Chapter 15
NARYA
The king had warned my staff would be ready the next morning.
They knocked on my door just as the sun stretched across the clear auburn sky. The excited chatter in the hallway echoed through my door, and my pulse spiked as I closed my eyes again with a quiet groan. I didn’t need or want anyone to help me dress. Certainly not to bathe.
Not only was it humiliating, but I was terrified I might reveal the scars on my back.
I’d spent so long trying to forget about them, hiding them every chance I got, that I didn’t realise how vulnerable they now made me.
For all I knew, Gravyn had carved something onto my back that could endanger my life in the Bloodstone Kingdom. Or worse, endanger my loved ones.
The knocks on my door resumed, more insistent this time.
I sighed and threw my legs over the side of the bed. I could not avoid them forever.
“Hush now,” a stern female voice said to them, then came another knock. “Your Grace? We have come to assist you in getting ready.”
I didn’t reply, hoping they would just leave me. They didn’t.
Someone tried the handle, and I could hear the panic rising in the woman’s voice when they found it locked. Not just locked.
I’d shoved an entire chest of drawers in front of it before I went to sleep.
As if that could keep their king out.
“Your Grace? Are you well in there?”
The hushed whispers faded, and the third knock that came was more desperate. There was no escaping this. But perhaps I could change its course.
I cleared my throat and forced myself to sound as confident as I could.
“Yes, I’m well. Is Thràena there?”
“No, Your Grace. Would you like me to fetch her?”
“Yes. I will only have Thràena tend me for now.”
“As you wish, Your Grace.”
Footsteps hurried away, the whispers fading as they vanished down the hallway. I sighed again, my bones still unbelievably heavy as I stood from the bed. I grabbed the night gown from the hook and carefully shrugged it on.
When I last visited the Selenith Archive, I’d come close to getting my hands on one of the translation tomes.
The archivist there had always refused to let me near the restricted section.
I suspected he, and the others who worked there, had all been warned by Gravyn not to let me near it.
Knowing how sick and twisted Gravyn was, it probably excited him to know I was clueless to what they carved into me that night.
Well, now there was no one stopping me.
After all these years, I wanted to find out what the runes truly meant.
Another knock on the door went, followed by Thràena’s voice.
“Good morning, Your Grace.”
I hurried over, pressed my weight against the side of the drawers, and pushed the furniture aside.
I twisted the lock and opened the door. Thràena slipped over the threshold with a curious, sceptical glance around the room.
When she found no threat, her eyes fell on me again.
They widened in horror at what circled my neck, its purpose clear.
“Oh, my lady…”
Thràena pressed a hand to her mouth and shook her head in a way that made my insides tighten. Heat warmed my cheeks, yet I forced myself not to look away.
“It’s why I sent for you. I know I can’t hide this. Your king wants to teach me a lesson. I can’t take it off.”
She moved behind me, assessing the collar closer. “May I?”
“Of course. You cannot remove it. Trust me, I’ve tried.”
Tried all night, in fact.
The bent silverware I’d hidden in the bedside drawer was proof of that.
Thràena gently reached out and touched the collar. She gasped and pulled back as a sizzling noise gave way to the smell of singed hair. My heart rate spiked.
“Did it just burn you?”
She nodded, her focus still on the collar. “I do not understand why he would…” Her eyes flicked up, brows knitting in disbelief. “His Majesty was ever so happy when he returned with you. In fact, many of us have never seen him quite so happy.”
“Happy?” I choked the word out. “If this is the Bloodstone King happy, then I dread to think how he acts unhappy.” Probably collars people, I grumbled inwardly. “Is there a way to hide it? Or… draw less attention to it?”
Thràena’s eyes lit. “I know just the thing! Oh, it is beautiful. You will be the envy of the court.”
She hurried to the enormous wardrobe and threw open its opulent doors.
Rummaging through the garments, she pulled something out and laid it across the bed.
The dress coat was ivory trimmed with deep crimson fur, the lining soft as clouds and smelling faintly of incense.
Its embroidery shimmered with gold thread, delicate leaves scattering down the skirt and sleeves like drifting sunlight caught in motion.
“I believe this belonged to her young highness, Princess Alowyn. Do you think it will be suitable, my lady?”
I ran my eyes over the coat. “It’s perfect.”
Thràena helped me into the dress. I kept my back to the wall, my stomach roiling should she move behind me or catch sight of my scars. She noticed my unease and hesitated.
“My lady, I—”
I cut her off, my embarrassment rising. “We all have things that haunt us, right? Things we try to forget, or hide…” I took a breath. “Well, there are things I can’t hide. Things I find difficult to… I just can’t have anyone… I don’t…”
“Oh, my lady!”
Thràena wrapped her arms around me. It shocked me at first. Then it gutted me—because I couldn’t recall the last time anyone had done so by their own will. Except for Rueren, of course.
Her hands lingered on my shoulders, her eyes firm. “You need not explain yourself to anyone. Do you know why? Because you are to be our queen. The greatest our kingdom has ever known.”
