Chapter Twenty-Four
Magelights spring to life the instant my door swings open.
Flying upright, clutching the comforter to my chest, I shield my eyes against the sudden assault of light. Through slitted vision and splayed fingers, I witness a stream of castle staff flood into the room.
Oraphia stands at the door, holding it open, a beaming smile upon her face. Upon entering, Raevi takes the lead, carrying a heavy-looking wooden box. Castle staff follow, their hands filled with various things—bolts of black and white fabric, flowers, silver trays…
They scatter heading in different directions throughout my quarters as Raevi sets the box upon the table near the balcony doors.
Beside me, Ryc rolls on to his side, laughing. The sound grows muffled as he buries his face into his pillow. Sparks of his sheer amusement dart through our bond.
“Oraphia,” I call, my voice encumbered with sleep. “Oraphia, what in the nine hells is happening?”
“’Tis coronation day,” she chimes brightly, nodding at each of the staff as they retreat from the room. Leaning forward, she peers into the hall. “Yes, yes, bring in the stand. Cover the mirrors.”
Two hulking fae males enter carrying a darkwood mannequin hoisted over their shoulder.
A human woman follows, carrying yet another bolt of white fabric.
She sweeps in beside the fae males as they set the mannequin before the tall standing mirror, and unraveling the white in her hands, slings it over the mirror.
Why cover the mirrors?
“Raevi, prep the bath,” Oraphia instructs. “Use the almond oil.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the skittish creature chirps, bobbing a quick curtsy in my direction, her golden braids swinging with the motion. Without another word, she vanishes into the bathing room.
“Coronation day?” I ask in a low, annoyed growl, shifting to glance at Ryc.
One golden eye meets mine, the other remains buried in pillow.
Laughing, he replies, “Tradition, little love.”
“The coronation ceremony always takes place the day following the marriage,” Oraphia says through the slew of castle staff entering and leaving and going about their business. “We have been preparing for this since you accepted King Alaryc’s gift. When Lady Lilith informed us—”
“Lilith…” I groan the damn Sovereign Queen Emeritus’ name as I rub at my brow. “The cretin canceled yesterday’s lesson and only now do I see it’s because she wanted to plan this.”
I might murder her.
With everything happening—marriage, the veilflowers, Sabien… the not so small detail of coronation was lost in the fray. A warning would have been nice. I could have taken time to mentally brace myself—Lilith’s words from yesterday halt the thought.
“Tomorrow will be your most exciting lesson yet. I promise.”
Yet another lesson in rising to the occasion when all I want is sleep.
This lesson of being woken up far earlier than I’d like is growing old. It’s neither exciting nor appreciated. Likely sensing my thoughts and irritation through our bond, Ryc’s muffled chuckling is enough to cement the scowl upon my face.
“Today is going to be a very busy day, Queen Ves,” Oraphia says, closing the door behind the last of the castle staff.
Queen Ves.
I stare at the woman, dumbfounded as she approaches the foot of the bed.
Rolling onto his back, Ryc tucks an arm behind his head as he peers up at me. “We could have hidden it for at least a week, but you had to tell Lilith.” He runs a hand through his disheveled hair, grinning at me like a godsdamned fool.
“I didn’t tell her anything,” I counter over my shoulder. “She made assumptions based on details she shouldn’t have noticed.”
“It’s far too late to do anything about it now,” Oraphia says, perching her hands on her hips. “Invitations went out yesterday morn.”
My scowl deepens.
I’ve the feeling they were sent the instant Lilith left the study.
“Your Majesty, you’re to get ready in your quarters,” she adds, swinging a hand to point at the door. “Grant your queen peace, she’s going to need it.”
Of the two staff standing silently beside the door, one sweeps forward, a black robe draped over his outstretched arms.
Pulling himself upright, Ryc leans close, giving me a swift kiss.
My hands race to his face, keeping his lips against mine.
With a quick laugh, he’s eager to answer my demand and too easily does desire race through my veins.
Breaking the kiss, he reaches for the robe and slings it over his shoulders, forcing his arms into the fabric.
An acute sense of mourning strikes as he climbs from the bed, fastening the stay around his waist.
“Remind me to have a chat with Lilith,” Ryc says to the attendant as they cross the room. “She’s cost me a day in bed with my wife.”
The way my stupid stomach somersaults with his words is nothing short of ridiculous.
Over his shoulder, he catches my stare. “I’ll see you in a few hours, little love.”
