Page 111 of This Shattered Star

No news about his father, either. The maids’ lips were sewn shut, and it was almost as though they’d been ordered to steer clear of my own wing.

Artists from each corner of Aedreath painted portrait after portrait of my face in commemoration, the soft patter of bristles against their canvases slowly driving me mad. I could hardly sit still. Could barely hold the poses I’d been instructed to keep. I didn’t smile once, but that did not deter the artists from painting one onto my face anyway.

And they always got the color of my right iris wrong. Either too bright, too muted, or exaggerated amounts of red that made it seem like the Underworld had taken hold of me.

One of the artists even had the nerve to paint it pink.

Those paintings held a vibrancy that I did not. No one seemed to notice an empty husk sat before them, waiting to crumble and disappear.

My fingers dug into the folds of my gown as I shifted, muscles unbearably stiff from sitting for so long. The chair underneath me groaned in protest.

Another painter sat apposite to me. Mercifully, he was silent while he worked. His paintsmovedacross the canvas with his brush strokes, courtesy of his water-wielding magic working with the moisture of the colors. The last time I caught a glimpse of his progress, the brown shades of my hair were gliding down the shape of my shoulders while the hues for my skirts branched out to meet the firmer lines he was creating.

He brought with him a small pot of herb oil to burn, which filled my room with the scent of lavender, chamomile, and sweet nodes of honeysuckle. For the first time in three days, my shoulders relaxed, the familiar smell of chamomile coating the insides of my lungs. It felt as though my mother—therealher, not the nightmarish version—stood behind me.

Was this how she’d felt after she’d won? Empty, and undeserving?

No, surely not. More than anything, she was a determined woman. Never did her steps falter. If she saw something she wanted, she took it without pause.

Heels clicked behind me.

“So this is where you’ve been rotting away.”

All the tension I’d lost returned tenfold. “I don’t recall requesting your presence, Diana.”

Her pungent perfume mixed with the smell of the burning herbs as she stepped around me and peered at the artist’s unfinished work. She didn’t bother hiding her sneer of distain. “I see that winning has only served to amplify your disrespect.” A cursory glance at my dress. “A title will not erase the stain you’ve left upon the kingdom.”

“Is this all you’ve come to tell me? As you can see, I am rather occupied. You’re wasting precious time. Yours, mine, his,” a half-hearted gesture to the artist, “it’s rather embarrassing.”

The artist glanced up from his painting. Still, he said nothing.

Diana laughed, a cruel thing that would normally have sent my hackles raising. But I met her icy glare head-on. And didn’t feel a damned thing.

“You will find out soon enough that magic alone does not equate to true power. You are still worthless. Willalwaysbe worthless, under the eyes of the gods. Best remember they chosemeto keep you in line, and that has not changed.”

“I don’t recall any law obliging a Starlight Champion to answer to stone-hearted bitches. But I suppose you wouldn’t know either, would you?” Cocking my head to the side, I remained unblinking as I said, “I answer to no one.”

Diana’s face reddened with fury. Her fingers splayed, and I braced for impact.

“If I may.”

Our eyes snapped to the artist.

He cleared his throat, paintbrush wavering mid-air. “Pardon the interruption, Lady Fennhaven, but you are disrupting my work. His Majesty specifically requested this painting and promised severe consequences for any mishaps.” He glanced at her purposefully. “For any faults on the canvas, or to anything that would cause it.”

“I do believe a very unfortunate mishap is already standing in this room, Henri. Best proceed with caution.”

Heart pounding, I twisted in my seat. “Kodhan,” I gasped.

He filled the doorframe, with one shoulder leaning on the hinges. He took his time scanning every inch of me, his gaze snagging briefly on my face. The hollowness under my eyes. A bit of warmth fought against the icy tundra warring inside of me.

His lips curved in a slow smile. “Hello, little viper.”

“You should not be here,” Diana spat at him.

“Last I checked, neither should you.”

A breath of relief immediately deflated my lungs as she stomped away from me. “I’ll have your father punish you for your disrespect.”