by Ella Fields
I watched in the mirror as she carefully situated the crown around my braided one, and then reached for the mask. It slid into place with pins that caught my hair behind my ears, shielding everything but the tip of my nose, my lower cheeks and chin, the blood red of my lips, and my eyes. They appeared brighter, a sky blue, my dark lashes cresting the confines of the mask to curl against it.
“There,” Truin said, barely a whisper.
When I stood, my gown fell to the floor in a waterfall of black feathers, the tight bodice inlaid with silver beads catching the light and spraying it outward.
I offered my arm, and Truin’s pale pink lips parted, her eyes bouncing to mine.
Then she looped hers through it and slid her own mask, blue with butterfly wings sprouting from either side, into place.
Together, we left my rooms, the doors closing and locking with an echoing thud and clang as we slowly walked downstairs.
The halls were already shaking with noise—laughter, chatter, and singing—causing my heart to pound. We meandered through them, and a few cooks, maids, and servers stopped to bow and gape as we strode past.
Raiden was waiting at the top of the stairs leading to the ballroom in a gold jacket and gray pants that shimmered when the light caught them.
I snorted when I saw his mask. A fox.
He held out his hand, and a flame danced before our eyes, igniting his alluring smile and causing a few onlookers below to gasp.
Before my hand touched his, the flame disappeared, though its stifling heat could still be felt on his skin.
Truin curtsied, and then waded down the steps into the rapidly swelling crowd below.
A part of me wanted to call for her to come back. When I finally gave my attention to Raiden, I found his own crown of curling gold snakes and branches, ruby leaves glinting atop his head.
“I’ve yet to see you wear it before now,” he said, his voice soft, but his eyes hard on the silver crowning my head.
“I’m not fond of it,” I admitted, then gestured with my eyes to the crowd.
“A crow?” he asked, studying my dress and mask.
My smile bit into my cheeks. “A midnight eagle.”
Our guards moved closer, flanking us on all sides.
“Ah, but of course,” he said. “Dark and deadly.”
In answer, my chin tipped up.
Raiden’s eyes danced, and then he nodded, tucking my arm within his as we began to descend the stairs.
The guests, most of them wearing masks, fell silent. The entire room, large enough to fit a small army, filled with nothing but the roaring of my heart in my ears.
They parted, though it was no easy thing with so many people, and we crossed the room to the two thrones upon the dais on the other side.
Caterpillars, moths, another butterfly, and even a jester caught my eye, but it wasn’t until we’d reached the dais, our guards settling below and behind it, and stood before our thrones, that I finally saw him.
Dripping from head to toe in black was a wolf.
His mask was fur, whiskers sprouting in silver lines either side of his crooked nose, the soft black crawling into shape around his golden eyes.
My chest deflated, my steel-infused shoulders drooping, but those eyes, glow as they might, were not shining in the way I’d thought they would.
His lips thin, and his jaw flexed into an immovable square, he stared, and I stared back, fearing the kaleidoscope of feelings inside me was on display for all to see.
Raiden’s arm squeezed mine as he began to talk, and I gave my attention to the sea of faces below us, my shoulders and chin rising.
“Welcome,” Raiden said, his deep voice carrying over the room built for such things. “We are thrilled to have you all here to help celebrate such an important time for us all.” He paused, on purpose, and finished, “To celebrate peace. A unity that will lead to a prosperous, magical future for everyone.”
I smiled, hoping it appeared warmer than it felt, as clapping ensued and even some whistling.
A tankard was handed to Raiden, likely planned, and he held the ale in the air. “Drink, eat, dance. Get to know your neighbors, and enjoy one another.” Then, he tipped it back to more shouting and clapping and whistling before we took our waiting seats.
One by one, each guest was allowed to come before the dais and wish us well, but when the merriment grew too loud, the room reaching capacity within the hour, we were forced to put an end to that and left the dais to do the rounds instead.
