Chapter 16
Vyrus mourned the loss of his wife, his soul, his heart. He stared in desperation at the cosmos he’d created for Evella and cursed the cancer of Eusis. As he sat alone, his heart decaying, there was only one path left for the creatures Evella adored more than him.
Destruction. Annihilation. Evisceration.
— THE HISTORIES AND PROPHECIES OF THE STAR-CROSSED GODS: CHRONICLES OF VYRUS
‘There. You’re stunning. A true queen.’
‘Are queens supposed to wear ferocious scowls?’ Asher asked from the doorway to my chambers.
I glared at his hazy form reflected in the huge gilt mirror where I was, indeed, scowling. Skye tensed at the captain’s voice. My gaze flicked to gauge her expression in the mirror, but the dancing shadows veiled her response.
‘It proves she’s missing Matthias,’ she said, straightening a breathtaking ruby at my throat.
I swallowed against the sting his name wrought in my chest. I’d spent the last few nights staring at the blurry crescent moon, waging war with sleep, wondering if it would have been so bad to just kiss him.
Asher pushed off the wall, entering the chamber. I wasn’t sure, but I doubt his gaze left Skye.
‘As she’s about to spend the evening with Duke Danté Lommond, it also proves she’s an excellent judge of character.
’ He tipped his head to the side, a sly grin on his face, his coils shining in the lamp light.
‘Though, as Matthias instructed us all to be our most diplomatic selves, may I suggest swapping it for a smile?’
My scowl deepened. ‘Have you had the pleasure of Danté’s company before?’
Asher offered his arm to me, while Skye adjusted the crimson and gold sash she’d somehow persuaded Pablo to wear.
‘Thankfully, I’ve only suffered a single evening with him. Though I knew you and I were going to be friends when I learned you were directly responsible for the loss of his teeth,’ Asher said as I looped my arm through his, my other hand instinctively reaching for the comfort of the wolf’s fur.
I grinned. ‘Should we take bets on how many I can remove tonight?’
‘Sorrow!’ Skye admonished.
Asher barked out a hearty laugh. He offered his other arm to Skye, but she shook her head, her shining ringlets swinging against her blushing cheeks as she smoothed her dark green silks.
I was tempted to knock their heads together, but didn’t know either of them well enough to grasp the whole situation.
Perhaps I’d spend an evening with Skye and talk.
I blinked. Was I actually considering friendship here? The familiar twist bit my lungs. I knew better than to allow anyone to unspool the safety I’d weaved. They were far safer that way.
The four of us were flanked by guards as we walked down a corridor I didn’t recognise. Skye was a living, breathing history book, explaining who’d commissioned each painting, bust or tapestry we passed. I was starting to understand why Matthias had chosen her to be my assistant. She was a wonder.
Asher squeezed my hand lightly as I tensed among the blurry unfamiliar surroundings.
With my sight gradually worsening as each year ended, I knew I had to allow myself to grow accustomed to this.
During the accident, my head had smashed against a low bough as I fell, damaging nerves behind my eyes.
I knew some day I’d wake and my sight would be gone.
I’d done my research. There would be a sense of light, indistinct shadows, but everything else would be lost.
I’d long decided not to be scared, but to use unfamiliar moments like these as opportunities to develop the skills for maintaining my independence when that day came. Only, my body occasionally defied the logic and sent me into a panic.
Two servants came into focus, dressed in the finest scarlet and gold tail coats, pale hair slicked back and white gloved hands folded neatly. Asher nodded his head and the two grabbed the handles of the double doors leading – according to Skye – to the processional dining hall.
I sucked in a breath as we entered. The lamps had been lowered, I assumed, to give the hall an essence of privacy and congeniality.
For me though, it meant entering a room with no clue as to who or what was there.
The burning oil filtered with the scents of freshly opened wine.
There was a scraping of chairs and I held my chin higher, clung to Pablo a bit tighter.
Skye held back, but Asher remained at my side as a servant announced my arrival in a deep voice.
‘Her Royal Highness, Queen Sorrow Elmswood of Asmar.’
The absence of Matthias burned through my lungs, and I itched to feel his arm under my hand.
My eyes adjusted, settling on a long table laden with fresh white flowers, and set with a plethora of cutlery and crystal glasses reflecting the buttery lamp light.
At each seat, a person stood, head bowed, dressed in garish finery.