“Sovereign Queen, Your Majesty,” Oraphia corrects with a subtle pride. “Your Sovereign Queen.”
A smile brighter than the godsdamned sun spreads across his ridiculously handsome face as he nods.
“Yes,” he says, holding my stare. “Mine.”
?????????????
Covering the mirrors has to be some kind of strange faerie tradition.
What tradition?
I couldn’t say.
Nor would I have any idea where to start speculating. But every mirror in my quarters has been hidden away, draped with flowing white silk. The tall standing mirror, the mirror over the vanity counter, even the mirror in the bathing room.
I’ve been left with no means to view myself.
And as the morning has progressed, my curiosity and vanity has grown stifling. I would ask Oraphia, but in addition to Raevi, two other castle staff busy themselves in my quarters, neither of whom I know.
Instead, I remain silently frustrated as Oraphia continues to work upon my hair.
The two unknown attendants have dressed the mannequin and currently flit about it, ensuring silver buttons are polished, no wayward crease exists in the silk or lace, and the lengthy black train sits smooth across the floor.
It’s… a beast of a dress.
At least, it is from what I can see.
And in black no less. The Witherhorn family color. While I highly doubt Nektos took the time to care about something so trivial, I’m thankful it isn’t a garish shade like that of Eloric’s family. If I’m to be crowned, the last thing I need is to look like a withering flower while it happens.
With Oraphia’s hands in my hair it’s hard to glean a better glimpse without risking her annoyance. I’d rather not ruin whatever skilled magic it is she works on behind me.
Raevi hovers a short distance away, also just out of view, unpacking the box left upon the table.
Things seem and feel slightly different than the last time we spoke.
She smiles and bubbles with warmth—traces of the skittish creature she was the last time we sat in a room together nowhere to be found.
I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to know what prompted the change. But asking such questions in the presence of others feels less than appropriate and more unnecessarily exposing.
Perhaps she’s made some discovery—something granting her life after Fate. Or perhaps she’s come to terms with death hunting her. Either way, I’m oddly relieved to see she hasn’t fled.
Oraphia’s hands leave my hair and my head swivels toward the dress.
It’s not a frilly, voluminous, filled with layers of air kind of thing—and thank the gods for that. No, it’s a slender slip of silk, wrapped in black lace. No sleeves, high collar, and plummeting neckline. Nothing flamboyant but eye-catching all the same.
“How am I supposed to move in that?” I ask. “The train is ten yards long.”
Oraphia’s hands find my head and with a small laugh she turns my face forward.
“It’s two yards long, Your Majesty,” she corrects and I can hear the smile in her voice. “And it will be easier than you think. You’ll have Raevi, Leuna, and Kali to help you throughout the day.”
“Do not let the dress intimidate you, my queen,” one of the attendants on my left says. Her voice reminds me of a tinkling wind chime.
A creature with dark hair and darker skin paired with bright violet eyes steps into my view, offering a curtsy before continuing. “Lady Lilith was very attentive to your design preferences.”
I am neither surprised nor shocked Lilith had a leading hand in the creation of this dress. I remain still and silent, giving the blanketed mirror an undeserving flat glare.
“Lady Eve made sure of it,” Oraphia adds with a small laugh.
“Where is Eve?” I ask. I can’t have been the only one woken up this early.
“In her quarters getting ready,” Oraphia answers. “She’ll be escorting you to meet King Alaryc later on.” Her hand shoots past the side of my head in a gesture toward Raevi. “Raevi, the finishing piece please.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Silver streaks through the corner of my vision as she plucks an object from the table and breezes toward Oraphia, presenting it in an open palm. It’s a hair comb—a heavily bejeweled thing. A silver upturned crescent moon, encrusted with hundreds of tiny moonstones.
Stealing it from my lingering stare, Oraphia places it into my hair with a small wiggle. Her pockets rustle as she fishes about for a few hair pins.
“Will you be there? At this coronation?” I ask as she works a pin into my hair, locking the silver piece in place.
“Oh no,” she laughs. “Though if we finish quickly enough, we might steal glimpses into the ballroom. But we’ve a fair bit of work to do. We have to get your quarters moved.”
“Moved?”
I make the mistake of trying to turn.
Oraphia offers me a gentle smile as she stops me, once again turning my head forward.
“Yes, moved to the western wing along with King Alaryc. I think you’ll find the marital quarters of the castle provide a much nicer view of Ollora,” she answers, fastening yet another pin.
“What will happen to these quarters?”
I’ve become quite attached to them.