Page 129

“For once, I can agree with you,” Kieran drawled from my other side.

Wealthy mortals weren’t the only ones in attendance, standing in groups or sprawled across thick, crimson settees, their fingers and necks dripping with costly jewels, and their stomachs full of the treats served by silent servants.

The Ascended surrounded us.

Lords and Ladies existed among the others like empty voids, their jewels larger, their stares darker, and their stomachs likely full of a different kind of treat.

The mortals kept stealing curious glances in our direction, their stares lingering on the two beside me for reasons that had nothing to do with why they looked upon me. They were rather covert about it. Meanwhile, the Ascended gawked openly.

“They stare because they find you two appealing to look upon. They stare at me because I’m flawed,” I told them. “And they cannot figure out why I would be among them.”

“What the hell?” Reaver muttered, frowning.

“The mortal elite of Solis mimic the Royals, and the Ascended covet all things beautiful. Look at them,” I advised. “They’re all perfect in one way or another. Beautiful.”

Reaver scowled. “That’s the stupidest godsdamn thing I’ve heard in a while, and I’ve heard a lot of stupid.”

I shrugged, a little surprised by the fact that I wasn’t bothered. The idea of any of them seeing the scars had once been mortifying to consider, even though I had always been proud of them—of what I had survived. But I had been a different person then—someone who cared about the opinions of the wealthy and the Royals.

I couldn’t care less now.

My gaze flicked to where the Royal Guards stood at the entrance. They too watched, as did the Handmaidens. Millicent had disappeared to the gods only knew where. Time was of the essence, she’d said, and it was. The eather pulsed in my chest. I was growing very impatient.

The Blood Queen knew I was here, and she kept me waiting. It was a silly power move. She’d put me in this chamber because she believed I would behave myself among so many mortals.

Mortals who had no idea a god was among them.

The urge to change that was hard to resist. I touched the ring through my tunic. If I had learned anything, it was that my actions could have unintended consequences. Ones that wouldn’t only end with someone being harmed but could further brand me as the Harbinger. So, I waited. Impatiently. And while I did, I watched the knights. About half of them stood with the unnatural stiffness of the Handmaidens. Their chests didn’t move too much. They didn’t twitch or shift. They rarely blinked.

“I think there are Revenants among the Royal Guards,” I quietly said.

“Would make sense,” Kieran observed. “Less easy to pick out than having them run around in red robes.”

Finally, the guards stepped aside and opened ornate gold doors. Two Handmaidens entered first, their cowls in place, covering their hair and casting their painted faces in shadows. The Blood Queen walked in behind them, still dressed in white.

I lowered my hands to my sides. Anger pulsed so furiously through me that I truly believed I deserved some sort of recognition for not unleashing my rage right there. For just standing still as the mortals and Ascended bowed to her. The three of us did no such thing, and that didn’t go unnoticed. Shock fell like icy rain from the mortals as they rose. Whispers whirled through the chamber as the small orchestra continued playing from their corner.

Kieran stiffened beside me, and my attention briefly shifted to the man who’d entered behind Isbeth.

Malik.

I let my senses stretch to him, and like before, I hit shields as thick as his father’s.

The Blood Queen drifted through the crowd, doling out pretty smiles and brief embraces. Her diamond and ruby crown glittered under the bright chandelier as she turned her head toward me, and her stare met mine.

My heart didn’t pound.

My pulse didn’t speed up.

My hands and body were steady.

There was no fear or anxiety. I wasn’t nothing. I was just icy, banked rage which had infiltrated every cell of my being as she crossed the chamber, the hem of her gown trailing behind her. In other words, I was rather calm.

I held her stare as the cowled Handmaidens followed her and Malik. The guards had moved, taking up stations every so many feet, creating a staggered wall between us and those in attendance.

Isbeth stopped a mere foot from me, that warm and caring smile still upon her berry-red lips. Those dark but not endless eyes flickered over my attire. “This isn’t what I sent you to wear.”

Fury blasted off Kieran, so hot and intense I wouldn’t have been surprised if it had ignited a fire. But I…I was nothing but that cold rage. “I know.”

I saw a slight tightening at the corners of her lips as her eyes rose to mine. “What you wear isn’t befitting of a Queen.”