He sighed. “I’ll never forget that moment, the sound of your voice, the way you looked.”
“You have a beautiful voice, little songbird.” We both jolted apart at the sound of the smooth, warm tone. “It reminds me of someone I knew long ago.”
We stared through the open doorway as Queen Ingrid sauntered toward us. Her hoop skirts squeezed through the archway as she waved her feathered fan along her décolletage.
“Hello, Graemon,” she said with a quirk of her lips. She lifted her chin in Wolf greeting and tapped her fan closed against her lace-covered hands. “Not a very convincing disguise, I must say.”
I straightened, wishing I had more than just my knife in my boot. Grae took a step closer to me as he bowed, and I did the same.
From this close, I could see the streaks of silver in Queen Ingrid’s white-blond hair, the minute lines around her mouth and neck, the only indications of her age.
“Your Majesty,” Grae muttered.
“That was a delightful little act you put on in there. And who is this phoenix you kissed?” She cast her cold eyes toward me. “What’s your name?”
“Calla,” I whispered, dipping my head in a half-bow again.
Queen Ingrid sniffed the air as if she could discern who I was from scent alone. Her pale eyebrows popped up above the line of her mask. “Is this the mate I’ve been hearing whispers about?” Grae took a step closer as she pointed her fan at me. “Take off your mask.”
“I—”
“Let me see the face of Graemon’s mate,” the Queen insisted.
With shaking hands, I reached back and untied the ribbon around my head, letting my mask fall into my hands. I looked up at the Queen. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, her pale eyes boring into mine, until I thought she might laugh or sneer or call me ugly, unworthy of Grae.
“Moonlit curses,” she whispered instead, her eyes roving my face. “Your mate isn’t another Silver Wolf, is it? I know a Gold Wolf when I see one.”
“How did you know?” Grae’s jacket sleeve brushed against mine, his shoulders raising like a hound ready to bolt.
“And not just any Gold Wolf,” she said, ignoring the question. She cocked her head, letting out a cackle. “I’m impressed you managed to keep this a secret, Graemon. A Marriel? How?”
“What makes you think I’m a Marriel?” I rasped as she prowled a step closer.
“Because you are your mother and father combined. You’ve got your father’s green eyes.” She scanned me from head to toe, reading my lineage etched into every feature. “And nose. You have Rose’s hair, though, and stature. I suppose those who knew them best are long gone, but anyone who remembered the King and Queen of Olmdere could see them in you in a heartbeat.”
The feathers on my shoulders fluttered as my chest rose and fell. She had cut to the core of us in a single passing glance. I had always thought Briar took more after our parents—that she looked like the truer Marriel. But with one discerning look, the Ice Wolf Queen had figured it out.
“A secret child, what a scandal!” She seemed delighted, as if this bit of juicy gossip didn’t affect our entire lives.
“We’re not the only court with secret children,” I muttered through clenched teeth. “We’ve just been through Hengreave.”
“You mean my pathetic half-brother?” Queen Ingrid flashed her white canines. “If he could shift, he’d be battling down my door demanding the throne right now.” She shook her head, waving off the notion. “Men.
“Anyway, every family has its dramas, even the Marriels. So maybe don’t be so quick to bandy gossip about royals so readily, right, Calla?”
My brow furrowed.
“Oh, you don’t know.” The Queen smirked. “I’m sure Sawyn will enlighten you.”
“Why have you allied with her?” Grae demanded.
The side door opened and a servant bustled out, pausing when they saw the Queen . . . No, not a servant at all, but Hector. He bowed quickly, acting as if he’d stumbled out the wrong door, and darted back inside. As he left, he patted his coat pocket twice, a gesture that would go unnoticed by the Queen but told us he had the nitehock.
“Perhaps I see things in a way you do not,” Queen Ingrid mused, pursing her lips, and my muscles eased the tiniest bit that her assessing eyes hadn’t seen Hector for what he was, too.
“You let her Rooks run wild through your kingdom,” Grae said, pulling her focus back to him.