Page 161 of Burn Her They Said
A shiver climbs the column of my spine from the threat contained within such dangerous longing.
“I think you look stunning,” Lars says, deepening my flush.
“Beautiful,” Cirrin adds.
Malin quirks his head to the side and smiles. “Equisite.”
“Gorgeous.” Fray gives an approving gesture as they all openly admire me to cover for Varic’s slip of the tongue.
Warmth spreads throughout my limbs from the way they protect their Leader, as he acted in accordance with his impulsive nature.
“Step down and stay still,” Drusilla commands, applying concealer to my neck and chest—everywhere I flush when Varic looks at me. She returns the cosmetic to the vanity, then leaves the suite without a word.
Amusement spirals through me every time Fray stares down at my skirts, seemingly entranced with the fluid movement as we make our way to the dining hall, where only time will tell how long this sensation remains, once we are in our captor’s presence again.
Lanska lowers into a curtsy and announces my arrival to the Grand Dining Hall, where I stand transfixed by the mural depicting the Goddess of the Harvest on the opposite wall. Flowy blue fabric drapes across her warm brown skin as she casually reclines on a throne made up of roots beneath a large oak tree. Streams of sunlight cast down around white, fluffy clouds, highlighting her wise brown eyes, which pin the viewer in place as she reaches for the golden bowl of cherries beside her.
Varic clears his throat to pull me from my reverie, and I turn to find the Queen watching me. She grins from her silver dining throne set in the center of the long white table, framed by tall silver candelabras.
“Pleased you could join us.” She raises her glass in greeting, as every eye in the room shifts to track my movement.
Her witches-in-waiting assess me with an unnerving acuity while I do everything I can to keep from staring at them.
Emperor Aldritch sits across from the Queen, with his back to me. Wyrth sits to his left, almost entirely obscured by his Guards and Imelda. His Majesty pats the empty chair to his right in command as I near them. Raki tilts its head to the side as it seems to watch me lower into a curtsy.
Fray pulls my chair from the table, and the Queen lifts a brow in question at Varic. She tips a glass of sparkling pink wine to her equally vibrant lips while Fray assists me by pushing my chair in. I try to ignore the weight of eyes on my being while waiting for Anya to squeeze past the wall of Guards to act as my taster. The servant doing the same for His Majesty is a sorcerer who moves to the edge of the table on his other side, while the same happens with Wyrth’s—displacing Imelda to stand behind his Guards.
Anya curtsies and repeats the maneuver she used with the tea, producing a small spoon from the pocket of her apron to take a sample as I turn to the Emperor and await his permission. He stares at Anya while an awkward silence falls over the room. The suspense of every being watching this spectacle rattles my nerves until I focus on appreciating the beauty in each floral arrangement adorning the table with delicate pink and white petals overflowing the silver vases.
Emperor Aldritch finally tips his chin in assent, to which Anya curtsies before taking her place behind our sworn protectors.
The Queen stares as I lift the glass—then freeze when His Majesty sends Raki to settle over my shoulder. I swallow nothing as it crawls in a circle before settling. I pull in a breath and tip the glass back to dutifully taste their infamous wine, allowing my natural reaction to come through as my eyes widen in surprise.
“Delicious, isn’t it?” the Queen asks, smirking confidently.
“It truly is.” A shudder rolls down my spine as I do my best to hide it with Raki casting its stinger-tipped tail over the curve of my neck.
The Queen flares her nostrils at the hybrid before shifting her attention to His Majesty. “What is the status of your investigation, Emperor?”
He covers his cough with a blue cloth napkin before saying, “Your Council has been most helpful. Our detectives have appreciated the level of access you have granted to your military leaders and documentation. Though I am concerned to know your military has not been monitoring the rebel groups rumored to be hiding in the outskirts of the forest.”
“To which do you refer?” Queen Celine asks icily.
“You are aware of the rebel groups organizing in your own forests, are you not?”
“Of course. Though our leadership may differ, since I refuse to waste military spending on monitoring civilians who choose to organize in this manner. Should there be credible reports of any disruption or destruction, then we will investigate.”
The hairs on the back of my neck rise as His Majesty’s mood shifts drastically, needing me to siphon his irritation and rage until a slight tremor rolls through me.
Cirrin must notice, as the cool touch of his magic winds its way up my spine until I am able to channel the Queen’s calm demeanor, snaking a tendril of the same with a bit of focus into the Emperor.
“I apologize, Your Royal Highness. I assumed you would have more knowledge of the unsanctioned militarized actions taking place in your land.” His Majesty raises a glass of the sparkling wine he fails to commend.
“As I stated, this is one more area where we differ in our leadership.”
“So it is,” Emperor Aldritch agrees, with a suspicious air of satisfaction.
My Guards step apart, allowing a server to place a bowl of chilled vegetable soup before me, and I dutifully wait for Anya to repeat the routine.
