Once inside, I go up to my room to change, my maids quickly outfitting me in a silk dress that cuts into a low square at my chest, beaded with crystals along the sleeves. When I’m ready for the formal dinner, I meet Manu and Keon in the hall, both of them already changed into new clothing as well.
“You ready?” Manu says quietly beside me.
“Yes.”
I stride forward, shoulders back, a pleasant smile in place. I pass by the purple flags hanging from the rafters, the ten-pointed star sparkling on the ceiling of the entryway. When I reach the dining room, I’m greeted with the scent of sweet food and the sound of nasally voices.
When the three of us come in, the conversations go quiet, and everyone inside bows at the waist as I pass. As I am now the highest ranking person in Ranhold until Hagan is crowned, I take my place at the head of the table, with Manu and Keon sitting beside me on my left and Hagan at my right.
For the next hour, I nod encouragingly at the king-to-be, listen as the advisors recount today’s passing rites they performed for the prince, and hear endless stories about Niven when he was a toddler throwing fits in the stables. I subject myself to every conversation, drink their syrupy wine, and eat their too-sweet food, all with pleasantries on my tongue or a smile on my face.
Finally, when the plates are being cleared, I stand.
One by one, the advisors around take notice until the room once more falls silent. Even the servants clearing the tables have gone still, pausing their ministrations. With my hands clasped in front of me, I look down the length of the table at each man’s face. There isn’t a single woman on Fifth’s advising panel.
“I would like to take a moment to express my gratitude for being able to be present for the late prince’s passing rites. I believe his spirit has been rightfully honored by you all.”
Their heads bow in agreement, pride puffing up their pompous chests.
“Now that he has been so respectfully laid to rest, we can crown the new heir tomorrow, Hagan Fulke,” I say, gesturing my hand toward him, watching as his cheeks go blotchy. “I know you will bring stability back to Fifth Kingdom, and you will always have an ally in Third so long as I rule.”
A quiet applause spreads over the table, people giving me accolades, already buttering up Hagan. “Right in this room where the prince sat, King Midas gold-touched this very table.” I let my fingers scrape across the glass top, remembering how the gold had spread over it like liquid until it gleamed and went solid. But this gold, just like every other bit in the castle, peeled away that day, melting into the ballroom to wick vengeance against the walls.
I lift my eyes, my expression gone sad. “Two monarchs were brutally murdered,” I go on, enjoying the way some of them flinch at the harshness of my words. “Both of them killed by someone they believed they could trust. The beloved prince as well as King Midas, who was betrayed by his own favored. Because of that night, I lost my betrothed.”
I let my lip wobble. Let my eyes shine. I have every single person’s undivided attention, the room so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
“Now more than ever, it’s important that we unite together. That we support Hagan’s rise, and that the rest of Orea stands against the golden traitor.” I see Hagan nod emphatically, trying to seem kingly, though it’s far too strained to look natural. “Lady Auren has fled the kingdom and is trying to trick King Rot just as she tricked King Midas. Which is why I’m going to call for a royal Conflux.”
Shock ripples through the room at my declaration.
I brace my hands against the table, looking at every single one of them. “It’s time Lady Auren answers for her crimes.”
CHAPTER 12
SLADE
Sometimes, when adrenaline slams through your body, you move without thought. It’s a force that takes over, and there isn’t a chance to do anything else but act.
So I have no idea if I say anything at all to Hojat when he tells me that Auren’s gold is awake. I don’t even remember running down the hallway to my room.
But my body jolts as soon as I pass through the doorway, coming face-to-face with what’s inside.
No longer are the blankets black and the furs brown. In fact, I can’t see them at all. The bed is now covered in a pool of lustrous liquid gold, and Auren’s inert body is in the center of it, floating on top like a lily pad on a pond. Her power weeps out of her skin in little rivulets of slow draining water, beading against her skin and covering her in golden dewdrops. It’s sweating from her every pore, soaking into her borrowed leggings and shirt, collecting on the bed like a puddle.