her body. Her power merely tickled Imani’s skin, raising the hairs on her arms.
Dazed, Imani’s eyes were locked onto the queen.
Small leaves and flowers fluttered from the branches on the crown growing from her head. Vines twisted intricately together with stems and roots. Alive and a part of Dialora, it constantly flowered. Buds and petals embedded themselves within her skull, protected by thorns. There was something familiar about it, but Imani had only seen it depicted in art over the years.
Its size and beauty surprised her. Yet, for all its power, the Crown of Life appeared understated and utterly seamless, a part of the queen’s body as much as her arms and legs.
Imani often imagined how uncomfortable something so foreign and immovable must be for the queen. But, seeing it now, it didn’t bother her more than her hair. Even if it did, the burden of the Crown would be a small price to pay for being queen, the most powerful female witch in the realm.
An air of reserved poise and magnetism remained even after the female nymph moved into the ballroom in a swirl of smiles and greetings with other nobles.
Voices picked back up in soft murmurs. Esa and Sid roped her back into another trivial conversation. Grabbing her drink, Imani offered a few comments while Esa lightly touched the captain of the guard’s arm, laughing. Despite Sid being her date, Imani was anything but offended. Instead, she sipped the wine and enjoyed her friend’s shameless flirting.
Imani lost herself in the moment, imagining she could be friends with these people. Had her sister been right? Ara’s voice still echoed in her mind. So, Imani listened and observed rather than engage.
While flirting, Esa’s attention subtly shot across the room every few seconds. Despite her warm smiles for the captain, she kept tabs on something—or someone—else.
Following Esa’s gaze, Imani thought it was the heir apparent for a moment, who stood speaking with several master witches. But hawk-like eyes from the witch standing next to Prince Tanyl kept darting over to their group too many times to ignore.
Imani tilted her head to the side, recognizing the high sprite pixie who had sparred with the heir apparent on her first day at the palace.
The male sprite pixie. His name was Loren, if she remembered correctly.
Imani regarded him now with fresh eyes.
Physically, he was quite different from Esa. His broad shoulders and rugged looks made him strikingly attractive, unlike Esa’s diminutive form and delicate features. Even in his perfectly tailored formal wear, he exuded the brutal aggressiveness sprites often possessed.
Leaning up to say something to Tanyl, Lore clapped him on the shoulder then promptly walked away. Weaving through the crowd, he strode forward with an intense yet alluring purpose.
Esa intercepted Lore with a hand on his chest, excusing herself at the perfect time. She didn’t seem happy.
Everyone was oblivious to the two pixies. Only Imani had picked up the exchange.
“Lore,” she greeted him coolly.
“Esadora.” His response was clipped. Although no bigger than a male nymph, Lore’s frame towered over Esa’s petite one.
Her friend’s back stiffened, ramrod straight, but she didn’t shy away from his nearness. They stared at each other for a long minute, both tense, hackles raised, arrogance glowing in his eyes and a deadly look of contempt in Esa’s.
Imani half-expected her friend to let out some biting remark, dismissing this presumptuous arse outright, sending him on his way. But, after an intake of breath, she speared him with daggered eyes, muttering something like, “What is your problem?” and grabbed his arm, pulling him away.
Imani’s mouth gaped at the sight of the two pixies. Who was this man to Esa? Unlike her tryst with the prince, there was nothing casual about this relationship.
Prickles of awareness tingled down her spine.
Even while he conversed with others across the room, Tanyl watched her. For a horrifying second, she thought he was about to come over. She tightened her hold on her soul draw a bit, hoping to get a reprieve from the attention before dinner.
But it did nothing.
Irritated at his continued attention, she gave him a slight nod before returning to the captain.
The tension in the room set Imani’s teeth on edge as they sat down to dinner. Her hunger kept growing, and not for food.