I stared at her, speechless.
She glanced at my necklace, lowering her voice. “I do not think that is to imprison you, but to keep you safe. The king is—I fear he is afraid.”
“Afraid?” The word tasted bitter on my tongue. “I can’t imagine the Bloodstone King afraid of anything.”
“Well, he has already lost one sister,” she said quietly, glancing at the door. “He will not risk losing you too.”
Thràena beckoned me to the dressing table where she had laid a neat row of brushes and clasps. I cringed when I saw my reflection. Yes—the cloak was stunning, the colours flattering. But my hair was so visible. So white.
Thràena’s brush glided gently through it, her touch gentle. “What you said earlier, about breathing for books…” Her lips curved into a pretty smile. “I found that quite beautiful, my lady.”
I smiled at her reflection. Books have been my lifeline. My reason to get up each day and survive another night.
“Never have I seen hair like this,” she said, softly. “It is like freshly fallen snow. Simply”—hideous, I thought—“stunning. Like the purest of stars.”
I frowned at my reflection. No one had ever complimented my hair before. It had always been a curse. An omen. Yet she sounded as though she meant it.
“I… thank you.”
She smiled at me in the mirror. “Now, would you like me to pin it up?”
Although I planned on lifting my hood as soon as she left, I didn’t want to spoil her joy. “How do the others style theirs?”
“Usually pinned up, like this.” She twisted a strand of my hair and gathered a few curls. “Or braided, to represent their house. But your hair is so long and beautiful. It would be a shame to hide it.”
I bit my tongue. There were so few joys in life. Who was I to ruin hers?
I pulled the front sections of my hair back. “What about pinning some here, like this?”
She considered it. “Hmm. Plain, especially for your debut. Would you at least allow me to braid the back?”
I nodded, forcing myself to sit. She quickly worked braids through my hair, pinning them with crimson clasps that glittered in the light. Then she lifted a larger clasp from a coffer, its surface etched with starlight patterns.
“It will suit you perfectly,” she said.
I smiled. For once, I almost believed her.
“How long until court begins?” I asked.
“Several hours yet, my lady. Would you like me to go down early?”
“No,” I said quickly. “I would rather visit the archive.”
Thràena’s face lit up. “Then you will be delighted, my lady. The Bloodstone archive is the largest in the realm!”
When I followed her to the door, Captain Izyák was already waiting.
He was crouched low, his hand outstretched, where a winged black cat arched against his palm. The cat reminded me of Daigen.
Was it common for Bloodstones to have wings?
The captain straightened and grabbed the spear off the wall.
“Her Grace is not permitted to leave.”
My hackles rose but I lifted my head, refusing to show it.
“I beg your pardon?!” Thràena’s voice thundered from behind me. “What is the meaning of this?”
The white wolf in the tapestry behind him froze, its red eyes gleaming at me.
“Her Grace is not permitted to leave,” the captain repeated slowly, as if we were deaf.
Blood pounded in my ears. I clenched my hands, digging my nails into my palm. Thràena swept in front of me, hands on her hips, and glared up at the male. She barely reached his waist.
“Her Grace is free to leave whenever she wishes! Step aside, Captain.”
He scoffed at her, then his eyes slid past her to me again. All I could see was the brute who had slaughtered my sister’s pet chicken, and the urge to strike him burned hot in my chest again. I squeezed my hands tighter to keep them still.
“The king would prefer you to stay in your chambers, until summoned.”
Summoned. Like a dog.
The creature hissed once more before vanishing into a curl of shadow.
“Very well,” Thràena said stiffly. “Then surely His Majesty would not deny his queen light exercise?”
“His orders are for her to stay inside.”
“Then what about—”
“No.”
“Captain—!”
“Get—”
“Please!”
“—back.”
“Just listen!”
“—inside.”
“Oh, you’re infuriating!” Thràena threw her arms up.
I stepped forward, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. “Tell me, Captain, did you enjoy my father’s chicken?”
He tilted his head, ebony hair shifting, the gesture eerily like a raven sighting prey.
“Cooked up real nice. Didn’t get to try it though.” His grin widened. “Busy fighting your kin.”
“Right,” I agreed dryly. “So you were.”
He’d almost died that day, but it seemed he’d forgotten that part.
I paused in the doorway, turned, and let my words strike:
“It’s a real shame, you know. Perhaps the next time you steal and kill someone’s beloved pet, you’ll get to taste the fruits of your labour by choking on the bones of them!”
I spun and walked back into the chamber. Thràena hurried in after me before I slid the door shut, my heart hammering. She stared at me with a hand clamped over her mouth. Then we both burst out laughing.
“Gods that felt… good.”
“Good?” Thràena choked, her wide green eyes fixing on me. “It was bloody spectacular!”
I glanced down at my trembling hands, grinning. I’d never stood up to anyone in authority before. Not like that. It felt more than good.
It felt like breathing fire for the first time.
It was either my first step towards freedom. Or my first mistake.