Black Crown

by Kelly St Clare

  I dropped my gaze to the floor. I was just going to look at the floor for a while.

  Just look at the back of Dyter’s head, Tyrrik said, his voice still strangled. You can’t be staring at the ground, Ryn; you need to keep the veil up. They’ve taken us through here to purposely unsettle us.

  I wasn’t so sure. No one seemed to be trying anything; most Azulis weren’t even paying any attention to us. These people were . . . different. Utterly different. They had different worries, different priorities. I couldn’t relate to them on any level. I didn’t understand how they could be like this with what was happening outside their kingdom.

  Were they aware of the troubles? If they were, this party was completely depraved. Yet, though I was baffled and disturbed by the goings on around me, I couldn’t detect true malice.

  We followed in the wake of Dyter, Dilowa, Gairome, and Zarad. I glanced away to search for the assassins and immediately averted my gaze back to the front.

  There was something really wrong with these people.

  Dyter approached the dais, his bald head glowing with embarrassment. He’d caught me and Tyrrik kissing and been mortified. I was surprised the old coot wasn’t yelling about his eyes right now.

  A stunning redheaded young woman sat upon a gem-encrusted throne, her face alight with excitement. She wore a shimmery green dress with emeralds circling her breasts and dipping in a V toward her lady bits like an arrow showing everyone the way. She clapped her hands and squealed, and the jiggle was real. “I am Queen Mily. Have you come for a visit? All the way from Berald?”

  No. Way. Was she serious?

  “Verald,” Dyter corrected her, raising his voice to be heard over the din.

  She bounced in her seat, her breasts springing in and out of view. I leaned forward, squinting at the emeralds. How had she stuck those on?

  “Berald sounds so romantic,” the woman said. “The story about that girl in the dungeon who is really a princess?” She sighed and clasped her hands to her chest. “I hope she gets her prince.”

  This lady had to be kidding? She clearly knew something of the outside world if she’d heard about my stint in the dungeons. The queen was either stupid or a very good actor, and I really didn’t trust either option.

  “We’ve come to see if we could use your boats, Your Majesty,” Dyter continued, not wasting any time, perhaps flustered by her gem-encrusted chest.

  “Of course you can,” the young woman said. “I would do anything for Berald and that sweet girl.”

  Sweet girl? Tyrrik’s sardonic implication was clear.

  Whatever. I’m totally sweet.

  “How soon would you be willing to let us—”

  The stunning redhead straightened in the throne and wiggled her shoulders, adjusting her legs.

  My gaze lowered, and my brows rose. I’ve never seen nudity flaunted so much before.

  Tyrrik snorted quietly. There’s a bead of sweat running down the back of Dyter’s neck.

  Sounds interesting.

  It’s the most interesting thing I’m willing to look at right now. Unless it’s you.

  “Sir Lamar!” The queen grimaced as a man crossed in front of her. When he stopped and her eyes lit with recognition, her frown flipped into a smile. “Ah, Sir Lamar. Will you please let the boat-master know that . . . Dretems here”—she pointed at Dyter—“is going to use some of the boats tomorrow?”

  Seriously? Just like that? That seemed . . . too easy. If she was genuine, then I had to believe this kingdom really was as frivolous and out of touch with reality as they appeared. Yet that was hard to swallow too. I wasn’t even sure I could forgive that level of stupidity. But she’d also called Dyter Dretems, which I planned to make the most of later.

  “Of course, Queen Mily,” the dark-haired man said with a nod. “Did you want me to find him now or in the morning?”

  The queen leaned over and asked, “What do you think? Is he at the party?”

  Sir Lamar nodded. “Yes, but I could find him if you’d like.”

  An icy chill brushed over my skin, and I glanced away from the queen to see a tall dark-haired man with vibrant-green eyes staring at her.

  She must’ve felt his gaze on her too, for she looked away from the man she was giving orders to, and when she saw the green-eyed man, she waved away Sir Lamar saying, “Today, tomorrow. Whichever is fine.” She glanced at Dyter and said, “Enjoy the party. Tomorrow morning you can do whatever you need with the boats.” She stood and, as she descended the steps, said, “Please excuse me.”

