Page 296 of Vasmora
“What would you like to see happen?” I asked, taking a small sip of my drink. Knowing that Rykaia would be hawking my glass all night, intent on keeping it filled to the brim, I’d made the decision early on to drink slowly.
Calisza shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“You can’t think of anything you’d like to see done differently?” Rykaia’s question carried an air of boredom.
“Well, I’d love to get rid of Becoming Ceremonies. They’re so … medieval.”
Rykaia lifted her brows.
Calisza frowned. “I can do that?”
“You’re going to be queen.” Rykaia leaned forward, mindlessly adjusting one of the wings on my dress. “You can do whatever the fuck you want.”
Calisza seemed to chew on those words for a moment, then as if the realization had finally dawned on her, her eyes widened. “You’re right. No more Becoming Ceremonies.” She gestured with her glass and took a sip. “In fact, from now on, it’ll be a day to celebrate young girls with … cakes and dancing, and … no fighting, or forced intimacy.”
Rykaia smirked and raised her glass again. “Oh, I think I’m going to like having a woman in charge.”
“And … I want equal distribution of vivicantem,” Calisza went on. “No more sanitation spray in The Hovel. I want clinics there to help spindling children get the proper nutrition. And perhaps I can speak with Dolion about having the House of Sages send volunteers to help with reading.”
The enthusiasm in her voice brought a smile to my face. “I think you’re going to make a fine queen, Your Excellency.”
“Your mother would be proud,” Rykaia added.
Calisza rolled her shoulders back and cleared her throat. “Goodness, this isn’t about me. Today is about you and Zevander.” She took my hand in hers. “I can’t tell you how much it pleases me to see the two of you bonded. My gift to you is the royal suite at the Pool of Ages.”
“Pool of Ages?”
“Luxurious hot springs.” Allura clasped her palms together, drawing my attention to the scar on the back of her hand where it’d had been pierced. “The views are said to be breathtaking. I’ve dreamed of seeing it one day.”
Brow raised, Rykaia ran her finger over the rim of her glass. “Perhaps we’ll go together.”
“Perhaps we will.” Allura smiled and leaned in to kiss her.
I turned toward Calisza and bowed my head. “Thank you for your gracious gift, Your Highness.”
“Please. Call me Calisza. Until I’m crowned and brimming with obligations, it’s what I prefer.”
Smiling, I nodded. “Very well. Thank you, Calisza. Will you excuse me?”
“Of course.”
“Abandoning us for the men, are we?” Rykaia narrowed her eyes and sipped her drink.
I sailed a smirk back at her and sauntered toward Zevander, who stood alongside Lothare and Dolion. Torryn and Kazhimyr strode up as I approached, and Zevander turned toward me, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he wrapped his arm around my waist in a way that felt possessive. It was the first time I’d seen him in public without a mask, aside from our time in Mortasia.
“Ah, there she is. The lovely Lady Rydainn.” Lothare took a step back, gaze sweeping over me from head to toe. “And my, my, you are a vision of beauty. If you weren’t his mate …” He pressed his lips together. “Mmmmm.” A smile pulled at his lips when he shifted his gaze toward Zevander, clearly taunting him.
“Careful,” Zevander said, his tone flat. “I’m not opposed to spilling royal blood.”
Lothare chuckled and flicked his attention back to me. “I was just telling your stubborn mate that my father has become gravely ill since the plague ended. He’s agreed to step down and pass the crown on to me.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful news! Of your succession, of course.”
“You’ll make a fine king,” Zevander said in a reluctant tone. “A fair king.”
“A better king, if you chose to join me in Solassios.”
“I regret to decline.” Zevander took another swill of his drink and stared down at me, his eyes fixed on my dress. Specifically, the slit at the thigh.
