Page 26 of Of Song and Scepter
“Chaperoned, of course,” he adds. “I wouldn’t dare part you from the attention of your handmaiden, Your Highness.”
Odissa nods. “We’d be delighted to join you.”
“It’s settled then,” the queen says. She claps her hands, and another round of servants hurry into the room, carrying plates of yellow cake.
I sway on my feet as my hunger rattles once again. With two careful fingers, I steady myself against the back of Odissa’s chair.
“Do you sing, sweet girl?” the queen says, brandishing her fork and scooping a bite of cake into her mouth. “I’m exceedingly curious how the Voice works for you. Each siren’s magic is different, but I’ve heard you have different flavors in the Abyss. It’s different than ours, no?”
Odissa smooths the fabric of her skirts, then lifts her face to meet the queen’s assessing gaze. “I’m quite tired from my journey, Your Majesty. I’ll admit I’m not at my best this evening.”
The queen’s eyes narrow. “I see,” she says. “Of course.”
Dread twists my gut. Odissa must not fail to impress the queen tonight. This whole ruse rests on her ability to woo the entire court, not just the prince. And blind as he may be to her shortcomings, the queen is astute.
Odissa’s hand slips from her lap, twisting around the back of her chair. She curls her finger toward me.
“I suppose I could sing a little something for you, Your Majesty,” she says.
I inhale, steadying my nerves. With the threads of my energy, I tap into the warmth in my belly. My magic purrs, coiling around my consciousness, and I coax it into obedience, focusing myintent. We need something small, but meaningful. Something to soothe the queen without draining me to the floor.
I twine my fingers with Odissa’s, our grasp curling together where the queen cannot see. I squeeze her hand, and Odissa lifts her other hand to the table, a ready conduit.
My tune is soft and sweet, my lips firmly closed as Odissa parts hers. The purple lightning sparks from Odissa’s fingers, surging into the air in a display of light. My energy drains quickly. My hunger echoes against the hollow reaches of my stomach. With a final flourish, the sparks fall to the table, dispelling on impact, and I cut the spell. I release my grip on Odissa’s fingers, and she flattens her palm to the table.
The queen nods. “A little light show. How fascinating,” she says.
Odissa dips her head, the side of her cheeks tugging up into a smile.
The prince watches her with a mirroring smile. “Thank you. That was beautiful.”
I waver on my feet, vision darkening. If we don’t leave this room soon, I might pass out on the floor. My finger finds a curl of Odissa’s hair, and I tug hard.
“The night is getting late,” she says, stiffening in her seat. “And I am exhausted from my travels. I wish to retire.”
“Of course,” says the prince. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, for our sunrise.”
We exit the room in a painfully slow procession. Odissa curtsies, waves, dawdles across the room, until finally we pass through the gilded doorway and into the hall.
When the door shuts, I lean heavily against it, panting. Odissa studies my face from a careful distance. She tugs at the string of beads around her neck, as if it’s too tight. “Thank you,” she manages, voice strained with the effort of her small kindness.
“You can thank me with a hearty dinner.”
Chapter sixteen
Enna
“Well, they haven’t killedme yet,” Odissa says, draping herself over the plush pink bed to hang her head off one end. A pile of discarded hairpins scatter across the marble floor beneath her long, silver tresses. She points to the ceiling and smiles. “Do you think someone painted that by hand?”
The mural in question is as elaborate and colorful as the rest of the room, but half as interesting as the plate of roasted wrigglefish in my lap. I stuff two of them into my mouth at once, groaning as the burned, smokey flavor rushes over my tongue.
“Why the fuck do they bother cooking it?” I say around the dry flesh. It’s not raw, but it’ll have to do. I close my eyes and lean my head against the window, stretching my legs out across the open sill. The fish bones crunch between my teeth with a satisfying snap. After a few more chews, the roasted meat is not as blandas I thought it would be, its flavor finally coaxed out of hiding. The chef seasoned it with some sort of dried seaweed, and the saltiness hits just right. I slide the fish around my mouth, coating each of my taste buds before swallowing.
“You’re disgusting,” Odissa says, wrinkling her perfect, borrowed nose.
“Nobody’s watching but you.”
She sniffs. “I’m a princess.”
