But what could that be? I had no idea, which worried me. I couldn’t play the game if I didn’t know the rules or especially the stakes. Still, I’d come all this way, and I wasn’t leaving without doing everything possible to get what I wanted and do what was best for Bellona.
So instead of storming away again, I reined in my anger and worry. “Tell the king that I will be delighted to dine with him.”
Sullivan nodded. “As you wish.”
He stared at me, his blue gaze searching mine, and I once again got the impression that he wanted to tell me something. Instead, he turned and walked away, his long gray coat swirling around him.
Still, as I watched him head back into the throne room, I couldn’t help but think that I’d just gotten myself into even more trouble by accepting the king’s invitation.
* * *
Sullivan moved out of my line of sight, but someone else stepped out of the throne room to take his place—Rhea.
Despite the fact that she was still clearly pissed, the captain marched over to me, along with several Andvarian guards. Paloma’s hand drifted down to her mace again, and Rhea gave her a flat stare before looking at me.
“If you will follow me, Queen Everleigh,” Rhea said through gritted teeth, “I will show you to your chambers. Your servants and guards are also being taken to the appropriate quarters.”
She whipped around on her heel and strode off. I glanced at my friends, but they shrugged, and I had no real choice but to follow the captain. At least she knew where she was going.
Rhea led us through hallway after hallway, each one more ornate and lavishly furnished than the last. I wondered if she had picked this particular route to remind me yet again of Andvari’s staggering wealth. Probably.
But the dazzling, bejeweled palace wasn’t nearly as fascinating as the gargoyles that inhabited it.
As we moved from one corridor to the next, I realized that several oddly shaped shadows kept sliding along on the floor beside me. At first, I couldn’t figure out what the shadows were or where they were coming from. Then we entered a hallway with a domed, glass ceiling, and I caught sight of the gargoyles hovering outside.
They were all shapes and sizes, and they all seemed to be glaring down at me with their bright, jewel-toned eyes, just like the creature had earlier during my ride through the city. I shivered and hurried on, not wanting to give the gargoyles any excuse to crash through the ceiling and attack me.
Eventually, we climbed a set of stairs that spiraled up into one of the palace’s towers and stopped at some double doors at the end of a long hallway. Rhea produced a skeleton key from her pocket and snapped the lock open. She signaled a couple of guards, who took hold of the metal rings and opened the heavy doors.
The captain hadn’t said a word during our entire march, and she strode into the room without breaking her angry silence. Once again, I had no choice but to follow her.
Like everything else at Glitnir, the chambers were pristine and spectacular. The left side of the room featured gray velvet settees and chairs arranged around a fireplace, while the right side boasted a writing desk, along with other smaller tables and chairs. An enormous four-poster bed covered with a gray duvet and mounds of black pillows dominated the back half of the room, along with an armoire, a nightstand, and a vanity table that was even larger than the one in the queen’s chambers at Seven Spire.
A set of double doors off to the left opened up onto a large stone balcony, while a door off to the right led into a bathroom done in gray and black tile. A gray porcelain tub mounted on silver gargoyle heads took up most of the bathroom, along with a long counter, a sink, and a toilet, all trimmed with silver.
Jewels glittered and gleamed everywhere I looked, from the sapphire knobs on the writing desk drawers to the diamond handles on the armoire to the rubies embedded in the wooden frame that circled the vanity table mirror. The area was even more opulent than the hallways and certainly richer than anything at Seven Spire, including the queen’s chambers. Why, those sapphire knobs alone were easily worth more than the crown on my head.
“Several guards will be posted outside, in case you need anything, Your Majesty.” Rhea spat out the words. “You should rest and prepare for dinner.”
Her meaning was clear—I was not to leave the chambers until Heinrich summoned me.
Rhea didn’t wait for a response before she stormed out of the room. The Andvarian guards followed her, although several of them stayed behind in the hallway outside and eyed the Bellonan guards with clear hostility.
