Page 10 of A Crown of Tears and Treason (The Curse of Silver Secrets and Cruel Shadows #1)

Chapter

Ten

EVIE

“ I t’s…huge,” I said to no one in particular as I stared up at the humongous carved doors.

None of the two dozen guards surrounding me said a word. They never did.

Since they’d become my guards–as if I could ever trust a Blood Brotherhood member with my life–they’d been escorting me everywhere.

Stalking was the word. They were stalking me. They stomped behind me in-sync, thundering against the ground, letting everyone exactly where I was at all times. My skin crawled as we passed the few citizens I’d seen in the Citadel, each of them staring long and hard at the stranger among them.

Walking had turned into a spectacle. I didn’t like it. At all. So many curious eyes on me…

I was used to hiding. All this attention made me want to vanish behind the first massive column and just take a breath. But that would have been a show of weakness, and I didn’t want to disappoint grandpa Constantine more than I had, may the gods cradle his kind soul.

Now I had to meet the king and queen of the Blood Brotherhood Clan. My–gods help me–future in-laws. My stomach hadn’t stopped roiling since this morning.

Staring up at the entrance to their throne room did not help. Their entire golden palace was bigger and mightier than the entire Protectorate high command in Aquila, rising high above the Citadel on marble steps flanked with guardian statues.

I kept on staring at the red doors. Firmly shut and casting their gigantic shadow on me, the wood carvings on them depicted bitter battles with dozens, hundreds of fighters and creatures.

The doorframe was flecked with gold–or made out of gold–reflecting light on the more gory details and the twin dragon sculptures guarding the top of the entrance.

I gulped. Everything in the Citadel was menacing and huge.

The dark high walls shielding us from the jungle. The houses. The trees, the plants, the statues, the people. Everything and everyone loomed over me, in this hauntingly organized bastion.

No wandering in the streets, no dawdling, and definitely no littering. There wasn’t even dust on the streets. I’d been marching for almost half an hour from my house, and the hem of my long, gauzy dress was still as clean as the moment I’d slipped it on. It was so silky and fine against my body, I almost felt naked.

Definitely not the right emotion for meeting the king and queen of the Blood Brotherhood.

But I was here, I was clean, my pendant hung around my neck with the strength of the Protectorate, and my switchblade was tucked in my sleeve.

I was as ready to meet royalty as I’d ever be.

Then why wasn’t I moving?

I stood in front of those doors like some stronger version of me would liquefy and face whatever awaited me on the other side.

I took a deep, centering breath, rolling my shoulders back. I could do this. My first official royal–

“I hear she’s a meager little thing,” a hefty, disinterested voice slithered from behind the doors.

What in the–

I stood perfectly still, ears straining to hear. It was almost a whisper, but not quite. Gods, if this was the king–

“We need to take a good look at her ourselves,” another voice said. A woman who elongated her vowels too much.

“They say she has no power. If true, that’s a waste of good Vegheara blood.”

They ? Who in the underworld was he talking about? And who, aside from Zandyr, knew I couldn’t cast a single spell to save my life?

“Not pretty, either. No sonnets will be written for her,” the first voice said again, followed by a nasty little laugh.

“Maybe with some more meat on her bones. Skinny like a beanpole, I hear.” A melodramatic sigh. “The prince will feed her, we can’t count on starvation.”

“Pity, that. But if she doesn’t have power…”

“One less thing we have to worry about. But if she has a good pair of hips, she might have four, five kids in her.”

“She doesn’t sound interesting enough past the wedding night. Otherwise, her coming here is not good.”

No, what wasn’t good were these two people talking about me. Gods above, these were my future in-laws? Discussing me like I was a sow ready for calving? An emaciated sow, at that.

My blood boiled. Before I knew it, I stalked up the last steps. The grand doors swung open as I neared, blowing a soft, lemony breeze against my face.

I stopped in my tracks. Magic. Magical doors that revealed a golden colossus of a throne room.

I couldn’t decide if the hall had more columns or guards, but they were both equally still.

With my shoulders squared and grandpa Constantine’s words of encouragement cooing in the back of my mind, I stepped forward, making sure I didn’t trip on the many layers swaddling me.

Meager little thing . I thought I was, in some ways, but hearing it out loud…

My footsteps echoed on the dark marble floor flecked with gold filigree. Dragons, carved out of wood, stone, and precious rocks guarded the interior as well.

One of them snaked all the way from the wall up to the golden chandelier hanging from the web of wooden beams.

