by River Ramsey
“Not much help,” she muttered to herself, smoothing out the fitted bodice of her dress. It would have to do. She slipped on a pair of flats and headed downstairs just in time to realize the Watersons had arrived.
Of course they were early.
“Sweetheart, you look incredible,” Emily cooed in the tone she reserved for her closest frenemies, embracing the red-haired woman in front of her. Blake Waterson was not quite as tall and elegant as Emily, but she had regal features and a sort of timeless beauty that often caught the eye of toms young enough to be her son. Ella figured Marissa had to get it from somewhere.
Speak of the devil, she thought, tempted to run back upstairs before she was noticed as soon as she laid eyes on Marissa. She decided against it, choosing instead to linger behind Emily and near the wall separating the hallway from the dining room. There had to be some benefits to being invisible.
Marissa had her mother’s fiery locks, though she’d pressed the waves out with a combination of Brazilian blowouts and flat ironing. As her parents exchanged pleasantries by the door, the blue eyes she’d inherited from Mr. Waterson fixed on Ella and her cherry red lips turned downward.
No words had to pass between them for Ella to know exactly what she was thinking. Marissa had been a fixture in her life ever since she’d come into the Hill family, and the other girl had despised her just as long. Ella was no closer to understanding what she’d done to make Marissa hate her than she’d been back then, but the fire of enmity burned bright between them nonetheless. Over the years, it had become mutual.
Especially once Ella realized Marissa had already dug her claws into Axel. Not that he needed much convincing.
Ella was the first one to break eye contact. Each time, she told herself it would be different, but she always gave in. Some instinctive reaction she could neither understand nor help.
Maybe it was just how a lowly stray was supposed to react to a destined Empress. Everyone else seemed to think it was plain as day. The admiring whispers of the adults in the pride made it seem like she was some sort of celebrity, or a young royal.
In a way, she was. Maybe she wasn’t known as a leader among the humans, but among shifterkind, Marissa was nothing shy of a legend.
As far as Ella was concerned, there was no point in having the Unveiling ceremony at all when everyone from the priestesses of the Fellowship to the neighborhood gossip knew who she was and what she would become.
“This way, please,” Emily said warmly, leading her guests into the dining room. “The others shouldn’t be long.”
“I’m glad we arrived before Tessa,” Blake remarked, slipping out of her capelet. She casually handed it to Ella, who froze in uncertainty as to whether the other queen thought she was a maid, or had simply assumed she was a coat rack. Either way, she hung the capelet on a hook by the door and tried not to indulge the sneer she could feel coming from Marissa’s direction.
“Blake, Elijah, you remember our…” Emily trailed off and her expression went blank as she studied Ella, as if it was the first time she was having to choose a word for it.
“Daughter” certainly wasn’t it. There had never been any illusion that Emily saw her as one of her own, but while she often filled the role of one of the live-in servants, that wasn’t a socially acceptable descriptor, either.
“Ella,” she finally said, smoothing down the ruffle on the front of her blouse.
“Oh, yes,” Blake said, her eyes widening in recognition. “I didn’t recognize her. How old are you now, dear?”
“Eighteen,” Ella answered, glancing at Emily to make sure answering for herself wasn’t somehow speaking out of turn. It was an estimate more than a hard figure. She was at least eighteen, but the doctor said malnourishment had made it impossible to pinpoint it exactly. For all she knew, she was coming up on her twentieth birthday rather than the nineteenth. Not that it really mattered. Her life wouldn’t look any different after the Unveiling than it did now.
“Time flies, doesn’t it?” Blake asked with a wistful sigh, touching Marissa’s shoulder.
Marissa smiled, but rolled her eyes as soon as her mother glanced away. They were all seated at the table, and for a moment, Ella wasn’t sure where she belonged. There were a few seats left open, and while the head of the table was obviously out, she was tempted to take the seat nearest to the one Axel usually chose, even if it meant sitting closer to Marissa.
