by Queen, Nyna
“Of course, my love.”
There was an awkward moment. Makesh looked as though he wanted to say something else to Alex, but in the end he just nodded his head at her, murmured, “Lady,” and walked past.
Alex looked after him with a thousand words unspoken in her throat, unable to bring any of them over her tongue.
Oblivious, Isabella picked up the bags she’d packed with all their stuff and took her daughter’s hand.
“It was a pleasure meeting you, Lady de Nuy. Say bye, Norah.”
The girl waved her small hand. “Bye.”
“Bye,” Alex whispered, waving back mechanically. Keeping her smile in place took all of her will. They walked away without looking back, Norah hopping from foot to foot, swinging her ‘crown’ at her side. The metal caught the sunlight, a golden star flashing underneath the canopy. All of a sudden, it felt like a pitiful gift. Completely inadequate. A twisted piece of metal that would probably end up in the trash bin at home first thing.
Alex watched their backs until they vanished from view. Off to meet with their family. Her family. The family that would never know about her. The family she would never belong to. Despite being surrounded by dozens of talking, laughing people, Alex suddenly felt so alone in the world, she wanted to scream.
Oh, it was a tempting thought. Isabella seemed nice. And she thought Alex was kind. No, she thought ‘Alexandre de Nuy’ was kind. Alex doubted she would be too happy letting ‘Alexis the shaper’ play with her children in the yard.
Alex saw it all unfold in front of her inner eye: the confession; Makesh and Isabella yelling at each other; Isabella beside herself with rage and screaming at him, why had he never told her? What had he been thinking bringing a shaper mongrel into their respectable home? And the children hiding behind a table, following the clash with big eyes and, when Alex approached them, running from her like spooked horses.
The disgrace. The gossip. If the family relation became public, her brother might even lose his new position at the High Court. She would bring them nothing but trouble. And who was she anyway, to disrupt their perfect little family life?
Alex sucked in a deep breath to dispel the pained dizziness flooding her head. It didn’t matter. Right now, she had a giant price tag on her head, and if she didn’t find a way to remove it, she would be sold to the butcher, and all of these thoughts would be futile, anyway.
Discreetly watering the bushes with her punch, Alex left her glass on a deserted table for a servant to clear away and swiftly left the meadow behind.
Her feet carried her away from the mass of people, from the sound of their laughter and joy, until she found herself in a quiet apple orchard with long rows of trees feathered in white and pale pink flowers. Alex wandered among the wispy trees, the shattering beauty around her completely at odds with the dull, crushing pain inside her, mocking her with the promise of life and growth when her hands were holding nothing but broken shards.
When she lived in the Trash Bin and worked her ass off in the Jester's Inn, she had never fantasized about meeting her brothers again, had never imagined a life in trueborn society. She would never have allowed herself such foolish dreams, knowing these thoughts were the colorful candy in the sweet shops of the cities she would never get to taste. But being here, playing this part, had turned her world upside down and torn cracks into all her defenses. She wasn’t out in the street any longer, taking but a fleeting peek through a window. She was inside that candy shop now, smelling the sugar, tasting the flavor of honey on her lips, and she was as desperate for a real bite as any child which had been denied candy all its life.
But that candy wasn’t for her to eat.
Alex folded herself to the earth at the foot of one of the trees and wrapped her arms around herself, breathing in the sweetest of air, yet feeling like she was slowly suffocating.
She would never be part of her brothers’ families. But what was even worse, was that she had come to believe their own lie: that she had somehow become a part of the Dubois family.
Stupid, sugar, so stupid!
She was part of nothing. She was tolerated, yes, but that was about it. To think that Darken’s family cared about what happened to her if all this was over was the biggest delusion she could fall into. And Darken…
Alex squeezed her eyes shut. His face appeared in her mind, rakish and handsome and so entirely out of reach that conquering the stars seemed a more possible quest. In her dreams, he decided to fall madly in love with her and everything else didn’t matter. Everything simply fell in place, the world forging a path to their happily ever after.
But that’s not how the world worked. Shapers never got the candy.
Tears stung Alex’s eyes, but she wiped them away angrily with the back of her hand.
Look at yourself, she thought, disgusted. Sitting here and crying like a little girl for the unfairness of the world. Rachel would be so proud of you!
Sucking in a shaky breath, Alex pushed herself to her feet and shook out her skirt.
She had a job to finish. The others counted on her, and she wouldn’t let them down, no matter if they truly cared for her or not. Because she cared for them. So she would do what she always did.
Fall down. Stand up. Straighten your crown. Carry on. Alexis Harper, the shaper queen of the garbage dump.
CHAPTER TEN
THE orchard took a while to conquer, and Alex used the walk to regain her composure. When she finally reached its other end, she felt almost in control of herself again.
A dreamy hedge path opened before her and she entered it, following its crooked lead until it spit her out close to the lake at the bottom of the hill. In the bright afternoon sun, its surface was a creamy expanse of gold and pearl.
Close to the shore, a throng of people had gathered around a round-faced woman in a beautiful moss-green dress with sun-red hair arranged in an artful crown around her head. A summer queen holding court.
