Chapter 9
Nine
Stepping through the doors, I paused on the balcony, looking over the great hall.
It looked majestic. Rows of chandeliers ran down the length of the hall.
The herringbone pattern of the oak wood floors peeked through the hordes of suits and gowns as their bodies twirled and touched.
The furthest edge of the hall opened onto a balcony covered in twinkling lights almost as bright as the star-filled sky.
But the yellow lights cast a warmth that was missing on such a cold night.
Without realising it, I had been gripping the white marble bannister, looking out at the beauty of the imposing room before me. Then I heard my name. ‘Queen Skylar Azdaja of the realm of Maureia,’ bellowed across the hall.
One by one, the heads of all those who had been in quiet conversation or dancing turned to meet my gaze.
Some took a half step back at the mere sight of me.
I was pure power standing at the top of that staircase.
I stood on the cusp of a shift, allowing the black smoke seeping from my feet to create the illusion that I was being carried by a black cloud.
Half the men in the room dropped open their mouths, and the women gawked, unable to comprehend my ethereal yet terrifying grace.
Gone was the scrawny and scrappy girl of the past. What stood before them was a queen.
A queen who knew her power lay both in the fear she held over others and in her beauty and femininity, as much as it did in her darkness and blades.
I took each step gliding my fingers down the bannister, head raised high as the smoke spilled down the steps.
The room had not resumed their conversations, still staring at me as I descended the steps.
My red heels echoing in the silence. As I approached the bottom step, Visarous was there with his arm extended, waiting for me.
I placed a hand on his arm and slowly pushed it down.
I had to make this walk alone. This was the first time these people had seen me as a queen; they would not do so while seeing me rely on one of my subjects for support. I had all the strength I needed.
The crowd parted as I moved deeper into the room, and slowly the whispers began.
They were all curious about my eyes—why they were suddenly blue.
I could have shifted them to brown, but that brown eyed girl was no longer me.
They needed to see me and fear me so that they would think twice about their actions against me and my people.
The whispers faded behind the crescendo of the music.
I found myself in the center of the dance floor.
Lejla stood before me in a long black velvet gown that made her look even taller than she already was, her long orange hair cascading down to her hips.
She smiled in a way that showcased her canines in a most sinister manner.
She stepped toward me, placing a kiss on each cheek.
‘Power becomes you, Skylar. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so…
alive.’ Lejla had been Demir’s girlfriend during our early years at the Academy.
For a time, there was speculation that they would wed, given that she was the second heir to the Cazina throne, the land that bordered on the other side of Morgad.
I couldn’t stand her, she was evil incarnate which made sense given her people were descended from wolves.
Unlike my people, the ability to shift had completely evaporated from their bloodlines.
Lejla, however, still took every chance she could get to remind those around her of what lurked beneath her skin, smiling the most vicious of smiles to ensure those canines were on full display.
During the later years at the Academy, it became a trophy of sorts to have her teeth marking the boys’ necks in the morning. Repulsive.
‘I wish I could say it was a pleasure to see you, Lejla, but to be quite honest, just the sight of you makes me nauseated.’ Walking past her without looking back, I took in the stares of everyone—the men and their hungry eyes, the women and their jealous sneers.
All of it evidence of how far I have come.
Not one of them looked at me with pity in their eyes; the pure disgust had been muted, manifesting only in brief flickers.
Taking a glass of wine from a server as they passed me, I downed the whole thing in seconds.
Raising it as if to toast, I let it slip through my fingers, allowing it to shatter on the ground.
Everyone around me either gasped or scattered as I laughed, pushing through the crowd and stalking towards the balcony without looking back.
The air on the balcony burned my lungs with its iciness.
It won’t be long until the storm hit now.
Inhaling deeply, I savoured the smell of damp in the air.
The gardens were illuminated by twinkling lights that wrapped themselves around every manner of plant life.
It barely looked like a garden at all, but rather a sea of light.