The scarlet dress Skye finally persuaded me into suddenly felt too tight, and I resisted the urge to squirm.
The silence stretched on and still they bowed. I blinked at the myriad of tailored tuxedo suits, ladies with mountains of blinding jewels. Asher squeezed my hand, mouthing my missed instruction.
‘You may rise,’ I called out, grateful for the steadiness in my tone as each head whipped up, gawking at their new queen.
I recognised Danté straight away. It may have been ten years since I’d last seen him, sprawled on the ground, his face as red as the dress I currently wore, but he’d grown up to be exactly as I’d imagined he would.
Asher led me to the head of the table, my heart thumping.
A servant pulled out the chair for me and, taking a settling breath, I sat, plastering the warmest smile possible on my face.
I took in the broad man on my left as the rest of the court took their seats.
Servants dived about pouring crimson wine or water into the crystal.
I was about to select the safer option of water when I met the glare of Danté and chose wine instead.
Straightening my spine, I took a long, rather unregal swig of the rich wine before turning to Danté.
‘How lovely to see you again,’ I lied, taking in the man he’d become.
Danté was undoubtedly handsome, but whereas Matthias was softness and warmth, Danté was cool and angled.
His squared jaw was freshly shaven, blond sideburns immaculately trimmed and his shoulder-length hair was tied at the nape of his broad neck.
His black tuxedo fit perfectly across his powerful form.
I briefly wondered if I should praise the doctor who’d repaired his smile.
A tight smirk lay on his thin lips as he raised his own glass with a pale, steady hand, taking a rather sedate sip and raking his brown eyes over me.
‘I’ll be honest, I was rather surprised when your stepfather informed me I was being assigned to monitor Asmar, Your Highness.’ He formed each word precisely, clipped with intention.
‘Please,’ I said, taking another large swig and almost emptying my glass, ‘call me Sorrow. It was a surprise to learn we require monitoring.’
A quick smile flickered across his face before he stared across to where Skye sat, her head bowed towards the elderly lady next to her, politely admiring the ridiculous plume of feathers in her grey hair.
A servant placed a bowl of watery soup before me, the scent of earthy herbs and rich meat making my mouth water.
Selecting the correct spoon, I made out the courtiers watching me intently.
I placed the spoon down, a slight smile on my lips as I recalled no one could start eating until the monarch had taken their first bite.
‘I suppose,’ Danté continued, refusing to take his gaze from me, ‘it was a surprise to learn you had a princess for an in-law and not two princes as you expected? You’ve been away from court for so long you missed all the scandal when Princess whatever she is chose to don a dress and pretend to be a girl. ’
Gripping the spoon and twirling it in my fingers, I looked over to Skye, praying to Evella she hadn’t heard Danté’s booming voice.
My lips pursed as a dark rash spread across her chest. She tucked her hands under her chin, a tight smile on her rosy lips as she focused on the bird-headed woman.
I sensed anger radiating from behind me and turned to find Asher standing rigidly.
Danté’s eyes flicked up as he picked up his own spoon.
‘Not at all,’ I replied, placing the spoon in completely the wrong place. ‘Skye has been nothing but kind and welcoming, and I’ll remind you, you’re a guest under her roof.’
‘And?’ Danté stilled, his spoon poised over the tendrils of steam, as I stared defiantly into his cold face. The warmth of wine flooded my veins. Hang the consequences. Diplomacy had never been an attribute I excelled at, anyway.
I glanced over my shoulder at Asher’s stony expression.
‘I believe it’ll be three this time,’ I told him.
‘Three? Three what?’ Danté said, his brows drawn.
Clenching my fist, I opened my mouth ready to tell Danté exactly what would happen if he didn’t watch his words, when two massive paws slammed down on the table, spilling soup and clinking glasses. There were a few shrieks and some rather nervous laughter as Pablo fixed Danté with his glare.
‘What the bloody hell is that?’ the duke cried, the colour leaching from his smug face.
Pablo lowered his head to my bowl, amber eyes still locked on the Drufaeran duke as he lapped my soup.
‘This is what we call a wolf. A fierce carnivore capable of great cunning and blessed with a brute strength only the Gods could endow.’ I ran my fingers through his grey fur, noticing how the other guests seemed to move further from my end of the table. ‘And I do believe he’s hungry.’
Skye turned her attention to Danté. ‘Please, don’t be scared, Your Grace. He’s such a lovely creature.’
‘If he likes you, that is,’ I added.