  Uh-uh, what had just happened? She sidled up to the green-eyed man and wrapped around him like a vine—whoa, yeah. I did not want to see any more of Queen Mily’s body. Ever.

  Dyter turned to Sir Lamar, but the man’s gaze had gone steely, and he said, “You’ll want to be at the docks in the morning. Feel free to enjoy Queen Mily’s birthday party in the meantime.”

  He turned and strode through the crowd.

  “What do we do?” Dilowa asked as her attention darted left.

  I looked and saw a young man, easily half Dilowa’s age, beckoning her suggestively.

  “We should leave,” Dyter said, looking first at Zarad and then at the rest of our limited group. “There are a lot of distractions here—”

  Zarad and Gairome nodded, although both were eyeing different women. A few minutes later, a gong sounded, and the chandeliers began to lower.

  “Did you want a turn in there?” a guard asked Dyter. “There are plenty of slaves to go around.”

  A growl slipped between my teeth. As soon as we won this war, that would be the first thing to go.

  Dyter shook his head. “No. Will you show us to our rooms, please?”

  The guard burst into laughter. “The party lasts all night; everyone will be staying here now. The doors are closed.”

  Was that a command? I glanced back at the archway we’d entered and noticed the doors were, in fact, closed.

  “Now what?” I asked, frowning.

  “Keep the veil up on you and Tiago, but let me out. I can still see and hear you, regardless,” Tyrrik said. “Let me talk with Dyter.”

  I slipped Tyrrik out from under the veil, my attention rooted to my mate.

  “What’s the plan?” Tyrrik asked, yanking back Gairome as he stepped toward a beckoning beauty.

  Another servant passed by with fingerfood on her tray, and Zared stopped her. She held the tray out with a pancake stuffed with cabbage and diced tomatoes.

  “What is it?” Zared asked.

  “Fish packets. It has a cilantro crema. They’re my favorite,” she said, her gaze raking over our group, and then she shook her head, expression full of pity. “Here. Try one.”

  Zared reached for one, and Dyter grabbed the prince’s wrist. “What if they’re poisoned?”

  The woman replied, “It’s the queen’s birthday party. She’s all about good things. There’s no way she’s poisoning anyone.” She grabbed a folded pancake and bit into it. “See?”

  Holding Zared back, Dyter studied the woman, his scar blanching the longer he stared at her. “How long have you been here in Azule?”

  Why was he so fixated by her? I shifted my attention from him to her, examining her features beyond the black tattoos. I recoiled, filled with disapprobation as awareness settled in my mind.

  She dropped her chin toward her chest and said, “Five years.” Her lower lip trembled. “I heard Cal was Irdelron’s son. And the crops are growing again.”

  Dyter nodded. “Which Zone?”

  “Eight. House of Dar.” Her eyes filled with tears as she spoke.

  She was from Verald? Had she chosen to leave, or did someone take her? Both options were equally awful.

  She held the tray out toward Dyter, her hands shaking enough that the silver platter trembled. “Here, take them all. You’ll feel better if you eat.”

  Dyter glanced at the food. He had to be starving—we all were—but he pushed the tray away. “We can’t tak
e any chances—”

  “I promise,” she said, pushing the tray closer. “I swear on the house of Dar that the food and drink aren’t poisoned. I’ve been to four of Mily’s parties this year. She doesn’t poison anyone.”

  “I’m not eating that,” I said to Tyrrik, shaking my head.

  “No thank you,” he said to Dyter.

  I could see the condemnation in the firm set of Dyter’s mouth. He was practically screaming she’s from Verald; have a heart.

  I had a heart, but her tray could remain full, in my humble opinion.

  The Azule kingdom was creepy, too creepy to eat their fish-pancake thingies. Nothing about this place made any sense.

  Queen-Bouncy had agreed to send ships to collect the men at war, and I felt suspicious and oddly deflated. Did that seem too easy for your liking?

  Dyter accepted one of the packets, smiling at the Veraldian woman with the sad eyes before taking a bite. I watched him closely, but he swallowed and remained unchanged as he continued to talk with the servant.

  Maybe, Tyrrik answered. I’m trying to decide. Maybe it’s a reflection of their general ignorance to hardship. The queen didn’t give any of the tells I’ve seen in liars, and she doesn’t seem old, or wise enough to fake sincerity.