“All things considered, that went pretty well,” I murmured. “At least she didn’t try to take my head off with her sword again.”
“Oh, yes,” Xenia drawled. “What amazing diplomatic progress you’ve made.”
A knock sounded on one of the open doors, and Calandre bustled inside, along with her sisters and several servants carrying my luggage. Under Calandre’s watchful eyes, the servants quickly unpacked my things. I told the thread master about Heinrich’s dinner invitation, and she promised to return to help me get ready. Calandre left the chambers, with her sisters and the servants trailing behind her. Two Bellonan guards stepped forward and pulled the doors shut behind them.
Now that we were alone, Serilda, Cho, Xenia, and Paloma relaxed in chairs in front of the fireplace, but I started pacing from one side of the room to the other and back again, staring at the closed doors every time I passed them.
“Will Calandre and the rest of the servants and guards be safe out there?” I asked in a worried voice.
“Safe enough,” Serilda said. “Our people will be given their own rooms next to the other servants and guards. There might be some skirmishes between our people and the Andvarians, but Heinrich will honor his offer of hospitality. Rhea will follow his orders, and she’ll tell her people to do the same. Heinrich won’t harm you or anyone in the Bellonan entourage while we’re at Glitnir.”
“But that doesn’t mean someone else won’t take matters into their own hands,” Cho pointed out. “Everyone is still quite angry about Frederich’s murder. I’ll tell the servants and guards to be careful, and we will all do the same.”
Serilda, Paloma, and Xenia nodded.
“I thought that when I killed Vasilia that I had killed her cruelty too. But that’s not the case. She’s still fucking me over, even from beyond the grave.” I sighed and looked at Xenia. “What can I do to convince Heinrich that I had nothing to do with the massacre?”
Xenia shrugged. “I don’t think you can. At least, not until you show him what happened. Even then, he still might not believe you. All you can do is see how Heinrich acts at dinner. Then maybe you can tell whether he’ll agree to a new treaty.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
She shrugged again. “Then we will pack up, return to Bellona, and think of another way to deal with the Mortans.”
Not what I wanted to hear, but telling hard truths was Xenia’s job as my advisor. Still, I kept pacing in frustration.
“Well, I’m concerned about something else,” Serilda said. “I’ve spent a lot of time at Glitnir over the years, and I’ve never seen Heinrich like this before.”
Cho nodded, agreeing with her. “Me neither.”
“Like what?” I asked.
Serilda tapped her fingers on her chair arm. “I don’t know, exactly. Heinrich isn’t the same as I remember. He almost looks . . . ill.” Her eyebrows drew together, and her blue gaze grew dark and distant, as if she was trying to use her magic to sort through all the possibilities that might explain her unease.
“His son was murdered, along with his ambassador and his countrymen,” Paloma pointed out. “We’re all a harsh reminder of that, especially Evie. That’s enough to make anyone ill.”
“Yes, it is,” Xenia murmured. “Yes, it is.”
Her low, strained voice made it sound like she was speaking from personal experience, as did the scent of ashy heartbreak that wafted off her. But how could that be? As far
as I knew, Xenia didn’t have any children. Then again, I hadn’t realized she was a spy either, much less a cousin to the Ungerian queen. I wondered if I would ever get to see the real Xenia, whomever she might be.
She shook her head, as if she was pushing away the memories, as well as whatever pain they brought along with them. “Anyway, we need to be out and about in the palace, gathering information, not sitting here.” Xenia got to her feet. “I’ll report back when I know more, Evie.”
Serilda also surged to her feet and shot Xenia a pointed look. “As will I.”
Xenia and Serilda had some long, complicated history that I didn’t understand, but everything was always a competition between them. Sometimes, I felt like a tiny gladiator figurine trapped in an arena diorama, relegated to standing around and watching while the two of them played a perpetual tug-of-war with me.
Xenia and Serilda both promised to report back when they’d learned more, then left. Cho went with them to make sure that Calandre and the other servants were being treated well.
