Page 150 of Crown of Darkness
“No.” I lead him into the dark. “We would have been competition. Tonight is her night, and she likes to revel in the unabashed attention of her entire court.”
The wall swings shut behind us, plunging us into absolute blackness.
“Is it safe to summon a faelight?”
I spin one into being, and it comes to life easier than I can ever recall. Layer by layer, my mother’s curse work is slowly being undone, and a little part of me thrills at how easy my fae magic is becoming to wield.
Silvery blue light cascades over the tunnel.
“Quiet,” I tell him as we hurry through the darkness. “This leads directly to the royal wing. Nobody knows it’s here, but the guards have wolfhounds that guard the bailey, and if they hear us…."
I don’t need to add more.
It’s a long way through a series of interlocking passages. From a glimpse of the unstirred dust on the floor, nobody’s come this way in years.
Maybe Andraste stopped sneaking out after I married Thiago.
Finally, we’re deep in the heart of the royal apartments. I pause beside a panel in the wall and plunge us into darkness again. “My mother’s chambers lie on the other side.”
“Of all the places I would prefer never to see the inside of.” He nods, and I slowly, slowly ease the panel open.
The room is empty.
The curtains are thrown open, moonlight spilling across the room. My heart hammers as I place my first foot on the floor and pause, expecting blazing wards to ignite and alarms to scream.
There is nothing.
Exhaling hard, I slip into the room, and Thiago follows me like a thief in the night.
His gaze rakes over the sumptuous furnishings and elegant silks. From the sudden arch of his brow, I can tell it’s not what he expected.
The wall is papered in a forest print, with little creatures peeking from behind the trees. The ceiling is a night sky, with dozens of sparkling little stars pulsating light. And the bed is scrolled gold, curling up into an enormous canopy, from which hangs delicate white silk.
“This way,” I tell him, crossing to the door at the furthest end of the room.
A tower adjoins my mother’s chambers, and it’s here where her most precious items are kept. There’s a viewing platform at the top where she sometimes stares at the stars, but the room below it is locked and warded with the most dangerous spells she can summon. Only someone who shares her blood can enter that little treasury.
She used to invite me in there when I was a child, to view all her magical objects and curios. I would play with her necklaces and jewels, and she’d smile and drape one of her tiaras on my head.
I don’t know where it all went wrong.
Slipping up the stairs, I nearly leap out of my skin when a riot of noise echoes through the night. Fireworks. They shatter in the night sky, casting a burst of light over our passage before plunging us into the shadows again.
The crown is always kept at the top of the tower.
I place my palm against the solid gold door, every inch of me shaking. “Know my blood,” I whisper. “Let me in.”
Heat wells against my skin, but it doesn’t burn. It merely tastes me.
And then the door swings open.
She hasn’t changed the wards. A tremble runs through me. I wasn’t sure.
The treasury is just as I remember it. A dozen nooks are carved into the stone walls, and within each one rests a golden head. They have no faces, only slight indentations where the eyes and mouths should be, and I’ve always wondered if my mother knows how creepy they look. Sitting atop them is her collection of crowns and tiaras.
But it’s the deepest nook at the far corner of the room that captures my attention.
I’ve never touched it.
