Page 52 of The Bones of the Cursed

We enter the city of Percius just after noon. The cobblestone streets are damp from a recent rain shower, the air humid and making my hair stick to my neck. I am very aware of how long it has been since I washed with anything more than a soapy cloth under my arms. Malakai walks us directly to the castle, the wrought iron gates looming only a handful of feet in front of us. Soldiers stand at attention and my palms turn clammy. Malakai thinks we can just waltz in unannounced? Surely there’sa protocol for meeting with the king and queen. A quick glance at Kailu has me worried, now that he’s finally in his Fae form. He doesn’t look well. Shadows mar his face, and it looks as if he hasn’t cleaned up since leaving me.

The guards at the gate don’t even blink as we approach, they simply push them open and allow us to pass through. A few stable hands wait just inside the gates, prepared to take the horses for some much-needed rest. I am left gaping after everyone, because Malakai really just strolled right in like he owned the place. Hannah side-eyes me, so at least I’m not alone in my confusion. Honeysuckle twines up the brick front of the castle, the smell of flowers hanging in the air. Apple trees line the walkway as we approach the large oaken front doors. Malakai, Siveral, Hendrix, and Kailu continue towards the front door while the rest of the soldiers branch off to other locations.

I quickly catch up to the rest of the group following behind Hannah. Stepping into the castle, I become self-conscious, my boots clomping on the pristine marble floor, dropping clumps of mud. I turn the corner to find Malakai entering what can only be the throne room due to the number of nobles filtering in and out. Stepping inside, I balk at the opulence: white marble floors, a gold chandelier, and two golden thrones, their tops engraved with the royal crest. And there stands Malakai in the center of everything.

With the king and queen staring with wide eyes from their seated positions just a few feet from Malakai’s reach.

King Castair and Queen Lucilia are directly in front of me.

Malakai offers a slight bow and I drop to my knees, following the rest of the group’s lead. Nobody moves, nobody talks. Hell, I don’t even think I breathe.

The queen stands, stepping down off the dais, her shoes making a dainty clicking noise on the marble as she struts towards Malakai. My first thought is she is going to send us allto the dungeons for barging in here with no notice. Panic courses through me, and I notice Malakai stiffen, as if he can feel the tension crawling up my skin.

Shit. He probably can. He’s my mate. Or at least there is a strong chance that he is.

The queen stops in front of him. I wait with bated breath, my body prepared to fight to the death. She shocks the hell out of me when she pulls him in for a hug instead.

Only Hannah and I seem surprised.

The queen looks over Malakai’s shoulder, smirking. “It looks as if some in your group are dismayed. Are they unaware that you are the heir to the throne?”

If my jaw could drop any lower, it would.

Malakai peeks over at me, and I swear he might be blushing. He also looks guilty as hell. Shock is quickly replaced by anger at the realization he lied to me again. Well, not lied, because I never thought to ask if he was the damnprince—but he hid the truth.

I grit my teeth, holding back the words that want to break free. The king never once rises from his throne or greets anyone. He just stares. I fidget beneath his gaze because it seems to be solely focused on me.

“It seems as if you all have had quite the journey,” the queen continues. “Why don’t you freshen up in the guest quarters, and then we can sit down to dinner? Maybe you can explain to us what is going on then.”

Malakai gives a nod, leading us out. As we leave the room, I hear the queen speak again: “Good to see you again, Kailu.”

Malakai shows everyone to a room in the east wing of the castle, saving me for last. The paintings that line the hall portray the realm’s history. The Gods and Goddess of both Hell and the Vale. The past and present kings and queens. I step inside the room he shows me to, but right as I’m about to shut the door in his face, he gently grabs my forearm.

“Alanis, I can explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain,” I say, as sweetly as I possibly can, and shamelessly meet his gaze. “You don’t owe me shit.”

His fingers clench around my arm. “I tried to tell you before we got here, but then you wouldn’t look at me or speak to me.”

“Ah, so it’smyfault.”

“No, that’s not—”

I pull out of his grasp, knowing full well it’s only because he let me. “Don’t worry about it. I get it. I may be your mate, who knows? Maybe it’s just some curse that ties us together. I’ve read about things like that. Either way, I’m sure having a mate wasn’t top on your priority list. I appreciate your help, but I expect nothing from you.”

He looks as if I punched him. “We are friends at the very least, are we not?”

A part of me feels guilty for my harsh words. I look down, his words tearing into my already broken heart. “I thought so, but it seems I was wrong.” With that, I shut the door.

The room is absolutely decadent. An enormous, white four-poster bed sits in the middle of the room with a flowing canopy. The floors are white and gold marble. The windows stretch from the floor to the ceiling, the afternoon sunlight pouring in with the black velvet curtains pulled back to showcase the massive garden and patio outside, just a floor below.

I head to the bathing room. Of course it’s just as beautiful and keeps with the black, white, and gold theme. I turn on the faucet for the tub, gladly stripping off my dirty clothes. I add some citrus-scented salts and slide into the water, letting out a sigh as the heat eases my sore muscles.

When I step back out, brushing my hair with a delicate comb I found in a basket on the counter, I notice a dress laying on the bed. It wasn’t here before my bath. I run my finger down the gauzy, sage green material. Butterflies line the straps andtop of the corset. Slipping it on, I admire myself in the mirror. The torso is pulled tight, but the skirt flares out right above my hips, falling gently to the floor. Butterflies decorate the skirt and bodice. The shoes are just as gorgeous; gold, open-toed heels with a butterfly adorning the back, right on the heel.

I’ve never worn anything so beautiful.

I bristle at all the hoops we need to jump through just to get more information, all while my brother is Gods knows where. Unfortunately, I need to learn what the king and queen know, so it wouldn’t help if I insulted them by showing up smelling like I spent weeks on horseback.

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