“Who is Henri?”
I froze. “What?”
“I was talking about Aemonn.” Taran’s eyes narrowed. “Who were you talking about?”
I staggered back a step. “I—I didn’t—no one.”
Couples around us were beginning to take notice. Perthe stepped forward with a concerned look from where he stood watch on the edge of the dance floor.
Taran gave them a quick glance, then tugged me off to the side. “You’re engaged?”
“Yes.” I winced at the memory of Henri’s betrayed expression. “I think. Maybe.”
“To someone you knew before you were Queen…” He trailed off thoughtfully, then jolted and gawked at me. “Lumnos’s tits, to a morta—”
“Hush!” I slapped both hands over his mouth, waiting to remove them until his bulging eyes shrank to a normal size. “Yes. Someone I grew up with.”
He studied my face, frowning deeply. “Does Luther know?”
“Yes. He’s helping me keep it quiet until after the Challenging.”
A swirl of emotions passed across Taran’s expression, sadness eventually settling into his pinched brow. “I knew there was something he wasn’t telling me. He’s never… you’re the only… fuck, now it all makes sense.”
“What makes sense?”
“Why Luther is the way he is around you. Why he won’t…” He sighed heavily and scrubbed a hand down his face. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Why Luther won’t what?”
Taran smirked. “Aemonn’s going to lose his mind when he finds out.”
“Aemonn already knows.” I glared. “And don’t change the subject.”
His smile vanished. “Aemonn knows?”
“Yes. He’s helping me hide it, too. Actually, he—”
“Fuck.” Taran’s jaw went tight. All hint of lightness hardened into something sharp, something dangerous. Suddenly Taran seemed taller, broader, fiercer. “That’s not good, Diem. That’s really not good.”
“You’re being dramatic. Aemonn’s been very understanding.”
“For now. That’s how he works. He pretends to be your friend until he knows your weakness, then he’s the worst enemy you could ever have. You can’t trust him.”
“I don’t have a choice, Taran. He already knows.”
Veins jumped along Taran’s throat as his furious glare settled on his brother, who was holding court on the other side of the dance floor. “If he threatens you, I’ll kill him. I’ll actually kill him.”
The music ended, and I extricated myself from Taran’s vice-like grip, trying to ignore the hook of worry his warning had lodged in my side. “I’ll be fine. I can handle Aemonn.”
Taran’s eyes stayed on his brother. “I need to find Luther.”
I waved a hand toward the corridor. “He was in the hallway with Iléana. You three have fun.”
A throng of onlookers closed in around me as I pushed my way through the crowd. I ignored Perthe’s distant shouts to wait, desperate to get far away from the dance floor before the next song began.
A hand grazed my shoulder.
“Diem, was it?”
I spun to see Jean Hanoverre looking down at me with bedroom eyes and an impish smile. Behind him, a pack of Hanoverres crept closer. Their vicious grins turned my hook of worry into a full-blown anchor.
“Your name is Diem?” he repeated, one eyebrow lifting high. “Diem… Bellator?”
I clenched my jaw. “It’s Diem Corbois.”
“Sure,” he said, drawing the word out with a sinister chuckle.
My focus darted between him and his cousins. They were casually circling around me, closing me in a ring that had the hair on my arms rising.
On instinct, my hand moved to my hips in search of the daggers that had lived there for more than a decade, now finding only empty tulle.
“I apologize for my grandmother,” Jean said. “You know how troublesome elders can get, with their sharp claws and addled minds.”
“I get the feeling anyone who tells Marthe Hanoverre she has an addled mind will find themselves at the end of her sharp claws.”
His smile slid slideways, telling me just how accurate that statement had been.
“It’s practically unheard of for someone unknown to arrive at court. And when that someone arrives with a Crown…” He scoured me from head to toe. “We’re all so very curious to know more.”
“Lucky that I have a long reign ahead, then. Plenty of time for us all to get acquainted.”
“If you survive the Challenging, you mean.”
“Oh, I will.” I smiled. “You can be certain of that.”
I held firm to his gaze as he stared me down, the two of us locked in our own sort of mini-Challenge. Bodies brushed against my elbows as the Hanoverres edged closer.
“You know,” he said, “there’s a nasty rumor going around that you can’t use your magic. Some say you don’t even have any magic at all.”
“You saw it at the funeral,” I protested. “My dress, and my skin—”
“Petty parlor tricks,” someone hissed near my shoulder.
“A trick of the sun,” another called out from my side.
Jean gave an exaggerated pout. “See what I mean? I told them it can’t possibly be true. You’re the Crown. Of course you have magic.”
“I do.”
“Because if you didn’t…” A whirlpool of shadows churned in his navy eyes. “A Crown without magic would make our realm vulnerable. It would put a target on us all. If the mortal filth didn’t attack, the other realms surely would.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and sauntered in a slow circle around me. I kept my face fixed ahead in a brazen—and perhaps foolish—signal that I considered him no threat.
“And in that unfortunate case,” he continued as he walked, “every House would be duty-bound to Challenge that Crown. It would be our responsibility to safeguard our people.”
I lifted my eyes to the ceiling and tried not to lose myself in fantasies of dragging House Hanoverre to the dungeon en masse.
“It’s a good thing, then, that your Queen has no such issue,” I drawled.
“Prove it,” a voice behind me sneered.
“Prove it,” another repeated.
“Prove it.”
“Prove it.”
The Hanoverres echoed the statement until it was nearly a chant, a hushed drumbeat that had Jean’s arrogance growing with every strike.
“You know how it is with rumors,” he said. “Eliminate them early, or they take on a life of their own.”
I shifted into his walking path, forcing him to a halt. “Perhaps I didn’t make it clear enough earlier to your family how willing I am to eliminate anyone who spreads lies about me.”
He shrugged, unmoved by my threat. “Then prove it’s a lie. Surely someone as powerful as a Crown should have no trouble giving us a display.”
“I don’t have to prove myself to anyone.”
“What are you afraid of, Diem?” he asked with mock innocence. “It’s just a little magic.”