Curious. Bonny wasn’t exactly a social butterfly. Despite her sunny spirit, her lack of status and money usually made her more of a misfit among the elite, but right now, everybody around was pressing close, straining to hear what she had to say. Curious, indeed.
Alex strolled closer without actually immersing herself in the knot of people. No need. The spider in her could hear just fine from where she stood.
Bonny was talking about some kind of art event. “This year will be particularly spectacular,” she was saying. “Never before have so many patrons provided pieces for the exhibition.” She beamed. “Uncle Ramier has his hands full just with properly placing all of them in the gallery hall…”
“There’s going to be an auction in the afternoon, won’t there?” a girl in a dress of pale blue flowers asked.
Bonny nodded brightly. “Oh yes! A good number of the patrons have offered their art to be sold through the auction. They will receive half of the earnings while the other half will be donated to Juleen’s College of Arcane Arts to be spent on scholarships for children from less privileged families to—”
“Is it true that a real Rhinoux is going to be auctioned off?” a woman in pink interrupted.
Around her, several people gasped.
“Now, you know that I’m not allowed to give you any detailed information on the auction pieces,” Bonny chided playfully, earning a ripple of disappointed murmurs. “But if I were you, I would definitely keep an eye out for it,” she added with a big wink.
Someone squeaked, and a wave of excited whispers travelled through the crowd.
Behind Bonny, Cecile de Moineaut—Alex’s special bestie—rolled her eyes and yanked on the arm of the handsome young man escorting her, dragging the poor guy away like a dog on a leash. The little diva just couldn’t bear it if someone else was hogging the limelight for a while, could she? Not that her dress wasn’t drawing enough attention as it was. A mere whiff of transparent fabric, it was dotted with tiny bunches of flowers that had been sewn on strategically to barely cover her female
zones. Alex supposed you could say she technically wasn’t naked—although she wore less than any back-alley slut Alex had ever encountered.
Bonny spotted her through a gap between the people around her and her face brightened.
“Lexy!”
Ditching her surprised audience, she shoved herself through the mob, grabbed Alex’s arm and spun her around, making the delicate petals of her bright red skirt fly.
“Alexandre, just how do you always manage to look so gorgeous? You must give me the name of that tailor of yours one of these days. This dress is exquisite.”
Before Alex had a chance to reply, Bonny took her hand and steered her away from the others, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder and increasing her speed.
“I’m so glad you’re here, Lexy,” she breathed after a moment. “I thought I would never get rid of them.”
Alex chuckled. “Glad to be of help. What was that all about, anyway?”
“Oh, those vultures,” Bonny muttered with a disgusted expression. “Normally they wouldn’t bother to look at me over the tips of their powdered noses, but as soon as they think they can milk you for something, then suddenly you’re everbody’s best friend. Well, that’s the royal elite for you.” She heaved a sigh and led Alex over to a wooden bench. They sat in the shelter of a bunch of fragrant jasmine bushes.
Bonny plucked a white jasmine flower from the greens and turned it over and over in her hands.
“My uncle Ramier has been appointed this year’s organizer of the Kaelta Art Exhibition which takes place next week.” A slight grimace flickered over her features. “I’m supporting him with the preparations, and now they think that if they butter me up, I’ll help them with getting their hands on their desired art works.” She shook her head. “As if I have that kind of influence! And even if I had, it would be completely improper to engage in such conduct.”
She paused and cocked her head, throwing a sidelong glance at Alex. “What about you, Lexy? Would you be interested in visiting the gallery?”
Art, huh? If there was something Alex was even less interested in than fashion and politics, it was probably the arts.
She was about to politely but firmly decline the invitation, but seeing the look of gleeful anticipation on Bonny’s face, she didn’t find it in herself to snub the other girl.
“Oh, well … I mean, sure, why not?”
Imagining spending several hours in a room full of dull paintings and flowery vases … kill me now!
Bonny’s grin almost split her face in two. “If you come, I can give you a guided tour. Uncle Ramier already let me see all the exhibit pieces beforehand, and I had time to do some thorough research on them. You could say I know everything there is to know about them.” She giggled. “Even the auction pieces.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “You won’t tell, will you? But they are right about the Rhinoux, although I have no idea where they got that bit from. Senator Roukewood is donating one of his. Isn’t that awfully generous? His lordship is a real connoisseur of the arts. My uncle says that he visits the exhibition every year and often buys new pictures for the private gallery at his estate.” She squeezed Alex’s arm. “A private gallery, can you imagine? I’d kill to take a peek at it. Rumor has it that his family possesses very ancient artworks. Some pieces are said to be several hundred years old.”
Alex thought about telling Bonny not to expect too much—after all, old Roukie had been absolutely stoked about that blank picture in the castle tower at the Royal Palace—then again, the senator and Bonny seemed to be cut from the same cloth when it came to art.
After a while, they got up and drifted through the park together, the other girl chatting in her usual one-thousand-words-in-three-seconds way, and Alex was glad about it as it spared her the pains of conducting small talk with any of the other guests. Soon, she was updated on all the latest gossip, and the sun was dipping low toward the horizon, wrapped in a bright, colorful cloak of dusk.
