Page 44 of Tree of Ash (The Runic Saga #2)

Uninvited Guests

Anara

Anara’s line of guests had been much shorter than Larissa’s.

Shorter than any of the other monarchs’ lines, in fact.

Few dared to speak one-on-one with the Crown Princess of all shifters.

Sitting in the banquet hall only reminded Anara of why she preferred her years of solitude to the regality of royal life.

There were advantages, however, to being least liked.

With all eyes on Darien and Larissa dancing, Anara escaped onto one of the various outside balconies.

She breathed in the night air, resisting the urge to shift into a raven and feel the freedom rustle through her silky feathers.

Inevitably, her peace did not last long.

“They’ll never accept us.” General Ishaan stood at the door, half-concealed by shadow. The ruby on his thumb shimmered as it caught the light from inside. “No matter what we do for them, we’ll always be shifters.”

“People fear what they don’t understand,” she responded with more confidence than she felt. “Eventually, they’ll understand; then, they won’t fear.”

He scoffed. “Do you really believe that, or is that just what you tell yourself as you risk your life for every ungrateful person in that room?”

Anara ignored him.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” he hissed. “You’ve given everything for them to have their kingdom back, and they hate you for who you are.”

“Not all of them,” Anara said.

“You’re the Crown Princess of the Rubinians. Why do you spend all of your time serving Lovisa? Why won’t you fight for our kingdom? Our people?”

“You’re right; I am the Crown Princess. What makes you think you have any right to speak to me this way, General ?”

He bowed stiffly. “I was trained to serve under your father, to advise him and then you when your time came.”

But Anara didn’t want to talk about her father. “What about you, Ishaan? Why do you serve King Torsten?”

Ishaan shrugged. “Power. Status. Revenge against Shiko. Same as you.”

“Not the same as me,” Anara snapped. “I don’t serve anyone; Lovisa is my friend. One day, I will fight for my kingdom.”

“When?”

“When our debts are paid.”

He bared his teeth. “Rubin wasn’t the only kingdom to willingly serve Shiko. Smaragd—”

“Smaragd surrendered and lay down for Shiko to trample over like we all knew they would, but Rubin?” Anara scoffed.

“We were the strongest. We were the most courageous, and apparently, we were also the most prideful. If any kingdom stood a chance against Shiko, it was Rubin, but our people gave that up and leapt at a chance for more power, and look what it did to them!”

Ishaan’s lined face was stone cold. “Would you have your people pay for that mistake forever?

“My people,” Anara spat, “twisted their bodies—their souls—to serve the Empress. Rubin will be the last commonwealth to be reclaimed after we pay for the consequences of their sins.”

“And of those innocent within the city?”

Anara gritted her teeth. This was always Ishaan’s final barb. “What would you have me do? I can’t reclaim Rubin on my own; we need allies—”

Anara’s head snapped toward the balcony door at the faint scent of rotting flesh. She growled deep in her chest.

Ishaan stood alert. “What is it?”

Anara pushed through the double glass doors.

Inside the banquet hall, the crowds were emptying into the corridor that would lead them to the Hall of Konungr for Larissa’s coronation ceremony.

A familiar tickle ran across Anara’s skin as the transformation morphed her nose into a snout.

She sniffed the air, but the smell was gone, as if it had never existed in the first place.

Only the strong scent of burning incense remained.

Ishaan stood next to her, a similar look of frustration on his face. “Did you smell something?”

“Anara! There you are; we’re about to start!” Darien waved her down as he approached, but his hand froze in the air. “What’s wrong?”

“I smelled a draugr outside, but the scent is gone,” Anara answered, cutting off Ishaan’s exclamation. “We should join the others in the Hall.”

Darien’s hand wrapped around the hilt of his sword. “We need to tell Larissa and my father.”

“And stop the coronation?” she asked as trumpets sounded from the other room. “What would that accomplish? It’s better if we continue as planned and watch for the draugr , if it’s still here at all. It might already have left to report to Shiko.”

Anara walked briskly across the ballroom floor and down the halls, wishing she had worn something with more traction than satin slippers.

No matter. If it came down to a fight, she wouldn’t remain in those slippers for long.

