Page 65 of Destined Dawn

“The feast?” Rhi prompts and with a jerk he sets off down the corridor.

I follow Rhi, watching her back and wishing it were me with my hand on her waist, me whispering into her ear and me making her laugh.

“It’s hard taking turns,” the assassin says right by my ear, making me jolt. He looks almost respectable with his baby-smooth face and his tux. Or else he would if it weren’t for the ink crawling up his neck and the fact he’s insisted on wearing his boots with the tux and refused the bowtie outright no matter how hard Rhi begged.

“What do you mean?” I ask, a frown forming on my brow.

“With the girl. It’s hard waiting out your turn.”

“I wasn’t … I didn’t …”

“Although you do enjoy just watching her, right?”

“What?” I mutter. The man is hard to follow.

“You like watching her. You spend a lot of time doing it.”

“Bullshit,” I say.

“Huh,” he says, eyes boring into me. “Could’ve sworn it was you watching her all those nights back at the academy.”

I feel a chill judder down my spine. How the hell does he know about that? Should I confess to it? Deny it? Take him by the scruff of the neck and ask how the hell hewouldknow that? But before I get the chance, he’s fallen back and is attempting to make small talk with Spencer next. I mean, I guess I have to give points to the dude for trying.

Our guide halts at the end of the corridor and the rest of us do too. Then he turns to us.

“Your father will want to announce your arrival,” he says before disappearing. We wait in the dark corridor, hearing the chatter of many voices behind the great door in front of us. Then there’s the blast of trumpets and those voices fall silent.

“Loyal subjects of the Western Kingdom. I have gathered you all here tonight for a great celebration.” We hear the Black Prince’s voice boom from behind that door. “Today, the royal princess, my daughter, has been returned to me. She has returned.”

There is a stunned hush followed by loud cheers and applause. Whether it’s genuine or not, I can’t tell. But I’m no fool. I’ve seen how deftly the cheerleaders could cheer for us, could paw all over us, while secretly bitching us out behind our backs – particularly whatever girl it was who’d had her heart broken or her ego dented.

“Tonight we celebrate!” the Black Prince roars above all the noise and the great doors swing back to reveal a huge ballroom – at least three times as big as the Great Hall back at the academy – rammed with magicals all dressed in dark robes and dark dresses, all their gazes trained our way. No, not our way. Rhi’s way – standing among the five of us.

The ballroom itself is vaulted like the chapel at the convent, except here everything is made from dark, slick metal, no stone in sight, with fires flickering in the corners, throwing moving shadows up against the walls. Long tables run the length of the room, along which the magicals sit.

The Prince himself waits at a table on a raised platformat the head of the room, his chair far bigger and more ornately carved than any of the others and on his head balances a crown of jet black metal. He no longer wears his leather suit, but a long black robe, embroidered with scarlet, the pattern making him look as if the flames from the fire are flickering around his very body.

He holds out his hand in our direction.

“Come, daughter. Come, Princess. Take your rightful place beside me.”

Rhi hesitates, eyes darting to us, and then she walks forward, through the middle of the tables, the magicals watching her intently, clapping as they do with all their might.

I’m reminded of that first day she showed up at school. Of how she’d walked the length of the Great Hall, out of uniform, dressed in jeans and a hoodie, her hair all scruffy, not a smudge of makeup on her face, chin raised in defiance, not caring at all about the people gaping and whispering around her.

There’s that same defiance now, that same determination. Life will throw all sorts of shit at Rhianna and yet she always remains on her goddamn feet, resolved never to fall. My heart swells with pride for her.

Maybe we are wrong to be so wary. Rhi is a fucking queen. Sitting on a throne is where she should be. Maybe this is exactly where fate intended to take us after all.

The five of us follow after her, those gazes examining us with just as much interest, and when we reach the high table, I see there are spaces for all of us.

The Black Prince points to another elaborate, albeit smaller, chair beside him.

“Sit beside me, daughter,” he commands. Then hepoints to the chair on his other side. This one perfectly normal. “And you too, Kennedy.”

I judder. He knows my name. Knows who I am.

I walk around the table, taking my seat, eyes watching Rhi the entire time. The others take their seats too and I notice from the corner of my gaze how they’re scanning the crowd, looking for danger.