It felt like a cathedral, high and mighty.

Two empty thrones speared the end of the room, sitting atop a crimson platform. On its right side, two more golden seats, smaller and without the Blood Brotherhood symbol, were already occupied.

Two people overfilled the chairs with their massive robes; yards upon yards of fabric must’ve gone into cushioning their behinds.

They couldn’t have been the king and queen.

The man had a long, plump face, with cheeks so beefy, he had to squint his dark eyes. He had a long red beard that fell past his protruding belly, slick with oil until it shined. He hadn’t gone hungry a single day in his life, had he?

The woman was a narrow thing, with a long neck and an angular face that reminded me of a snake. How that small neck could hold up her enormous jewel-encrusted headdress was beyond me.

They both stared down at me with their narrowed, beady eyes.

The guard with the tallest helmet stepped forward from the wall.

“Their Excellencies, Grand Advisors of the Blood Brotherhood Clan, Custodians of the Three Holy Temples and the Official Archives, Lord and Lady of the Northern Isles, and Illustrious Leaders of the Blood Brotherhood Senate of Sages, Banu and Valuta Kovetmore, of the noble Kovetmore family,” the guard managed to say in one full breath. Lungs like a lion, that one. “I present to you the Lost Daughter of the Protectorate Clan.”

Short, easy, and wrong. Lost Daughter was rumor fodder, not an official title. Before I could interject, Valuta leaned forward, her snake neck bending at an unnatural angle.

“Come, dear,” Valuta said in a sickly sweet voice, fanning herself lazily with a silk fan. The whispers were gone, but the vowels were there. “You can approach, you don’t have to worry.”

My instincts told me I very much did. The urge to run coursed through me and I had to force myself to stand still. All the guards looked ahead, unbothered.

If I hadn’t heard their poisoned whispers, I would’ve said Banu and Valuta were doing an excellent job at playing friendly. I wondered how far they would take the charade.

“I was told I’d meet the king and queen,” I said.

Valuta made a dramatic gesture with her fan; I was struck by the overwhelming impulse to snap it in half.

“You know royals, fashionably late.” She let out a trickle of a laugh; it sounded grating. “How are you finding the Blood Brotherhood so far? The throne room must be quite a sight compared to that dingy little cottage hidden at the back of the Citadel.”

That dingy cottage had more gold in it than the entire Protectorate high command. I didn’t care.

“Very different from the Protectorate,” I said.

Banu scoffed, but he quieted when Valuta placed a gentle hand on his protruding knee. “Yes, we’ve heard you have very different ideals when it comes to proper hierarchy, as you’ve probably seen.”

“You mean the kneeling?” I asked.

“Yes. Such an appropriate show of reverence.” Valuta trickled a laugh. “The Kovetmores are second only to the royal family. Everyone kneels in front of us.”

I raised a brow. I didn’t know enough about my own Clan to argue with her. I also didn’t want to reveal I’d heard their mutters–and tell them what? That I wasn’t livestock? They could have pretended I hadn’t heard right, like my parents did the few times I’d questioned their words.

I knew one thing for sure–nobody had been forced to kneel in front of me back home.

Valuta’s eyes bore into mine. I didn’t back down, meeting her gaze with my steeled one. My little defiant act.

They stared expectantly at me. Waiting for a kneel. At least a curtsy.

The silence around us turned smothering as I held my ground. But I was suddenly struck with a pressure at the back of my head as Valuta’s gaze darkened. Maybe kneeling wasn’t such a bad–

A wooden panel behind the main thrones slid to the side, breaking the uncomfortable staring contest. My gaze slid away from Valuta’s and I shook my head, dislodging the curious sensation.

Out came two of the most beautiful people I had ever seen. No cloud of pomp and circumstance around them, but they were obviously royal, from how their crowns glistened, down to the graceful way they carried themselves. Backs straight, shoulders wide and taking as much space as they pleased. They had an air of power and weren’t afraid if people sensed it. Like my cousins.

But…there was something off about them. They seemed young . A-few-years-older-than-me young. But…that didn’t make any sense.

The same guard who had announced the advisors stepped forward. “King Eldryan and Queen Zavoya Rohenstorm, of the Rohen Dynasty.”

Quick, easy, and to the point. They both had stark black hair that fell straight down their backs, with cheekbones as high as their crowns. Zavoya had the kind of face that people paid good money to the Morgana Clan to glamor their features into, but hers seemed devoid of magic. Eldryan had strong eyebrows that slanted upwards, just like–

“–and Crown Prince Zandyr,” the guard finished before stepping back.