The younger queen shot Ella a death glare, as if the limited choice in seating was somehow her fault. Ella chose to ignore it and focus on surviving dinner without sticking her foot in her mouth.
When Axel walked in looking like a young god in an open blazer and a shirt the exact shade of gray in his cold, cold eyes, she decided it was enough to just focus on surviving the night.
He’d cut his hair. It wasn’t shaggy any longer, but the shorter cut made his jawline appear even sharper. He had grown into his father’s features, and while Ella had never quite grown accustomed to his beauty, months of not seeing him had certainly weakened her immunity to it.
Axel’s gaze swept over the room and lingered on Ella just long enough for her to notice his confusion.
Of course he wasn’t happy to see her, just surprised she was there at all.
She never expected anything more, and he never gave her reason to, but somehow, it never stopped stinging.
“Axel, welcome home, dear,” Emily said in a pleasant tone that faded when Tessa walked in behind him. “And your Grace.”
Emily stood and the others immediately followed suit. Ella bumped her water glass in her haste and held her breath until she was sure it wasn’t going to topple over.
“Please, there’s no need to be so formal,” Tessa said with a dry laugh that sounded as much like a cough.
Ella knew the priestess was close in age to Emily and Blake, but she seemed ageless. It was something in her eyes, dark and endless. As a young kit with no knowledge of shifter culture, Ella had assumed Tessa was the moon itself, personified. Even now that she’d traded her flowing robes for a simple gray cloak, she looked like a ghost passing through a hallowed space rather than a dinner guest.
“Emily, thank you for inviting me to your home. Everything is lovely, as always,” Tessa said, nodding toward the hostess. Unlike Emily’s syrupy compliments, there was no hint of sarcasm behind her words.
“It’s an honor to have you with us,” Emily said, taking a moment to reintroduce her to the Watersons. “And of course, you remember my son, Axel.”
“I’m familiar, yes. He’s made quite a name for himself at the Academy,” said Tessa. Something in the unblinking gaze with which she beheld the young tom seemed to ruffle nerves Ella had always thought unflappable.
“Of course,” Emily said, clearly taking it as a compliment. “He’s just like his father.”
“Indeed,” Tessa said, turning toward Ella. The stray froze, unable to fight the suspicion that the priestess was looking through her flesh and bone and into her very soul. As mesmerising as the few rituals Ella had attended were, they’d always left her chilled and a bit frightened. Like so many beautiful things, she thought it better--safer--to observe them from a distance.
“And this must be little Ella,” Tessa remarked, her expression softening as a few new lines appeared around her smile, proving she was human, after all. Sometimes Ella doubted it. “My, how you’ve grown. You were just a kit when I saw you last.”
For a few torturous seconds, the room went so silent Ella could hear her own breath like it was coming through a loudspeaker inside of her head. She was only rarely asked to accompany the family to colony events, and as far as she remembered, she had never interacted with the priestess one on one.
“You remember me?” Ella asked doubtfully, when she decided that continued silence posed a greater risk of offending their esteemed guest.
“Of course,” the priestess said with a chuckle, taking her seat. The others followed, but even though they were no longer standing, Ella fel
t just as tense with all eyes on her. Only Tessa’s were looking fondly. “Tell me, how are you liking the Academy?”
Ella froze once more, finally glancing Emily’s way for guidance. The Matriarch was just as much at a loss as she was, so she scrambled for the only diplomatic response she could think of. “I’m not attending the Academy right now.”
Tessa frowned. “Whyever not?” The question was clearly directed at Emily, and Ella didn’t dare to dig herself a deeper hole by answering it.
“She’s a stray,” Emily said with a nervous laugh, as if she was having to explain that the sky was blue or the grass was green. “And a common housecat at that.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” the priestess scoffed. “She’s still a young queen who’s recently come of age. She should be properly educated.”
