Page 154 of Of Stars and Lightning
What if he was taken again? What if a Jinn— He is a trained soldier, Sol. Grow up.
She clenched her hands into fists, annoyed at herself, at the cocktail of emotions that brewed in the background, tainting her with its future problems.
“Looking for someone, Princess?” The gentle nuzzle of cool mist tapped at her bare back, the dress Alix had chosen leaving her birthmark exposed. A sigh of unfiltered relief loosened her chest as she glanced over her shoulder. She studied his raven-black hair, combed back into a messy knot with a leather band. Although still bruised, his face seemed calmer, more relaxed now that everything was over.
When she glanced up to meet his gaze, he was already watching her.
Sol smiled. “Not anymore.”
Forty Nine
SECRETS FOR THE WIND
THANKFULLY,THERE WEREN’Tmany spectators. Sol had expected a courtyard full of nobles, adding to the nausea she felt as she descended the castle steps. But when she finally looked up to examine what awaited, it was pleasantly empty.
To the right, situated over rows of simple rosewood chairs, was the Stone Ledge Nobility. Cattya’s mother—obvious by their identical scowl and blue eyes—glared at her as she passed. Another woman sat beside her, clad in a scarlet gown and a silken curtain of straight black hair. She did not meet Sol’s gaze.
Behind the Stone Ledge nobility, the Ladies of Niome greeted her with kind smiles, melting some of the icy atmosphere. The women emitted a calming, collective aura Sol appreciated as she continued cataloging the guests.
On the left side, also sitting on a pair of chairs, was a couple Sol didn’t recognize. They were elegant, but not in the obnoxious manner the other Southerners exuded. The woman wore a casual coat and trousers, her plump figure mirroring that of her partner beside her. They watched Sol and her Court silently as they made their way down the bare middle of the yard. With the way the chairs flanked them, Sol felt like she was walking down an aisle.
Sawyer seemed to feel similarly, as she whispered, “Never thought I’d be walking down an aisle with my father at the end of it.”
Indeed, King Semmena and his Court stood beneath the coverof a massive, full tree, its leaves dancing to the ground with the wind.
Samara, Gina, and Gaven stood silently behind their King Regent, Jeriyah seemingly absent from the meeting. Besides a row of kingsmen posted by the gate a few ways away, that was it.
The Yarrow Court, the Semmena Court, and a couple of nobles who seemed ready to hang Sol by her throat.
She supposed it could have been worse.
“I’ll admit, the unpredictability of your Vows made them quite entertaining, Niece.” Semmena wore a thick, fur-lined cloak over his white tunic, his crown solid atop his head as he watched their every move, up until Sol and her Court was also beneath the shade of the tree.
As Alix came to a low bow in front of him, the rest of her Court dispersed to the sideline.
“Majesty,” Alix said. “You must excuse me–High Scribe Jeriyah has requested me in the libraries.”
Semmena waved him away. “Go on, Bennet.”
Feeling incredibly vulnerable, Sol messed with her fingernails as she clasped her hands behind her back. To the King, she held her chest high—to everyone behind her, she showed her nerves.
And that’s how it would have to be for now.
She donned the calmest mask she could muster and smiled. “I like the new gardens.”
Semmena eyed the gardens behind them, full of lilies and roses that bled their sweet fragrance into the air.
“Your Royal Hand planted them,” said Samara, tossing her twin braids over her shoulders. She looked over to Nina, who stood off to Sol’s left. “I would have much preferred tulips.”
Sol glanced sidelong at Nina, who didn't so much as falter in her carefully crafted stoicism. “Fortunately, they weren’t planted for you, Lady Samara,” Nina said. A subtle shine glinted in her green eyes. “But I will keep your preferences dutifully in mind.”
Samara’s jaw twitched with annoyance as she cut her gaze back to Sol.
“Casimir, step forward.” Arnold Semmena rolled his eyes,utterly uninterested in anything anyone else had to say other than himself.
Cas obeyed, albeit hesitantly. He separated from Nina’s side, Sawyer furrowing her brows after him as he stepped beside Sol. They locked eyes for a moment, sharing the confusion.
“Here is the thing,” the King continued, pacing along the base of the tree. “There was meant to be only one survivor. One plea granted.” He looked between them both, toying with his Wielder ring. “Sol, if you were the sole survivor, the tradition of the Vows would be expunged. Casimir, during the final duel, I promised you pardon if you were the survivor instead.”