  I hummed and nodded, trusting in Tyrrik’s perceptiveness. All of the general weirdness could account for the warning stir inside. Let’s keep our guard up anyway.

  Glancing at Dyter again, I saw he’d moved closer to the servant. Or she to him. And her smile wasn’t sad anymore, at all. Dyter drew closer to her, and I wrinkled my nose, leaned in to Tyrrik, and whispered, “Dyter’s not acting that way because of what he ate, right?”

  “Why don’t you go ask him?”

  I raised my eyebrows and leveled my mate with a flat look that made him grin.

  “Will you please go and check?” I asked, avoiding further glances in Dyter’s direction. That woman had been eyeing Dyter the way I looked at Tyrrik, and considering the activity around us . . . “Please?”

  Tyrrik cleared his throat with a suspicious twitch of the lips. His eyes were still fixed on Dyter’s head, and I didn’t dare turn to look as my mate side-stepped me to go and talk to Dyter.

  I tried to locate our group. Five women had clustered around the twins, and the entire group was now occupied in leisurely pursuits involving taking their aketons off. Dilowa was busy not-speaking to the man who’d distracted her before, and he was frisking her . . . maybe for hidden weapons. I felt like the floor rolled under my feet. How had our entire party lost their minds? And Zarad . . . I threw my head back with frustration, and my gaze snagged—

  My jaw dropped, and I squeezed my eyes shut. No way. No way. That was too much.

  Dyter wants to be where he is.

  My discomfort with the current situation simmered close to anger. Are you kidding me? Did you ask him properly?

  I breathed in his face and asked him. So, yes.

  I huffed with frustration, but I couldn’t argue with that.

  Dyter glanced over at Tyrrik and offered a half-smile. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  “That’s it?” I asked.

  Almost as if he could hear me, Dyter continued, “I guess we’re here for the night, so enjoy a little time off. Meet under the arch if things go awry or tomorrow at first light.”

  I dropped the veil and hollered after Dyter, “Is that . . . wise?”

  Only Tyrrik remained. I hadn’t even noticed Tiago disappear. I groaned. Was I the only one freaked out by this spawn show?

  Ugh, what are we going to do to kill time? Seems like everyone else is playing cards. I stepped closer to Tyrrik as a scantily clad Azuli male brushed my side. I don’t want to leave them here in case something is afoot. Am I seriously the only one who thinks this is weird? Do you really believe we can’t leave until morning?

  There are guards at the doors. The queen agreed to help, and there’s a lot of stimuli. Tyrrik dragged his finger down the back of my aketon and then tugged me closer. His heat radiated into the space between us, and like a moth to the flame, I inched back a little further. Want to find a corner?

  I lifted my brows even though he couldn’t see. The crowd of people continued to writhe in their frenzied orgy, and I worried my eyes were going to pop out of my head. A lot of stimuli was an understatement. I took another step back until my body was flush with Tyrrik’s. Wiggling my butt I asked, A corner to do what?

  He stilled behind me. To watch the room.

  I pursed my lips, a little disappointed in his response. Oh yeah, that’s what I was thinking too. Or maybe play cards. Or dance the maypole. Everyone else is doing it so we should, too, right?

  Tyrrik spun me to face him with his hands on my shoulders, and I tilted my head to peek up at him through my lashes. I grinned at his heated gaze. I rose up on my tiptoes, bringing my mouth closer to his, and asked, “Are you okay?”

  No.

  I brushed my lips down his jaw. Has anyone ever mentioned you become monosyllabic when you’re turned on?

  He kneaded my back and nestled closer to me. It’s because all the blood leaves my head.

  I snorted and then suppressed a laugh. I needed to stop playing cards, or I wouldn’t want to stop, and neither would Tyrrik. I wrenched myself back and rotated away from Tyrrik’s face, hearing him groan behind me. Risking my mental health, I stole a glance to Dyter and the Veraldian servant. And froze. My mouth dried, and panic thundered in my chest.

  “Where’s Dyter?” I asked, spinning back to Tyrrik.