Even though Emily was looking at Tessa, Ella could feel the Matriarch’s ire redirecting itself onto her. “You have a point,” she said, her voice so tense Ella wondered how she could even breathe. “Be that as it may, the Academy has certain requirements and I’m afraid Ella doesn’t meet them.”
Ella flinched, staring intently at her untouched food. The discomfort of the other guests at the table was palpable, and she didn’t dare look Axel’s way.
Why did the opinion of the person who held her in the lowest regard have to matter more than any other?
In truth, Emily was probably right. Her grades had been among the top in her class, and if it hadn’t been for her frequent absences related to her duties at home, she might easily have been valedictorian. The Academy’s standards, however, were far more rigorous in matters that had nothing to do with a grade point average.
No one got in without prestigious parentage unless their shifted form happened to be rare and impressive. It wasn’t unheard of for a leucistic lion or an Amur leopard to be born to a pair of cougars or other lesser species. In that case, exceptions were made, but an unremarkable little housecat with no pedigree to speak of certainly wasn’t going to make the cut.
“Be that as it may, there are other options,” Tessa pressed.
Ella wondered if she thought she was helping by advocating for the poor little stray. If so, she had no idea just how far off the mark she really was. Emily would smile and nod, but when the guests were gone, Ella would be left paying the price for the priestess’ censure.
It could have been worse. Emily had never beaten her, and she rarely even raised her voice. She found other ways of punishing those who disappointed her. Ways far more civilized yet infinitely more cutting.
“Yes, you’re right,” Emily said, clearly willing to say anything to appease her. “We’ll discuss her attending the local university in the spring.”
Ella knew it was an empty promise, but hopefully that would be the end of it. When she finally ventured a glance to her right under the guise of taking a sip of water, she nearly choked to find Axel staring straight at her, his lower face obscured by his folded hands. It was a gesture he’d picked up from his father, but the anger burning in his frigid eyes left no room to doubt what he was feeling.
And here Ella had expected Marissa’s underhanded remarks to be the most unpleasant obstacle of the evening.
“I should hope so,” Tessa said, taking a long sip of her wine. To Ella’s relief, the conversation soon drifted to safer topics, like the upcoming Unveiling ceremony and the impending arrival of the King and Empress.
The last Unveiling had been held within the Meyer pride’s territory, but it was the Hills’ turn once more, and there was no hospitable duty held more sacred among their kind. Emily had been preparing for the event for the better part of the last year, and Ella already knew the arranged place settings by heart. She still wasn’t sure if she would be in attendance, and at the rate the evening was going, she would consider herself lucky if she didn’t end up sleeping in the broom closet.
As dinner finally drew to a close, Ella found herself dreaming of the moment she would finally be able to return to her room and lock herself away for seven or eight hours at least. Beatrice would want to know all the details, despite the fact that she was listening in at that very moment, but all Ella wanted to do was curl up in a ball and go to sleep.
It was hard to resist the temptation to shift at times like these. No matter how long she’d been among civilized shifters, her early life as a stray had cemented her feline form as the one in which she was most comfortable. Even now, it was hard to resist the call of the moonlight shining through the window and the hunger for cool pavement and soft grass beneath her paws.
“That was a wonderful dinner,” said Tessa. “My compliments to your chef.”
“She’s surprisingly talented for a human,” Blake agreed. “Where did you get her, again?”
Ella bristled at the way the woman spoke of her friend, as if Beatrice was some novelty to be procured from a shelf or ordered online. It was a rare human who knew about their world, and rarer still one who could tolerate living among shifters.
“Her mother worked for us, around the time we found Ella,” Emily answered, sipping her wine. To Ella’s relief, she’d had a few glasses and seemed considerably more relaxed. She was sure that would change come morning, but for now, all she had to do was hope Tessa and the others left soon.