To his credit, Raiden could charm even the surliest of storeowners and nobility alike, leaving them all in better spirits than what they’d been when we’d approached them.
“You are an expert,” I said through my teeth, smiling at a group of young girls in homespun dresses with strips of satin tied around their foreheads. It was all they could afford, I knew, and they were quick to turn beet red upon meeting my eyes, before turning to one another to gasp and gossip.
“You’re doing well,” Raiden said in return.
I scoffed. “A few smiles and waves here and there. Why, I’m practically your show pony.”
“I doubt there’s a soul in this room who doesn’t quake to their core should your eyes befall them.” He’d said it in jest, but I still took it for the compliment I wanted it to be.
A peacock curtsied as we passed, draped head to toe in greens and blues, her blond hair falling over her half displayed chest. “My lieges.”
Raiden froze on the spot. His arm tensing around mine, he gritted, “Eline.”
Straightening, she displayed her teeth in a smile that could only be described as threatening, though not to me. “I do hope your stay has served you well, my king.”
“Indeed,” Raiden said, “it has.”
Her eyes darted to me, her nose tilting up.
I only smiled and found doing so easier than the last time I’d laid eyes on Raiden’s preferred lover. “We are taking excellent care of him, Little Lion,” I told Eline. “I can assure you.”
Raiden stilled, then coughed.
Eline’s eyes narrowed on him. “Oh, I’m sure you are.”
We walked on, and I couldn’t help but notice how long it took the king beside me to unclench his muscles and offer a genuine smile.
“Does her presence bother you?” I asked, all innocence.
“Let me guess,” he said. “You invited her?”
I tutted. “It was an open event, my dear.”
Raiden sighed. “You torment me to no end.”
“I do nothing of the sort.”
“Your mere existence is enough,” he whispered, bending to drag the words over my cheek.
My eyes flicked to the shadows beneath the stairs where the lord was standing, sipping champagne, his wife nowhere to be seen. “I need a drink.”
Raiden clicked his fingers as we neared the stairs, but the server was headed in the other direction, and he grumbled before following him.
I bit my smile, and knowing Azela was trailing, as were the eyes of all our guards, but not caring, I slipped into the shadows and felt my breath plume out of me in a frost-bitten exhale.
Zad bowed, those sharp eyes on mine as he straightened. “Resplendent, even dressed dark as night.”
His words, though they were crisp and short, evoked a pattering within me, light and restless. Needing to, I stepped closer.
To my confusion and dismay, he retreated.
I nodded, understanding. “Not here.”
His response was a blunt knife. “Or anywhere.”
Before I could voice my confusion, Nova appeared at his side, her arm slinging behind his back as her knees bent. “Majesty.” She gazed around the room. “Quite a party.”
I could feel my upper lip curl but set them both into a flat line as her eyes smiled knowingly at me.
Raiden returned, his mouth lowering to my ear. “Let us take a walk. Get some fresh air.”
I didn’t want fresh air.
I wanted my lord awa
y from his wife.
I wanted him to look at me the way he usually did, to rid that cold detachment from his crystalline features.
My stomach swirled, my mind searching, but it found nothing.
I could feel nothing from him, save for the bitter trace of ire.
Shocked, I was easily led away from the pair and delivered outside into a hall filled with masked guests and servers carrying steaming trays of food to and from the ballroom.
Raiden kept walking until we’d reached a verandah, but I didn’t stop.
I continued until the noise was swallowed by the silence found closer to the stairs leading to my rooms. Guards stood at the bottom to keep guests from finding their way to the higher levels, but they stepped aside when they saw me heading for them.
“Audra,” Raiden said. “You cannot mean to sulk in your rooms when our enjoyment, our presence, on this night means so much.”
“I need a moment,” I said, opening the doors to my rooms.
Before I could enter, my wrist was grabbed, and I was spun into a hard chest. “Why?”