Paloma also headed toward the open doors. I started to follow her into the hallway, but she held out her hand, stopping me.
“I’m going to check on the guards,” she said. “You need to stay here.”
“What? Why?”
“Because Captain Rhea tried to kill you less than an hour ago, and she told you to stay put until dinner—or else,” Paloma said in her annoying, matter-of-fact tone. “You might have beaten Rhea, but it’s better not to tempt fate by giving her another crack at you. Don’t worry. I’ll help Cho make sure that everyone is taken care of, and I’ll tell our people not to start any stupid fights with the Andvarians.”
I threw up my hands in frustration. “But I’m the bloody queen! That’s my job. Not yours.”
Paloma shrugged. “And it’s my job as your personal guard to keep you safe. And you will be much safer staying in here than you will be roaming the hallways where an angry guard could shove his sword into your back or one of the nobles could cut your throat. I’ll come get you when it’s time for dinner. Until then, try to relax, Evie. You’ve already fought for your life once today. Isn’t that enough?”
Before I could protest, she stepped outside and signaled the guards to shut the doors behind her. Not only that, but as soon as the doors swung shut, I heard a loud, telltale click.
“Oh, no, you didn’t!”
I rattled one of the rings, but the doors had been locked from the outside, confirming my suspicion.
I stared at the closed doors in disbelief. My friends had actually locked me in my room like I was an unruly child they didn’t have the patience to deal with. Frustration surged through me, although I resisted the urge to scream and beat my fists against the stone. That would have been pointless. Besides, I didn’t know who might be standing on the other side of the door, and I didn’t want them to hear my petulant fit.
Sighing, I plodded over to the vanity table and sat down. Calandre had once again done an excellent job securing my crown to my head, and it took me a few minutes to remove all the tiny pins from my hair, set them aside, and pluck the band off my head.
I rubbed my thumb over the crown-of-shards crest in the center of the silver, wondering how things had gone so wrong so quickly. The midnight-blue shards glittered at me like seven tiny, narrow eyes, silently accusing me of being the reason for all these problems. I sighed, knowing it was the truth.
Once again, I was tempted to hurl the crown onto the floor and then stomp on it for good measure. But that would have been as childish and pointless as pounding on the locked doors, so I set it down on the table instead.
I didn’t have anything to do until Calandre and her sisters returned to help me get ready for dinner, so I prowled around, studying the furniture and checking to make sure that Rhea—or someone else—hadn’t left me any nasty surprises.
A decanter of poisoned wine sitting with the other bottles on a table along the wall. A trip wire strung along the bathroom floor that would send a crossbow bolt flying out of the shadows. A coral viper tucked in my bed, waiting for me to slip under the sheets so it could strike. I checked for all those things and a dozen others, but I didn’t find any poisons, trip wires, or traps.
I also searched for hidden compartments in the furniture and secret passageways in the walls, hoping that I could slip out of my chambers undetected, but I didn’t find so much as the smallest cubbyhole in the writing desk or a hidden closet in the bathroom. Of course these chambers wouldn’t have a secret passageway. Heinrich would want his guests—especially the royal ones—to stay put and not roam around unsupervised.
My search had taken all of thirty minutes, and there were still hours to go before dinner. Frustrated and desperate, I went over to the glass doors that led to the balcony, wondering if I could get out of my chambers that way. I expected them to be locked from the outside, but the knobs twisted easily. I drew back the doors and strode outside.
The doors opened up onto a large stone balcony that curved outward like a crown. Sadly, there were no steps, and I didn’t see a way to actually get off the balcony, unless I wanted to strip the sheets off my bed and make a crude rope with them. Even then, I was on the third floor, and I doubted I had enough sheets to reach the ground. So I was stuck here.
The balcony might not have any steps, but it did feature two cushioned lounge chairs arranged around a table that boasted a frosted pitcher of blackberry lemonade and several glasses. Bite-size kiwi cakes, strawberry tarts, and chocolate mousse cups were laid out on a silver tray, while another one held grapes, crackers, and cheeses.