“She’s decent enough,” Axel muttered. He had been brooding all night, and Ella was beginning to suspect it had to do with more than just her unwelcome presence. He hadn’t spoken more than a word to Marissa all night, despite her increasingly desperate attempts. If she wasn’t so awful, Ella might have felt sorry for her. After all, she knew firsthand what it was like to pine for the frigid tom’s attention.
“Well, when you’re a Sire, you can make any changes to the staff as you see fit,” said Emily.
Ella looked to Axel, searching for a sign that he was joking. When she found none, her heart sank. He had been different ever since his father’s death, but it seemed that each time he came home from the Academy, another layer of his soul was stripped away.
“And the colony, for that matter,” Daniel added, raising his half-empty glass. “To our future King and Empress.”
Marissa gave a tight-lipped smile and pretended to be embarrassed by her father’s words, but there wasn’t a hint of blush on her cheeks that she hadn’t applied diligently herself.
“I’ll drink to that,” Emily said proudly, raising her own glass.”
Ella was debating whether or not she could get away with bowing out of the toast altogether when she realized Tessa was staring at them all with barely veiled disgust.
“My, how presumptuous we are,” the priestess said in a curt tone. “Should I be concerned about my position as well?”
“Don’t be silly,” Blake said with a nervous laugh. She seemed to be the only one who didn’t understand the priestess’ sarcasm.
Ella knew as well as anyone that even the Empress and King didn’t have the power to choose the priesthood. That was reserved for the moon herself.
“Call me a traditionalist, but I would wait until the Unveiling before you go picking out new drapes,” Tessa quipped.
“We don’t mean to be flippant,” Emily said with a smile that was growing thinner by the moment. “But I’m certain you would agree there is an obvious element to these things.”
“That’s right,” said Daniel. “Everyone knew Natalia would become Empress, from the time she was young.”
The mention of their Empress was still capable of ruffling feathers and old jealousies, if the look on Emily’s face was any indication.
“That’s true enough,” said Tessa. “But Natalia was an extraordinary case. She was always unrivaled among her generation in wisdom and kindness, the qualities that make a true Empress great.”
The table fell silent once more. There was no amount of pleasantry that could disguise the insult for what it was.
“Are you saying I’m not those things?” Marissa asked, her voice breaking with agitation.
“
I’m saying that is for the moon to decide and for you to prove, my child,” Tessa answered.
Marissa didn’t seem to know what to make of her remark, but Tessa rose before she had the chance. “Thank you for a lovely dinner. I’m afraid I must retire. There’s much to be done before the Unveiling, and I wouldn’t want to keep these promising young candidates from their studies.”
Ella pursed her lips so she wouldn’t be tempted to laugh. She’d never heard anyone stand up to Marissa. Not even the pride elders. It was as plain as day on the young queen’s face that no one ever had.
“I’ll show you out,” Emily said, making no attempt to hide her relief. She and the Watersons followed the priestess out of the dining room and Ella found herself stranded with Marissa and Axel.
At least she didn’t have to worry about any extended awkward silence. Marissa was quick to fill it.
“I can’t believe that bitter old hag,” she seethed, throwing back what was left in her father’s wine glass.
“Ignore her,” Axel muttered. “Her opinion means nothing. She’s not the one who decides anything.”
Ella stood, hoping she could just slip out without either of them noticing.
“You must be enjoying yourself,” Marissa sneered. Her spiteful tone left no room to doubt who she was talking to. It seemed Ella’s powers of invisibility only ever worked against her, never in her favor. “I bet you loved getting fawned over by that weirdo.”
Ella swallowed the words on the tip of her tongue. Marissa’s insolence knew no bounds, it seemed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Please,” Marissa scoffed, folding her arms. “Jealous little wallflowers have to stick together, I guess.”
Ella frowned. She was jealous, but not for the reasons Marissa seemed to think. She didn’t care about the other girl’s trust fund or the implants she’d cashed a portion of it in for. Axel, on the other hand… No matter how much reason he gave her to despise him, her heart refused to be reasoned with.