“Well, this should be an entertaining exercise in boldface lying for both the Order and the Crown,” Esa said out of the corner of her mouth, careful to keep her expression pleasant as they sat down. “Bloody sycophants,” she added as an afterthought, giving her date a vicious sidelong glance.
Loren ignored her entirely, his attention on two other female master witches.
“Isn’t this night supposed to be a celebration?” Imani bit into a piece of warm bread as more than one courtier fidgeted in their chairs.
“This night is a bloody warning,” Esa whispered. “Dialora and the Order have had a contentious relationship for years, but she’s bringing it to a head with these new laws.”
The queen pinned her gaze on Master Selhey, and every person at their table visibly leaned closer when she spoke.
“Fascinating article in the most recent Order publication. I commend your persistent efforts and passionate beliefs. Such an inspiration to stand up for what you believe in, despite being in the minority.”
“I wasn’t aware I was in the minority, Your Majesty. So many vehemently agree these anomalies could be reversible if we study them properly.”
“We’ve studied them enough to know magic is the cause. We confirmed casting before every single recorded event.” The queen’s face was a frozen mask of frigid, ethereal beauty framed by billowing branches and flowers flowing like rippling water around her temples.
Master Selhey didn’t relent. “Yes, but we don’t have enough data. What if we restrict magic even more, yet the problems persist? With all due respect, my passion for this subject is unmatched, and there are few things for which the answers cannot be found, Your Majesty.” He bowed his head slightly.
“There’s sufficient evidence also to suggest this is simply an organic process. Natural phenomena.”
“Natural phenomena? Does anyone seriously believe that ?” Imani interjected.
Heat crept up her neck as everyone’s attention shifted, including the queen’s.
All at once, the queen’s faint signature flared out in a spear of challenging power.
Imani’s shadows whispered loudly in her head, demanding freedom, responding to the threat. She wrung her hands in her lap and swiveled her head around the room, biting back the urge to rip Dialora’s entire soul from her signature. Her control hadn’t been this unhinged in years.
It took considerable effort, but Imani tried to appear innocent. She was more like a disgusting insect next to a powerful, elegant bird compared to the queen.
A dangerous smile formed on Dialora’s lips. “It’s the position of the Crown and the First Witch that the Fabric instability theory is unreliable without more evidence. But the fact remains, we’ve let magic run unchecked for too long.”
Tanyl took a sip of his drink. “The longer we wait, the lower the chances of fixing this decreases because we’re losing magic faster than ever. Our witches’ numbers are less than half what they were a century ago.”
Imani’s respect for Tanyl shot up.
“Coincidence,” the queen said flatly, her eyes like cold stones. “We’re all concerned that we haven’t been blessed with as many branded, but who are we to question the gods of the Upper? This is their will.”
As if they have anything to do with it , Imani thought bitterly. Worshipping the beings of the Under and Upper realms—supposedly inhabited by the mighty demon, angel, and deity breeds—was for uneducated fools. For all they knew, these other realms were destroyed when the doorways had been sealed. Besides, even if they did exist, they were probably filled with the same power-hungry people as here.
Yet, as Imani surveyed the others, an alarming number of nobles nodded their agreement. If such an insane religion was taking hold here in the capital, it did not bode well for witches, especially dwindling breeds like pixies and elves.
The tawny prince let three beats pass, ignoring his mother’s glare. “Restrictions might treat the symptoms, but they’re not a cure. It’s our responsibility to find a way to fix it, not ignore it. Or it’ll mean more loss of magic”—he gave his mother a grim smile—“and lives.”
The queen’s mouth thinned while she pierced her son with a severe expression, as if saying, How dare you?
Being the heir, Imani assumed he was comfortable defying her in public, but she got the sense he’d be paying for it later.
“The danger to our citizens is all that concerns me.” Dialora paused. “Bow today.”
“Rise tomorrow,” the rest of the table murmured. The queen waved her hand dismissively, signaling the end of the discussion.
But Imani couldn’t get it out of her head.