It was breathtaking. There weren’t many times that I took pause to appreciate anything in my life outside of a particularly beautiful blood spatter pattern or expertly crafted blade.
‘You sure do know how to make an entrance, Sky. Always have to find a way to piss people off,’ a voice trilled from the corner of the balcony, laughing.
Emory stood before me, the King of Neretva.
He had deep ebony skin and silver eyes, along with a god-blessed physique.
The land of rivers and lakes that borders Voldina, Emory was a Water Whisperer and an old friend, up until he became decidedly neutral after marrying Celeste, Queen of Suncela, a land that was primarily desert and barren.
She had rich amber skin from years spent in the sand dunes and golden hair that matched the blinding sun that her people worshipped.
Suncela had longstanding ties to Cazina and Morgad.
They married to form an alliance, as the people of Suncela needed the help of the Water Whisperers during a drought that lasted over thirteen years and left her people starving.
Although it was initially a partnership, their relationship quickly blossomed into one of love and respect.
As a result, they took neither side in my conflict with Morgad and, out of respect for each other, decided to step away from the fray.
‘I am not at fault for how people react; besides, Lejla deserves far worse things than some benign backhanded comment in front of her peers. Anyway, where is Celeste?’ I had not seen her in the hall as I walked through and it was only Emory who was here on the balcony.
‘She’s at home, resting,’ he said with a glint in his eyes.
‘Resting? Resting from what? The Celeste I know would never miss an excuse to dress up and party. I can picture her now, barefoot and dancing.’ He rolled his eyes as a smile pulled at the edge of his lips.
‘She’s on bed rest,’ he explained slowly, waiting for the realisation to hit me.
‘She’s pregnant?! You’re having a child? I can’t believe it. Oh gods, poor kid,’ I ribbed. Looking through the balcony windows, I checked to make sure no one was watching before I embraced Emory in a hug. ‘I am truly happy for you both.’
‘No one knows. Your discretion would be appreciated,’ he said. Before we could continue on with the conversation, the door to the balcony opened and Visarous stepped out.
‘Emory, it’s good to see you,’ Visarous said, nodding in acknowledgement. ‘Queen Skylar, Prince Demir and Everett have arrived. Might I suggest we head back inside?’
Emory smiled with understanding as I bid him farewell, returning back inside the hall.
‘My Queen, might I have this dance?’ Visarous asked as we made our way back through the crowd towards the center of the hall.
I placed my hand in his and the other on his shoulder.
His free hand wrapped around my waist and pulled me in closer.
As the music built, so did the speed at which we danced.
Some people glanced our way, most likely wondering why I was dancing with someone who reported to me.
In these circles, what I was currently doing was beneath me, but I didn’t care much for following tradition over things so insignificant.
For so long in these halls, I had been an outcast, sidelined and looked down upon.
Now I wanted to be seen as a woman in their eyes, a woman who owned every molecule of her power.
As we danced, Visarous nodded toward the far left corner of the hall.
Turning my gaze as he spun me, that was where I saw him.
Demir Vjeran the Crown Prince of Morgad was leaning against the wall, his ankles crossed with an ease that only came from growing up in a world that never said no to him.
He was tall, taller than most, with olive skin and short brown hair that looked as though he had just raked his fingers through it.
He had one arm crossed over his chest while he held his drink in the other.
The sleeves of his simple white tunic were rolled up to the elbow, exposing his muscular forearms. His suit jacket was thrown over a nearby chair.
He was carefree, and it was that nature that acted like a magnet to those around him.
He was sure of himself, and it was effortless.
He raised his gaze to the dance floor and locked eyes with me.
His eyes were the colour of honey. He stared at me for a good while as I danced.
I didn’t dare balk and instead held his gaze while Visarous spun me around the dance floor.
He shifted his gaze to the partner I was now dancing with and smirked as his eyes lingered on the red mark my lipstick had left on Visarous’s collar.
I silently cursed myself for the lapse in judgement.
Demir returned to his conversation with Everett without looking back.