He tried to search my eyes, my expression, but the mask and the dipping of my head didn’t allow for it. “Silk,” he said, grasping my chin. “I’ve been patient. I’ve been here, waiting for this grudge of yours to pass, but even if you do not wish to share what upsets you, you must. You must share it with me, not only because I care, but because for better or worse, we are now a team.”
My eyes lifted, stinging pools of water, and his grip loosened at the sight. “I might share this continent with you, but I do not need to share anything else.”
“There was a time I’d have you spilling the inner workings of that beautiful brain,” he murmured. “I miss it. I want it back.”
With nothing to say to that, I just stood there.
And then the air turned malevolent, as if it’d grown a heartbeat born from fury, and Zad appeared behind Raiden.
Sensing it too, Raiden slowly stepped back, his gaze bouncing between us for a stalling exhale. “You’re lost, Lord.” He grinned, menace rolling from the hardness of it. “Turn back.”
Zad grinned in kind. “I’ve spent far too much time in these halls to ever find myself lost, King.”
Raiden’s hands curled, his entire frame swelling.
“Give us a minute,” I said, and when Raiden threw incredulous eyes at me, I added, “Please.”
He stared for a long moment, and then sighed, his shoulder smacking Zad’s on his way past.
Zadicus didn’t move, not from the intended jostling and not after Raiden’s footsteps faded at the bottom of the stairs.
“Well,” I said, my hands spreading. “You corner me and then you fail to talk?”
“You were with him. Again.” Such quick, heart-stopping words wrapped thick in disgust.
There was little point in denying it. He knew, as I’d guessed and feared he might. “I was.”
Dragging a hand over his mouth, he shook his head at the ground, a low laugh preceding his next words. “I knew,” he said. “I knew I was doomed the moment I linked to you.”
“Well, we tried, but it didn’t…” My teeth grazed my lip as I struggled to conjure the best words to use. “It didn’t work.”
At that, his head tilted, and he prowled closer. “It didn’t work?” His tone was accusing, filled with disbelief. “You let a male inside your body, and it didn’t fucking work?” He cut me wide open with his wrathful gaze. “You cannot lie to me, Audra.”
“I am not lying. I found it too…” I paused, releasing words with a rough exhale. “I kicked him out. Not long after we started, I stopped it,” I said, tonelessly. I wouldn’t allow him to make me feel less than. “You knew, you know very well,” I went on. “What I’ll have to do.”
Raiden was my husband. He was the future I was saddled with. It was pointless to plead forgiveness for something I had to, and would likely have to, do again.
“There are many things you have to do, but I fail to see why that is one of them.” After staring at me for breath-faltering moments, Zad cursed, auburn hair falling to curtain his sharp cheek as he turned to the window. “This is a fucking nightmare.”
I wanted to say so many things.
I wanted to ask him to stay. To make sure the king only entered my rooms, my body, when the time came to produce an heir.
But most of all, I just wanted him—his arms around me, his scent smothering me, and his obnoxious heartbeat dancing with mine.
“Zadicus,” I said when he began to walk away. “Zad,” I said again when he took to the stairs.
I followed, but still, he didn’t stop.
In the hall below, Raiden stepped out from the shadows, his teeth bared as he launched himself at Zad, and they toppled to the ground.
A scream stretched my throat, trapped there, as Raiden’s fist smacked into Zad’s cheek, and then Zad flipped him, elbowing him across the nose.
Blood sprayed, and guards rushed into the hallway, but I halted everyone with the rising of my hands. “Stop.”
With a wind that rattled the sconces on the walls, leaving us in near darkness, I forced Zad off Raiden, knowing what would happen if we didn’t settle this.
One of them would die, and the result of that would be catastrophic, no matter who it was.
To me, and to Allureldin.
“I said stop,” I ground out, looking at Ainx to seize the lord, who shoved him off. “Again?” Zad spat at the ground by Raiden’s head. “You have me here again, only to have me dragged out like unwanted cattle?”
I nodded at Ainx, and he released the lord.
Adjusting his blood-splattered mask, Raiden rose from the ground, the rage in his eyes biting into my skin.
