Page 111 of Crown of Darkness
I’ve been locked away for days. “Please.”
He tugs a mask from within his shirt. “Then you’ll need to wear this.”
* * *
Masked dancers fill the streets.
I’ve never seen anything like it. The people of Hawthorne Castle don’t celebrate like this, as though they’re sharing our joy.
“Come on!” Thalia cries, dragging me through the gates of the castle and into the throng. The entire court was gathered in the keep’s bailey, and Eris even threw a handful of mistletoe over the top of me.
Silver paint highlights Thalia’s cheeks, and her silver gown is cut low enough that men glance past her, glance back, and then stagger into buildings or market stalls. The sleek fabric clings to every curve, and cut-out panels reveal her narrow waist. There’s a tiny diadem on her brow.
“You look amazing,” I say.
She rakes her gaze down my gown with a critical eye. “What in Maia’s name areyouwearing?”
“You were the one who’s had a hand in every aspect of my wardrobe, so you can only blame yourself.” I finger the lilac silk. “And I like it.”
“That’s not the point!” she says in exasperation. “Thiago didn’t show youthedress. I had it made just for tonight! It’s black and gold, and the cape is so amazing I might stop breathing! You were supposed to look like a queen!”
“I don’t care, Thalia.” I squeeze her hands. “These boots are perfect for dancing in. And tonight’s not about me. Tonight is about the future. About Evernight.”
She sniffs. “Tonightisabout you. Evernight hasn’t had a queen in over five hundred years.”
“Thalia.” I growl. “I’ll be fine.”
“I even managed to get Eris into a dress.”
“You did?” All I’d glimpsed as Eris decorated me was an enormous velvet cloak that covered her from head to toe.
As if summoned, Eris stalks forward. “She did.”
“E!” Thalia grabs Eris’s hands, and the black cloak that Eris wear slips from her shoulders. “Show her!”
Finn catches it just before it hits the ground, and then Eris whirls in circles with Thalia, rolling her eyes with a roughened laugh.
She’s not wearing leathers.
Nor is she wearing the type of dress she wore at Ravenal for court appearances—polished silver chainmail. No, this is adress, and yet it suits Eris perfectly; a mix of femininity and dangerous smoky allure. A dress fit for a warrior queen.
It’s like a corset comprised of black lace, though the panels that circle her waist are sheer. Little gold stars are embroidered all over it, and a golden rope knots around her waist and loops up around her throat. From midthigh down, her skirts are sheer, with a thousand more little stars, and they wisp around her ankles like the froth of the sea.
Gold-hilted knives are sheathed on her forearms, and a gold mask hides her eyes.
But there’s no hiding the look on Finn’s face as he stares at her as if she just punched him in the throat. Or lower.
Gold tattoos highlight Eris’s dark skin, and they cover her entire décolletage and shoulders. Whimsical, featherlight designs that speak of an ancient culture I don’t recognize. She’s such utter perfection that I know Thalia’s had her hand all over this.
I reach up and close Finn’s mouth with a finger to his jaw.
He shoots me a dark look, then his hand crushes her velvet cloak into a wad and he shoves it at my chest. “I need a drink.”
Then he’s gone, stalking into the crowd.
“Dance with us, Baylor!” Thalia snags his arm.
Baylor scrubs at his mouth, his long silver hair tangling down his back. “I need a drink too,” he growls under his breath, and then he vanishes in Finn’s direction.
