Page 42 of Tree of Ash (The Runic Saga #2)

After the ball would come the coronation. Larissa would officially be Queen.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she responded, but the lack of sleep laced her voice with exhaustion.

Anara noticed. “More dreams?”

“Vereandi grows impatient,” was all Larissa would say. “I’ll have no choice soon but to see what she wants from me.”

“Well, you won’t have to go alone—but first, the crown.”

As a girl, Larissa had dreamed of this day, but it wasn’t happening quite as she’d expected.

Though Anara didn’t say a word, Larissa knew she understood.

With Rubin under control of one of Shiko’s regents, Anara was an unofficial Queen herself.

Larissa vowed silently that she would see Anara restored to her rightful place.

If anyone deserved to rule, after everything she had gone through, it was Anara.

Halla and Kai waited for them in the hall. Tonight, Kai had been outfitted with new clothes, although not as fine as the royals’. He pulled at the black collar in discomfort, stopping quickly when he noticed Larissa’s approach.

Anara was right that Larissa judged him in part due to his origin, but there was something else.

It was the way he watched her out of the corner of his eyes, the slight pause and tensing of his posture whenever she entered the room.

At first, Larissa chalked it up to him feeling awkward in the presence of royalty, but he didn’t react the same way to Anara’s and Darien’s presence.

“Ready?” Larissa asked, determined to put her prejudice behind her.

Halla beamed. “Ready!”

The four wound their way through the palace halls and stairs.

Although the original had been burned down, it appeared the new palace had been constructed as a replica of the old.

Ghosts of Larissa’s past haunted her at every turn.

She ignored the sound of gunfire and her father’s anxious voice calling her name.

A hand settled on her shoulder for a moment. Larissa met Anara’s eyes. They seemed to whisper, I hear it too.

It was a relief when the sound of music and laughter swelled, crowding out the other memories in Larissa’s mind.

They arrived at an outer chamber that concealed them from the ballroom, where hundreds of guests awaited their arrival.

At the doors leading into the ballroom stood King Torsten with Darien at his side.

Larissa paused. Darien’s eyes drank in her image before locking on her face.

His expression wasn’t just adoration, but admiration.

Could he see the same thing in her own eyes?

Darien’s suit was dyed in the signature blue of his kingdom. The gold accents representing his new title as Crown Prince were like a slap in the face, reminding Larissa of obstacles that separated them no matter how he felt.

No matter how she felt.

“Could your attendant do nothing for your face?” King Torsten’s question raked harshly against Larissa’s ears. His eyes locked on the scar cut across Larissa’s right cheek.

Larissa smiled, letting her grin pull against the scar. “Even if she could, I would’ve asked her not to. Would you cover up the scar if it was on your face and not mine?”

Kai snorted in surprise, but thankfully, Torsten did not hear it or see how Halla elbowed Kai sharply in the ribs. He tended to ignore them both. Instead, the King turned away, pulling at his gloves. “No matter. It’s time.”

It was only then that Larissa noticed the woman standing behind him.

So this was the second-wife Darien had told her about.

Her face, though beautiful, held no expression.

Larissa couldn’t remember if Torsten had ever said her name.

Larissa moved toward her, if only to introduce herself, when the trumpets on the other side of the door resounded, drawing the music and laughter to a hushed whisper.

Through the opening glass doors, Halvor’s voice could be heard. “Announcing King Torsten and Queen Einsa of the Safír Kingdom, Crown Prince Darien of the Safír Kingdom, Crown Princess Anara of the Rubin Kingdom, and Crown Princess Lovisa of the Perle Kingdom.”

With each of their names, they walked through the threshold, standing at the top of a gigantic staircase before descending. Although Halla’s and Kai’s names had not been called, Larissa walked in with her arm linked through her sister’s. Kai followed like a shadow down the steps.

A mixture of Vienám and Perlians waited for them below. The Jotnar had chosen to remain in the Nordryggen mountains with Torsten’s full support. The longer their alliance remained a secret from Shiko, the greater the advantage.

Larissa followed King Torsten’s lead as he passed through the crowd to the end of the ballroom where five thrones waited.