Looking at the guards, I said, “Leave us.”
They did, but only far enough to give the illusion of privacy.
“You link to my queen?” The words rolled out of Raiden’s mouth like hot flames escaping a fire. Moving closer to Zad, he sneered. “My wife? I will have your head—”
“You will not,” I said. “For I have linked with him too.”
As though he’d turned to stone, Raiden stood deathly still, his gaze on Zad, who just stood there with hard, expressionless eyes. Finally, he turned, and I wished he hadn’t.
I’d never feared the male, nor had I feared any male except my father, until that moment. With his eyes burning, his gait slow and focused, Raiden stopped before me and spat, “You hid it from me? You link with a male other than myself, and you think to hide it from me?”
“It was only recent,” I said, simply, struggling to keep my words steady, my very breath, under a gaze harsher than that of his desert sun. “On my part.”
“On your part,” he repeated, bland and unblinking.
I swallowed, choosing silence. I was not prone to driveling apologies, and I wasn’t about to start with him. I owed him nothing, especially after all he’d done.
He had only himself to blame for any upset he felt. He’d changed the trajectory of all our lives with his lies and cunning nature.
I’d half expected the lord to walk away, but I should’ve known better. He wasn’t going anywhere with the rage unfurling from Raiden, especially when he was looming over me like a curling tree about to snap during a storm.
Looking back at Zad, he asked, “When?”
“It matters not,” Zad said, words cutting like sharp shards of ice. “Now, back up.”
“Oh, but I think it does matter a great deal.” Raiden turned to him. “Considering you linked with someone who wasn’t yours. She is mine.” He jabbed a finger at his chest. “My wife. My queen. My future. Mine.”
As though he thought he’d glean some satisfaction from admitting it, Zad shrugged. “She was only fourteen, so it happened long before your painful existence was to become even a thought in her head. A stain thrust upon any of our lives.”
That gave Raiden pause.
You couldn’t trial someone for linking. It was about as natura
l as the sun and moon changing shifts in the sky. But when you were a royal, a high royal who sat on a throne no less, you could very well get away with doing whatever you pleased—within reason.
And it was within reason to have your wife or husband’s linked one suddenly vanish, fall irreversibly ill, or be struck in the chest with a weapon of someone who’d been hired.
The mere thought of Raiden trying to break something that could not be severed ignited a black hole of wariness inside me, the likes of which had me saying, “You needn’t worry yourself on the matter. He is but a lover. One I have chosen not to bed or entertain anymore.”
Raiden continued to stare at Zad, and then, with a glance at me, he murmured, “We’ll see.” Then he was stalking down the hall, startling a server so much so that when he grabbed two ales from her tray, the rest toppled to the floor.
A few passersby stopped to help her clean up the broken glass and beverages.
Dragging my stinging eyes off them, I gave them to Zad.
“Just a lover?” he purred, though there was no softness behind the question.
“I will say and do whatever is necessary,” I said. “You know that, and you know better.”
“Do I?” he said, drawing closer, so close, I stepped back into the wall, its dusty tapestry trapped behind me. “You lay with him, you allow him free rein of your home, and for him, you ignore what it is you truly want.”
“It is not for him, and it is only for the time being. I promise.”
His brows lowered, his jostled mask shifting over his marble encased cheeks. “You promise?”
I nodded. I would make it work. I had to, for my own survival as well as his.
His hands trembled as he cupped my jaw, and I felt my eyes flutter closed at the touch. A caress and a burn, his smooth mouth whispered over mine. “You accept me only to turn me away. You care for me only to do so when you see fit. And you wound me at every turn.”
My own hands reached up, gripping his. I opened my eyes, a plea within them. “You cannot think I meant for all this to happen. You know it’s not what I want.”
“You do nothing to stop it. To make it right. You’re not even trying. You are not Audra; you are a puppet of your own making.”
“I am no one’s puppet,” I seethed. “I am yours. My heart is yours. My soul is yours.”