Another shiver raced down my back as Zandyr stepped through the secret door. The king and queen walked to their thrones hand in hand, poised and light as the air that surrounded them. Meanwhile, Zandyr strode down the steps toward me with quick, powerful strides. His eyes slashed toward the advisors, who had risen and bowed dramatically to the royals.

He sent them that same edged grin he’d used on the guests at my wedding. “Banu, Valuta, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Well.” Valuta fanned herself, giddy with the prince’s attention. “We know your training sessions can go on longer than you plan. We wanted to make sure our guest felt welcomed.”

“How attentive of you,” Zandyr said. “I didn’t know this meeting was public knowledge.”

“Now, Your Highness, we have to know everything that goes on in our great Capital, after all.”

“Of course.” Zandyr’s grin vanished as soon as his back turned to the advisors. Instead, his gaze narrowed on me.

“Why do you look like that?” he mouthed.

I narrowed my gaze right back. What was that supposed to mean? “Like what?”

“Like you’ve seen a ghost,” he muttered as he came to stand next to me, shoulder to shoulder, facing the royals and the advisors.

I didn’t know what had gotten into me, but there was something unnerving in this room. Either the way the advisors had sized me up or whatever the underworld was going on with the king and queen, I couldn’t decide.

I looked at Zandyr from the corner of my eye. There was no way they could be his paren–

“Mother, father,” he began, calm, commanding voice filling the entirety of this giant throne room. “I’d like you to formally meet Evie, my betrothed.”

Maybe he was adopted. The king and queen seemed more like his siblings.

“Honored to meet you, Evie.” Zavoya sent a dazzling smile my way. The luster of her attention was intoxicating. One look, and she made you feel as respendlant as her.

I gulped, trying to break free from her charm. “Likewise, Your Highness.”

“Forgive us for being late, we got a little heated in training.” Eldryan smiled pointendly at Zandyr, who remained still as a rock. “My son had it out for me today.”

There was a thin sheen of sweat on both of their faces. Envy scratched at my soul. Not only did Zandyr’s father let him train, but he helped him do it.

“I wonder what got you so riled up today, Zandyr.” Zayova chuckled before her gaze moved back to me. “So you are the woman who threatened to kill my son.”

My cheeks instantly reddened. “I–tried.”

Awful liar.

The king and queen burst out laughing, looking at each other with nothing but love.

“The best women always do.” Eldryan kissed the back of Zavoya’s hand; her cheeks reddened.

I suddenly felt like we should all leave them alone to get on with whatever those heated looks between them promised.

More and more curious. How could two loving parents like this produce an unflinching, cold-blooded murderer like the one standing next to me and giving off nothing but a pissed-off energy?

“She didn’t threaten, exactly,” Zandyr said.

“No, I jumped straight to it,” I said.

Zandyr shook his head. “You have a bad habit of wanting to stab your grooms.”

“At least I succeeded the first time.”

“Barely. Fabrian got a knick.”

“Hey! He bled.”

“He could still move and come after you,” Zandyr said. “You need to learn how to fight. Properly.”

I stuck my chin out. “I can handle my own.”

“Not against someone like me.”

“Why, are you planning on attacking me anytime soon?”

His furious gaze slashed my way. “I’d never touch you. In any way.”

I fought the instinct to flinch back. That didn’t sound like a promise of safety–it sounded like a vow to stay as far away from me, his betrothed, as possible. I swallowed past the sudden lump in my throat. I guess the advisors didn’t have to worry about the potential four or five children my hips could apparently withstand.

What, exactly, did a future bride say to her future husband, in front of her future in-laws, when he said he’d never touch her in any way ?

That stung. Not because I was dying to be anywhere near him, but after a lifetime of not being seen as anything other than a docile daughter, a dark part of me rebelled to be more . So much more and wild. I wasn’t a little thing to be tossed to the side or ignored.

Zandyr had said we’d keep our distance. Fine by me. He was only a black cloud of doom, a gorgeous face that hid nothing but casual cruelty. But we didn’t have to announce it.

“Oh, dear,” Zayova’s tender voice broke the stillness. “So that’s why our son wanted to thrash you today.”

Eldryan laughed, but it didn’t sound as relaxed as before. “Guess I have to watch my back during our next session.”

No , I thought grimly. I had to watch my back.

Because nothing made sense in the Citadel and I had no allies here.

Only enemies–starting with Zandyr.