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“How do you know?” I asked, curiously.

“Because it’s been in our family since the beginning of the dynasty, and we have numerous records of it. There are paintings of past rulers wearing it, and descriptions in old ballads. There are no jewels.”

I had nothing to add to that, and so remained silent, waiting for him to come back out of his own deep thoughts.

“In any case,” he said after a moment, shaking his head as if to clear it. “I think we should try the coronation. If it doesn’t work then we can always keep researching, or perhaps travel to other cities and see if their libraries hold different information.”

I grimaced. “I suppose there’s no reason to say no.”

He flashed me a grin. “That’s got to be the least enthusiastic ‘yes’ I’ve ever heard from a woman, but in this case I’ll take it.”

I didn’t share his smile. “I suppose at least someone will be happy. Idris will get that party he’s been lobbying for.”

Ambrose shrugged, still looking pleased and I couldn’t bring myself to disappoint him. As I’d said, there was really no good reason to deny having a coronation. It wasn’t much effort on my part, and if Ambrose was somehow right then it would be possibly the most important thing I’d ever done.

Still, for some reason I felt uneasy.

It was like a premonition, warning me of danger but not specifically what that danger was.

Days later, I would reflect that I should have listened to that gut feeling. Then, maybe everyone would still be alive.

12

LONNIE

THE GROUNDS OF THE OBSIDIAN PALACE, EVERLAST CITY

If I’d thought I’d have time to talk Ambrose out of the coronation, I was woefully and painfully wrong.

I assumed it would take weeks if not months to plan an event of that scale, but I’d wildly underestimated both Ambrose’s determination for the coronation to succeed, and the staff’s ability to make a party appear at barely a moment’s notice.

Therefore it was only two days later when I walked down the castle steps toward the lit clearing on the edge of the woods with all the enthusiasm of a prisoner approaching the gallows. It felt similar to the time I’d had to walk down to nearly the exact same spot before the first hunt. Except this time, I didn’t have Bael there to protect me.

Arriving with Bael was out of the question. Partly because no one had yet forgotten that he’d paraded me around like a pet during the hunting season, and partly because he had a well-earned reputation as being both terrifyingly dangerous, and somethingof a drunken slut who had fucked his way through every tavern in the capital.

I’d assumed, therefore, that they’d want me to walk in with Scion, who might have been feared by every man woman and child on the continent, but at least held on to some princely refinement in public.

Again, I was wrong.

Evidently, everything that had ever been said about Bael could also be said about Scion ten times over, with the added issue that he’d killed literally thousands at the behest of Queen Celia.

I’d suggested, entirely seriously, that we should be honest and the three of us should enter together. Unfortunately, I’d been shut down once more. Apparently I didn’t want to give myself the reputation of being dangerous, murderous and unstable–no matter how accurate that perception might be.

In the end, we’d all agreed that it would be best for me to be seen arriving at the party alone. We might have been doing this for the sake of the curse, but there was some political benefit as well which could easily be ruined by a single wrong step.

I wasn’t sure when I started understanding or caring about political nuance, but for once, I wasn’t complaining.

As I no longer had a dedicatedmaid, and I couldn’t bring myself to choose one from the mishmash of rebels and former palace staff who’d lived through the attack on the castle, I dressed myself in a plum purple gown that was both easy enough to put on without help and elegant enough for the occasion. The soft fabric draped effortlessly over my hips, and the intricatedesign of the bodice hugged my figure in all the right places. Its flowing skirt cascaded down to the ground, rustling with each step I took.

As I walked down the winding path towards the clearing, the distant sound of laughter and music grew louder. The forest around me was alive with fireflies and will-o-wisps, their glowing bodies creating a soft, ethereal light. Dozens of colorful tents dotted the area, each one adorned with intricate patterns and glowing from within.. The sound of fiddle music filled my ears, accompanied by the occasional burst of laughter and chatter from the party-goers.

Suddenly, I was hit with the strongest sense of deja-vu.

I held my breath for a moment, fearful that the music would cause me to sway on my feet or forget where I was going, yet nothing happened.

I supposed that was yet another thing to have been changed by my magic. I was no longer susceptible to fairy music—or perhaps, I was finally hearing it as it was meant to be enjoyed.

I made my way into the clearing, nodding and greeting anyone who caught my eye. The party was a sea of dazzling faeries, their ethereal beauty enhanced by the flickering lights and lively music. I wondered briefly who they all were. The castle had been mostly empty for weeks–but then, I supposed that the nobles of the high Fae didn’t live within the castle. These were the same city-dwelling nobles who I’d once been terrified to draw the attention of.