Page 47 of Of Brides Of Queens

I cradled the black pearls to my chest and lifted my gaze to my reflection. “And what in the world could this mean, mirror of mine?”

I knew nothing but the pearls had an unbreakable hold on me.

The cloak of thief was not comfortable to wear or look at, and though my decision to steal the jewelry was bizarrely set, guilt was a beast of its own. I looked away from my reflection and stuffed the necklace down the front of my dress. Only then did I leave the conservatory.

I would hide it.

“My queen!”

I leaped at the shout, a fidgety victim of shame and guilt. It was only Valetise shouting from above.

I blurted, “I go to write a letter explaining an ill-conceived touch!”

She tilted her head. “Okay, my queen. I call down to you to explain that your room has moved.”

Moved.“But moved?”

“Yes, moved. Your room is on the second level now, not the first.”

I blinked. “The second level. I see.”

I did not see yet.

“When did this happen?” I called up.

“One minute and thirteen seconds ago, my queen.”

Perhaps I did see now. The necklace stuffed in my dress felt very heavy and important. There was a certain reek in the air too. “Thank you, I shall be there shortly to write my letter.”

“Just so. The letter explaining an ill-conceived touch. I will ask the wall to surrender your writing desk.”

I leaned against the balustrade to peruse the first-level landing. Back in humanity, I had always cleaned the first level,so when I returned to the snuffed space of Hotel Vitale, I felt most like living here.

Now a princess had fled, dropping her prized and untold black pearl necklace. With my choice to thieve from her, my queenly rooms had moved upward a level… as if my hotel wished to hold me closer to the stars. This was a nod of approval from my queendom. I felt rather enabled. Sometimes this building was right, after all.

Where many doors once led off the first level to various rooms, now a solid wall encrusted with diamonds and gems faced me, extending from one end of the level to the other.

“Are you behind these renovations, Mother? Or do you simply react to the changes in my power?”

I peered down at her grave. She rustled her black hellebores, and I winked.

The necklace was our little secret.

“There is nothing for it. My obsession is under construction, and I am glad, for I have mostly floundered in queendom.” I patted the hidden necklace.

I could only hope that kings would not spot the changes in my queendom. They might understand, and that would hinder me.

I had intended to hurry to my room and pen a pleading letter to Princess Bring, but my hand had drifted from the necklace to the stitch over my breastbone. I toyed with the contemplative stitch and decided to take the hint of the mother who had sewn it. “More reflection is warranted on this change.”

I could think of no better place for this than the laundry room where I had first noticed missing cleaning carts—which had triggered my obsession with snuffing shares.

Though I had planned to sit on the floor among cleaning carts, the room had altered into a small sitting room, warm and intimate, so I curled on an armchair that was rather monstrouslyfaced away from the fireplace. Only then did I remove my copper crown and set the bothersome thing on the table next to me.

“Of monsters of kings,” I murmured, massaging my head and gazing at a blank wall that used to hold shelves filled with sheets and bulk hotel supplies. “Of brides of monster kings.”

Of monster brides.

Of brides, it appeared, I would have dire use and need. Each princess was needed to complete my tutorage of war. Each princess, assumedly, possessed an item that I might find impossible to resist. If I claimed these items, my queendom would grow. Perhaps my power with it.

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