They passed a food pavilion where an assortment of delicious-looking cupcakes was arranged under a cooling sigil. Their sweet scent made Alex’s mouth water, and she realized she hadn’t eaten in hours.
She pulled Bonny into the pavilion.
“Wait a moment, will you? I’ve got to try some of these.”
Alex snatched a brown muffin from a plate and took a big bite. The taste exploded in her mouth, dark chocolate melting on her tongue, both sweet and rich, combined with the slight tartness of raspberries.
Mother’s mercy and Jester’s fucking grace! It was pure heaven.
Next was a vanilla and strawberry tart, deliciously sweet and so heavy on cream you could all but hear the calories dropping on your hips. Alex sighed with delight. The Great Mother have mercy on her, but she wouldn’t leave before she had tried every single one of these cupcakes.
When she bit into a coffee and almond cupcake, she realized Bonny was ogling her with eyes the size of saucers. She swallowed, wondering if she’d accidentally smeared her entire face with cream.
“What?”
Bonny opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. “Just … where do you leave all that? I mean look at you. You’re super-slim and I … if I ate all that you’d have to heft me up that hill with a crane…”
“Oh, I have a good metabolism.” Alex grinned. All shapers do, she added silently.
“Well, lucky you,” Bonny muttered, wistfully eyeing one of the chocolate cakes.
A drum started to beat in the distance, sending ripples of vibrations through the ground. Alex snapped upright, attempting to palm a knife before she realized she didn’t even have a sleeve where she could have stashed it. Inside her, the spider flashed its teeth, alarmed.
“What’s happening?”
Beside her, Bonny’s eyes sparkled. She clapped her hands. “Oooohhh, it’s time!”
“Time? Time for what?”
“The ritual, of course! Come, Lexy!”
Bonny dragged Alex back to the lake, and they were soon swallowed by a crowd of people streaming in the same direction. Magic torches on elegant silver posts had been lit along the paths, waving like glowing golden ribbons through the violet twilight gloom. The sun was sinking into the lake, hugged by violet and purple clouds, a soft pink blush against the dark outline of the trees at the distant shore.
More torches had been stuck into the earthy shore of the lake, their flames licking at the darkening sky.
As they neared the lake’s bank, Alex could see that six wooden sticks carved with arcane glyphs had been driven into the ground around the earthy mound where the Flower Maidens had placed the ‘sacred’ flowers this morning, each topped with a sparkling amplifier crystal. Huge ones, too. They formed a hexagon around the mound. On the ground, a complicated web of silver thread connected the sticks, a six-pointed star glowing softy in the torchlight, the symbol for the balance of the elements incen, agua, terrum, and aeris—fire, water, earth, and air. Someone was preparing to perform some heavy-duty magic here.
Alex touched Bonny’s shoulder. “What are—?”
“Shhhh!” Bonny put a finger to her lips, but her eyes twinkled. “They are about to begin.”
The calling drums stopped. An expectant hush fell over the crowd.
Alex’s skin prickled with excitement although she had no idea what was about to happen.
A soft silver gong sounded, clear and pure, its high note echoing out under the canopy.
From the shadows between the tree, six hooded figures emerged into the torchlight, the hems of their deep green cloaks embroidered with knotted thread of gold and silver brushing the earth. They floated over the mossy ground, softly and silently like spirits woven from smoke and earth, taking position at each point of the star-shaped sigil, facing the hollow in the mound with hands solemnly folded in front of their chest. The figure closest to the audience turned around. Frail hands reached upward and pulled down the hood. Long, silver hair cascaded down slim shoulders, haloing a face that age had been kind to. Her ey
es glimmered with pale green under almost transparent lids powdered with lashes of snow.
The old woman raised her fragile hands to the sides.
“Welcome children.” Her voice carried through the dusk in a melodious sing-song. “Tonight we have come together to celebrate the Summer Solstice, the time when the sun is at its pinnacle, and when the days are longest and the nights are brightest. This festival is a celebration of life, of growth and rebirth. A celebration of the Great Mother herself, the creator of life…”
She went on to praise the achievements of trueborn society to the entranced audience, their incredible ascent from the primitive ancient tribes of the old ages to their glorious current society, stressing the importance to remember the struggles of their ancestors and honor them by keeping up their traditions.
…humbly we give … blah blah blah … offering our very souls in gratitude … blah blah blah…
Alex wondered if they ever listened to themselves, preaching humbleness and gratitude when at the same time engaging in the most excessive acts of overindulgence and extravagance.
The old woman opened her right hand. “Let us complete the cycle, just as our ancestors did before us. Earth to fire. Fire to ashes. Ashes to earth.” A trickle of magic brushed against Alex, shy, almost hesitant, like a feather stroking her neck. A little flame ignited over the old woman’s palm, dancing above her fingers. “To earth we give and of earth we shall receive.”
She veered back to the mound, the flame still flickering in her hand.
The other cloaked figures raised their hands too, flames sparking to life above them, magic accumulating around them like a glowing ribbon.
“Incen!” The old woman cried. The hooded figures thrust their hands forward and in the center of the mound, a column of fire roared upward, flames blazing up at the sky.