She snorted in response.
I smiled and stroked her chin, then turned to the palace. I strolled toward the entrance with my chin high, eyes fixed on the crowd of silhouettes tracking my every move. Luther fell into step a pace behind as he trailed me into the foyer.
The guards who had once assaulted me for daring to wear weapons in the palace now gave me a wide berth. They avoided my eyes as they beat their fists against their chests in formal salute.
I made my way deep into the chamber before I was forced to admit I had nowhere to go. Luther had asked me to come, and I’d relented. Now what?
I spun to face him, hands perched on my hips. “Well, I’m here,” I said plainly.
A hint of amusement warmed his typically cold stare. “That was quite an entrance.”
I smirked. “I think Sorae and I are going to be great friends.”
“Be careful there. Gryverns are loyal to their Crown, but they can act of their own will. If you fear someone, or even dislike them strongly, she might take their life in an effort to please you.”
I sauntered up to him and leaned in close. “Sounds like I’m not the one that should be careful.”
His eyes sparked at my threat. “I asked Lily to gather the family upstairs. I presumed you’d rather meet them all at once, but if you’d prefer to spend the next few days making private introductions…”
I’d rather sink to the bottom of the Sacred Sea than do either of those things. “A single introduction is fine.”
He nodded, then hesitated as he looked me over. “This meeting is very important, for both you and my family. If you wish, I can tell them we will reconvene tomorrow, and I can offer you my counsel on how to proc—”
“Your counsel is unnecessary.”
His jaw tightened. “Very well, but perhaps some sleep and a change of cl—”
“I’m fine,” I snapped.
I knew I was being rash. If anyone in the nine realms could properly advise me, it was Luther. This was his family, and he’d surely spent years planning the maneuvers a new Crown would need to take.
But I couldn’t trust him.
Not with this, not with anything.
“As you wish,” he said coolly. “Follow me.”
We walked in silence through the palace until we came to an arched doorway. The massive oak doors were carved in Sorae’s image, depicting the gryvern’s elegant body twisting and turning across the ripples of wood. Her talons and wings were outstretched, fangs bared as her mouth opened in a silent roar.
Luther’s posture shifted, transforming into the imposing statue he so often embodied. Shoulders back, spine straight, jaw set. The sudden change took me by surprise—I hadn’t realized how relaxed he’d become in my presence.
He gazed down at me. “Ready?”
I tried to subtly mirror his movements, rolling my shoulders and lifting my chin to a defiant point.
I nodded once. “I’m ready.”
He placed a palm on the door, then stilled.
“You saved my sister’s life, and for that, I owe you a debt that can never be repaid. Although I don’t imagine you’ll take it, allow me to offer you some advice that may save your own life.” He paused, his tone darkening. “Tell them as little as possible—about yourself, your plans, your magic. And especially about your mother.”
Before I could respond, he waved his hand, and twined branches of light and shadow curled along the door and pushed it open wide.
I took a deep breath, and I stepped forward to claim my throne.
Chapter
Four
It took me one blink to realize I’d made a mistake in rushing into this meeting unprepared.
The royal family was large. Very large. No fewer than a hundred Descended were crowded into the spacious sitting room, and more were still flowing in from doors in the back.
They were dressed in the finest clothing, the room awash with silk and satin, velvet and brocade. Men and women alike had hair in a rainbow of unnatural hues woven into elaborate plaits, sweeping updos, or elegant curls. Arms glittered with eye-popping baubles, any one of which was worth enough to feed a mortal family for weeks.
On my previous visits, the Descended I’d met were exceedingly formal, clad in attire more fit for a ball than a casual day at home. Tonight, though, many of the royals—particularly those who looked close to me in age—wore scandalously little. I’d seen more modest outfits on the sex purveyors in Paradise Row.
Nearly all the adults stood taller than me, an ocean of eyes gazing down their perfectly straight, perfectly pert noses. I had always been tall for a mortal woman, but if I was indeed a Descended, I must be petite for my kind, a fact that rankled my nerves. I hadn’t appreciated how much my height had fed my confidence until it was ripped away from me.
As usual, each of them was a work of art, breathtakingly beautiful in their own way. Their ubiquitous blue eyes ranged from deepest midnight to radiant cobalt to a pastel so pale it was nearly white. After a lifetime surrounded only by the brown eyes of mortals, I found each gaze more transfixing than the next.
Even the room was sumptuously dressed. An entire wall was dedicated to a hand-painted depiction of King Ulther on his throne, a black sash of mourning already draped across his face. Scattered among the chairs and settees were tables littered with gilded goblets and heavy-bottomed cut crystal decanters that sparkled in the glow of an enormous chandelier.
And then there was… me.
Soggy and mud-stained, wearing ill-fitting clothing that stunk of brine. Messy hair, half-escaped from its sloppy braid. Dull, colorless eyes rimmed red with exhaustion. Mortal weapons that were as useful as twigs.
In the mortal world, my ego had been nurtured by my parents. My father had taught me to be strong and fearless, adept with weapons of all types. My mother taught me to be clever and independent—and most of all, unafraid to use my own voice.
But here, among the children of the gods, I’d never felt more mediocre.
I stared at them, unmoving, unspeaking, quietly regretting every choice I’d made. I debated how bad it would look if I fled the palace and sprinted all the way back to Mortal City to try this again some other day.
The back of Luther’s hand brushed against mine—just for a moment, but too long, too lingering to be unintended.
He dipped his chin low. “Your Majesty, it is my honor to introduce my family, House Corbois.” He gestured to the room. “House Corbois, I present the heir to the Crown, Her Royal Majesty Diem Bellator, Queen of Lumnos, Realm of Light and Shadows.”
Silence.
Not a soul moved.
Luther’s eyes narrowed slightly, his voice growing louder. “Our King is dead.” He swiveled to face me, then closed his fist and beat it once across his chest with a furious thump. His chin dropped as he lowered to his knees. “Long live our Queen.”
Lily followed almost instantly. Then, one by one, others joined in, even the servants who had been quietly filling glasses and craning their necks for a peek, the room falling still in wait for my acknowledgement.
I gazed out at the room of kneeling bodies. My petty side wanted to leave them there and let them marinate in fear that their influence had come to an end. But if I wanted to dismantle the Descended’s power on my own, I’d need to do it from within. For that, I needed them to trust me.