A small white card was also propped up on the table. Welcome was written on the card in thick black ink, while a large, fancy cursive D was embossed in gold foil in the top right corner. I traced my fingers over the foiled letter, wondering who I had to thank for this. Prince Dominic? Dahlia Sullivan? Someone else?
Whoever it was had done their homework, since the table featured some of my favorite foods. I didn’t know whether to be flattered or concerned. Both, most likely.
My stomach grumbled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten all day, so I poured a glass of lemonade and carefully sniffed it. I also reached out with my immunity, but I didn’t sense any magic. The drink was clean, so I took a sip.
The cold lemonade burst onto my tongue, the perfect blend of sweet and tart from the blackberries, lemons, and sugar, along with a faint, refreshing hint of mint. I also downed several cakes, grapes, crackers, and cheeses. The food was excellent, and it was the perfect light, refreshing snack to tide me over until dinner. I would have to thank the mysterious D for their thoughtfulness—and ask exactly how they knew what I liked to eat and drink.
I poured myself another glass of lemonade, then wandered around the balcony, examining the exquisite stonework, as well as the colorful clay pots filled with herbs and flowers lined up on the railing, basking in the afternoon sun. I’d never been much for plants, so the only thing I recognized was the mint, since the same type of sprigs were floating in the lemonade pitcher.
Still, I frowned as I fingered the mint leaves. Something about the pots and plants made me uneasy, even though they were just innocent bits of clay and color. Maybe it was because the leaves reminded me of the wormroot that Vasilia had used during the royal massacre, or how my father, Jarl, had been murdered with the same foul plant. I shuddered, dropped my hand, and turned away from the pots.
I went over to the center of the balcony, which curved outward and formed the top of the crown shape. I hadn’t noticed it before, but the balcony overlooked the famed Edelstein Gardens.
Autumn had already taken hold here in Andvari. Trees resplendent with red, orange, and yellow leaves towered over flower beds bursting with blue, purple, and pink blooms, while paths lined with black, wrought-iron benches curled past the beautiful blossoms.
And like everything else at Glitnir, the gardens were much more impressive than the royal lawn at Seven Spire. The trees were taller, the flowers
brighter, the paths wider. Not to mention all the other features. One area boasted ponds covered with water lilies, while the space next to it was filled with striped sand and sunbaked rocks. In another section, black netting was strung up like spiderwebs in the treetops to contain the butterflies flitting around below.
Even more precious jewels and metals were woven in with the greenery. Trees made of hammered gold, silver, and bronze gleamed here and there, while roses with emerald stems, onyx thorns, and ruby leaves were set into the ground next to the actual, living flowers. Round moonstones lined the paths, while bits of silver frosted the black benches. The mix of metals and trees, gems and flowers, soft petals and hard stones made the area even more stunning.
And then there was the gardens’ centerpiece—an enormous evergreen hedge maze. I squinted into the sun, trying to see the pattern the paths formed. The top part curved up in two separate places, almost like horns. Two more empty spaces looked like giant eyes, and the space below it seemed to be full of jagged teeth . . .
I grimaced. The maze was shaped like a gargoyle face. Of course it was.
A large, round dome jutted up where the gargoyle’s nose would be. It looked like a gazebo was standing there, in the center of the gardens, isolated from everything else. No doubt it was a marvel of architecture and crusted with metals and jewels, and seeing it was your reward for navigating through the complicated maze.
A path ran past my balcony, so I leaned against the railing and watched the people below. Servants mostly, carrying crates, platters, and more. A few guards wandered by as well, making sure that everything was proceeding as normal. But Glitnir seemed to run as smoothly as a Ryusaman clock, just like Seven Spire did, and I soon grew tired of my spying.
I was just about to go back inside and take a nap before dinner when Sullivan appeared on the path below.
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