Larissa waited for them in a back room nestled behind the Hall of Konungr , looking up in relief while Torsten scowled at their disheveled appearance.

“Where have you been?” Torsten waved his hand. “Never mind. The two of you, get into your places. General Ishaan, please take your place.”

Ishaan nodded, but as he passed, he whispered low enough that only Anara would hear. “I’ll see what I can smell.”

Darien stared hard at Anara, his insistent look prompting her to explain to the others.

“Is everything alright?” Larissa asked.

“Anara smelled a draugr in the ballroom,” Darien answered, his arms crossed.

“Subtle, Darien,” Anara muttered, then, in a louder voice, “It was gone before I could investigate further.”

“You think you smelled a draugr ?” King Torsten demanded. “Here?”

Larissa’s eyes widened; her fists clenched the golden fabric at her thighs. “Halla. She’s in the crowd. I have to go to her.”

“No,” Torsten argued, his hand grabbing her arm. “We are about to begin the coronation. There may not be a draugr here at all.”

“And if there is?” Larissa shot back, yanking her arm from his grasp. “That’s my sister out there!”

“And this is your kingdom, your people,” Torsten hissed. “ If there is a draugr , then its main purpose is surely to spy and report back to Shiko, making it even more important that we solidify your claim to the throne as soon as possible.”

“He’s right,” Anara cut in. “Ishaan is already in the crowd hunting. Darien and I will watch the crowd from the stage. We’ll keep Halla close, Larissa.”

Though she still looked poised to run, Larissa asked, “You’ll protect her?”

“With our lives,” Darien promised, ignoring the look his father sent him.

Larissa lifted her skirts in her hands. “Then let’s get out there.”

Inhaling deeply, Anara led the way out of the back room and onto the stage that had been prepared.

The long hall was overflowing with an audience.

Though the pews were packed, even more people crowded the side aisles and stood in the back of the room.

They spoke in loud whispers that only grew in excitement at the sight of Anara and Darien.

Their voices echoed off the high stone ceilings and marbled floors.

Anara took her place on the left of the throne, her eyes scanning the crowd.

Ishaan prowled along the perimeter of the population, but he shook his head when he spotted Anara’s questioning glance.

Darien took his spot on the right side of the stage, merely a foot away from where Halla and Kai sat in the front row of the Hall.

He leaned down and motioned to Halla to whisper in her ears.

Though Anara couldn’t hear his words over the crowd, she watched the color drain from Halla’s face, causing the girl’s freckles to stand out in sharp relief.

Kai’s frown deepened as he looked around the room, yet there was no fear in his face, only apprehension.

Anara had sympathized with him from the start, recognizing the way people looked at him in distaste, but his bravery made her like him even more.

Already waiting center stage was Halvor, who held the crown of Perle in his hands, having found it in one of Hammon’s vast treasuries.

The delicate gold band was interwoven in braids and accentuated with pearls that glistened like raindrops.

Behind Halvor, General Soren stood, proudly carrying a bowl of liquid kohl in a ceramic bowl.

As the door to the back room opened again, the entirety of the crowd silenced. King Torsten entered first, a gold crown embedded with sapphire stones resting on his head. At the sight of the King, the crowd rose to their feet. Then came Larissa.

Her eyes darted around the room, resting on Halla, who beamed at the sight of her sister.

Larissa looked to Anara, but Anara only shook her head in response to Larissa’s raised brows.

There was no trace of the scent in the room.

Reassured, Larissa strode toward the center stage.

Larissa’s golden dress swirled around her legs as she knelt before General Soren.

The old Perlian dipped two fingers into the kohl before dragging a finger down the center of Larissa’s face, starting at her forehead and ending just at the brow.

Then came another line of paint from her lower lip to her chin.

A horizontal bar across the bridge of her nose and cheeks joined the rest. As Soren continued his design, he spoke in the ancient language of a people long dead.

Few beyond the royalty knew of the language, fewer understood it, but Anara remembered her lessons well.

As General Soren listed the duties of the Crown, he wound oaths that would bound Larissa to her people. It was a contract between the Queen and her citizens, as binding as any marriage, a covenant of servitude and protection.