The center throne was unlike the others, in both size and adornment.

Torsten took the seat on the right of it, with Einsa taking the seat beside her husband’s.

Darien and Anara took the seats on the left.

As this was Larissa’s kingdom, the largest, ornate seat belonged to her.

She paused before it, her breath caught in her throat. She could nearly feel the spirits of her mother and father standing behind her. Blinking away the tears, Larissa took her place.

A cheer from the crowd rose, and the music resumed.

Though King Torsten had outlined how the evening would proceed from here, Larissa found herself lost in the music and the lights.

In all her life, even before Shiko’s betrayal, she’d never been the center of such a celebration.

Around the room, tables laden with every type of food were overflowing.

The floor filled quickly with dancing people whose laughter spoke of freedom and security.

Larissa’s smile only grew larger when she spotted Halla dragging Kai over to one of the dessert tables.

Meanwhile, those who wished to speak with royalty were already forming lines.

“Princess Lovisa, it is an honor to stand before you once again. I knew you could do it.” General Soren bowed before her, the gold in his sash gleaming under the bright lights.

“I’m glad to see you. I wanted to thank you for the way you led your men from the front during the siege. Not all generals would have done that.”

Soren’s face reddened. “It was my pleasure, Your Highness; I would have done anything to free our kingdom from the False Empress.”

Before General Soren could speak further, the next person in line shoved forward, vying for a moment with the Perle Princess.

King Torsten had warned Larissa that much of this night would be spent addressing the crowds, generals and officers as well as common folk.

Everyone would want a moment with her, even just to introduce themselves.

Larissa forced herself to smile and nod, to listen and respond when necessary.

She had always hated the formal small talk that accompanied the festivals her parents had thrown every year, but she would not allow that irritation to show itself now.

Name after name was introduced, and face after face appeared and was replaced by the next one in the queue.

Larissa did her best to remember each but knew she was failing miserably in that regard.

To her right, King Torsten remained just as inundated as Larissa, yet he never seemed to tire.

Even Queen Einsa looked amicable as she nodded at General Aiko.

Larissa forced what she hoped was a neutral expression before turning to greet the next person.

“May I have your first dance?” Darien stood in front of her with one hand extended and a lopsided smile on his face. He leaned in close enough that no one else could hear and added, “Your rescuer has arrived.”

With a smile that finally felt genuine, Larissa grasped his hand, ignoring a pointed look from King Torsten, and followed Darien across the hall. “Your timing couldn’t have been better.”

“You did look a bit like a wrung-out cloth.”

She swooned in mocked exaggeration. “Just what every girl wants to hear.”

“A very beautiful wrung-out cloth,” he amended.

Larissa’s laughter rang out across the tiled floor. Darien could always make her laugh.

“I’ll take it you’ve forgiven me?” he asked.

They hadn’t spoken in the last days about what had taken place with the children of the Perlian aristocrats, or how Darien had sided with his father. Larissa sobered, thinking of Saessae. “You were right.”

“I’m sorry, can you say that again? I don’t think you’ve ever said that to me.”

“Well, don’t get used to it,” she grumbled as he led her to the middle of the floor. She took her place across from him, hearing the first stirrings of music. “I don’t know if I remember how to do this.”

“You can’t blame your memory loss for this one, Lov,” Darien chuckled. “You never were a good dancer.”

“Maybe I just needed a better partner,” she teased, but her retort was cut short as his hand found her waist and her fingertips touched the hair at the base of his collar.

The music swelled, and Darien pulled her closer to him in step with the music. Larissa’s eyes darted to the staring crowd. As the steps took them to the edge of the dance floor, their words floated to her ears.

“. . . killed Hammon without touching him . . .”

“. . . he had it coming, he would’ve killed us all . . .”

“. . . what’s to stop her from killing someone else . . .”

Darien’s lips brushed against her ear. “Ignore them.”

“They think I’m a monster.” Beneath the smiling faces of the crowd, Larissa swore she could see the fear in their eyes.

“No they don’t. They haven’t seen anyone this powerful—”

“—since Shiko.”