“What?”
He gives me a careful look. I hadn’t even realized he’d come over to stand in front of me.
“It’s time for my announcement, and then I’ll need to make a demonstration. So I need you to pay attention.” He’s talking to me slowly, enunciating every word. “I need you to take off your glove and gold-touch the railing when I point to you. The sun is setting, so we don’t have much time. Alright?”
I stare at him.
I was leaving with Rissa. I’m at the ball. Someone gave me dew. My back hurts.
When I don’t say anything, Midas sighs. “When are you gold-touching the railing, Precious?” he presses.
“When you point.”
He gives me a tight smile. “That’s right. Don’t forget, okay?”
Forget… How much did I forget?
“Okay.”
After giving me another long look, Midas then makes his way over to the middle of the mezzanine’s curved balcony, a hand raised in a signal. Below, the musicians immediately cease playing, and the noise of the crowd dies down.
Blessed quiet.
“Welcome to our celebratory ball!” he announces, charm thick in his tone. His voice drawls, filtering in and out as my mind continues to drip. To collect. Dandelions and tumbleweeds and paper and stalactites…
Still keeping to the shadowed recesses, my eyes skim the crowd, stomach churning with every sweep as I search for answers, search for something, search for someone…
“The prosperity of Sixth Kingdom has bolstered Fifth, and it is my duty to ensure Orea’s northern kingdoms are strong and united.” Midas’s voice booms out, echoes, spins around. He presses a hand against his chest in a humbled gesture. “Even still, I have failed. By coming here to strengthen Fifth, Sixth Kingdom has suffered by my absence under the influence of the cold queen. Although the riots were a tragic, terrible thing, it was also good in a way.”
My eyes lift to the windows, to the dying light.
Something twinges in my back.
“It has brought about change,” Midas goes on. “I have heard the voices crying up from the people. That their labors deserve more from their monarchs, and I agree.” He lets that sink in, a lofty pride carried in the upturn of his chin. “The recent death of Queen Malina shows me that as a king, I must do more. That the people deserve a true queen who is beloved by them. That the kingdoms can be strengthened by unity.”
Murmuring spreads through the crowd.
Murmuring goes on inside me.
And there—a dark, quiet voice.
Remember.
Midas’s palms rest steadily on the balcony. “There is one such beloved queen,” he says, gaze passing over the hundreds of people below. “In fact, she is here tonight.”
He motions toward the opposite end of the room, and everyone turns to look where Queen Kaila stands up from the throne, hand cupped as she gives a proud wave. She looks striking in a deep blue dress, yet with a glimmering gold crown on her head woven into the loops of her black hair. I squint my eyes, flicking my attention from the familiar crown to the fur shawl around her shoulders, to the shell necklace around her neck. All gilded.
The things Midas touched against my arm.
“I am pleased to announce that Queen Kaila of Third Kingdom and I have decided to wed!”
My brows pull together. Midas is remarrying, but…I knew that. I knew, and I didn’t care, because…because…
The crowd gasps and claps, the sound rustling in my head like running through dry leaves, every step another whoosh of air, another crinkle and snap beneath bare feet.
And those feet take me right to Slade.
My heart stops when my gaze lands on his dark presence standing in the middle of the colorful ballroom, like a pitch-black pupil in the middle of a multi-colored iris. He doesn’t see me, but I see him, and it’s enough.
It’s enough.
The wavering, drifting boat of my mind yanks to a stop, suddenly grounded by his anchor. My grip closes around dandelion seeds. The tumbleweed stops its roll. Ripped paper fuses back in place. A last drip of water settles at the tip of a stalactite.
A head of feathers lifts up in my chest, a beast of anger blinking both eyes open. And that’s when she turns, spreads her wings, showing me a tail full of feathers that stream down like golden ribbons.
Ribbons.
My breath catches. My back throbs.
I bring my trembling hands to come up and ghost over my back. My aching, empty back.
Remember.
I do.
Everything suddenly comes rushing in. It’s a barrage of rain that floods my mind and roars in my ears. Or maybe that’s the anger that just awoke, shaking off the groggy drug with a grind of a fang-filled beak.