  24

  Tyrrik blinked as though trying to see through a fog, and then shook his head, the focus returning to his eyes in a moment. He glanced over the crowd, a much easier task for someone of his height, and frowned.

  “Well?” I demanded, still scouring the throng of Azulis myself. “They said no one leaves until morning.”

  I can’t see him, Tyrrik said. But have you considered that he’s gone to find a corner somewhere? Maybe he wanted privacy?

  I don’t care. He doesn’t get to do things like that. And he wouldn’t. Not when we’re in a new place with dodgy people.

  I sniffed the food, Ryn. There was nothing wrong with it. And she was from Verald. Maybe they’re just catching up on old times.

  “Like how Irdelron was the spawn of evil?” I snapped. “Sorry, but nope. I don’t care if I see Dyter’s hairy butt,” I decided after chewing on my bottom lip. “I need to know he’s okay. He can play cards where I can see him if that’s what he wants to be doing.”

  I glanced around the room at the rest of our party again and sighed. If we went to find Dyter, the others would be left unattended, and they were definitely not being responsible. Crazy sex-show or not, I was done. I growled, “Let’s round the others up.”

  “You go and get Dilowa,” Tyrrik said. “I’ll handle the others.”

  “You mean you don’t want me to look at the naked male bodies of our group,” I grumbled, secretly relieved. Or not so secretly I supposed, thanks to the mate-bond. Bonded life.

  Not waiting for his reply, I pushed into the throng, weaving my way through the pulsating and sweaty gathering toward Dilowa. Reaching out, I snagged what I hoped was her wrist.

  She turned to me, cheeks flushed and eyes heavy with lust. Slurring, she said, “Lady Ryn?”

  “Hey.” I drew the word out, doing my best to avoid looking at her partner, though they did appear to have most of their clothes on, unlike pretty much everyone else in the room. Drak, I hadn’t thought of an excuse for my interruption.

  “Bathroom break?” I offered, jabbing my thumb behind me.

  Her now-clear eyes narrowed. “Okay.”

  “Woohoo,” I said and then pulled her away from her partner and into the crowd. I made it five feet before realizing how much resistance she was giving me, and I glanced back to see I was all-but dragging the commander along the ground. Yikes. “Sorry, my Drae is a little on edge right now.”

  Releasing her wris
t, I waited as she regained her footing and then averted my eyes as she adjusted her aketon.

  Meet where we were before, I thought to Tyrrik.

  “What’s actually happening?” Dilowa asked, now standing next to me. “I thought we were going to have the night to work the room?”

  Is that what she called it? Okaay.

  “Who was that?” I asked, jerking my head back at the guy she’d been with.

  She arched a brow and moved in close, whispering in my ear, “Prince Marb, Queen Mily’s brother. He’s responsible for security.”

  My eyes rounded. Either Dilowa knew how to pick ‘em, or she was incredibly lucky. “No way.”

  “Way.”

  “Can he get us out of here?” I asked as Tyrrik arrived with the rest of our team.

  Zarad was shrugging back into his aketon, and an image of his butt flashed in my mind. I hoped I wouldn’t have to relive that memory too many more times.

  “What’s the matter?” Zarad asked, his eyes flashing with frustration. The others in the group seemed to be hiding their frustration better if they were feeling it.

  “Dyter’s missing,” I said to our group, lowering my voice, still untrusting of the clamor within the huge hall. Several of our group gave me a blank stare, and I huddled forward until they all did the same and repeated, “Dyter’s missing.”

  “You don’t need us to find him,” one of the assassins said, straightening.

  “Yes,” I snapped. “I do. I’m not leaving any of our group here in this strangeness.” I glared at Nielub and said sharply, “We came here for a reason, and it wasn’t just to have a good time. Or have you all forgotten that?”

  Seriously, I was how old, and they were how old?

  Tyrrik came to stand behind me. “We’re searching for Dyter now. Everyone is helping. Pair up, and canvas the room. Meet back here in ten minutes.”

  Neilub cast a longing look back into the crowd and then groaned. “Fine.”

  He spun away toward the archway to our right. It was the closest doorway to where Dyter and the woman had been. Perhaps the assassin had been paying more attention than I thought, but then he started toward the door, and I rolled my eyes.