Page 19 of Curse of Darkness
“Queen?” The last time I saw Lucere, she was crown princess, fighting for her right to be crowned queen in the wake of her grandmother’s death.
“Matters have changed in Ravenal.”
But not within the Queen of Ravenal’s heart. Lucere hates me for “stealing” Thiago from her all those years ago.
And to arrive like this is a bloody insult.
“What does she want?”
“For the first time in my life, I have to admit I don’t know, Vi.” Every inch of her hates making this statement. “She also insists the two of you are to be alone for the meeting. She’s being obnoxiously insistent.”
Alone?
Lucere’s no friend of mine, but I doubt she’d have some intention to attack me. This is my kingdom, my home. And I am bound to the lands here, which gives me the edge in terms of power. If she tries to hurt me, then I could skewer her with my thorns.
As if they sense I’m thinking of them, I feel those brambles whispering as they rustle within the walls of the castle. They started winding their way through the stones six days ago. So far I’ve been holding them at bay—I don’t even know how I conjured them—but they’re there.
Little suckers attaching themselves to walls. Dormant. Waiting. Whispering.
Whispering like that fucking crown in my dreams….
I curl my fingers into a fist, the sting of my fingernails digging into my palms. I know it bothers the others to see them—thorns are my mother’s favorite weapon, after all, and I can’t help thinking that she was the last person who wore the Crown of Shadows.
Were the thorns her weapon of choice?
Or is it something that comes with the crown?
Or something to do with my own growing power?
I don’t know.
I don’t fuckingknow.
“Send wine and food,” I whisper. “I’ll meet her there.”
Ravenal is the knife at my throat—Lucere refused to join with us against my mother, but to my knowledge she hasn’t yet sided with Asturia. She intended to remain neutral in the coming conflict, and I need to ensure she stays that way.
But as Thalia bows her head and turns for the door, I can’t help wondering…
Why would Lucere want to talk to me alone?
5
Islip inside the audience chambers, taking a moment to examine Queen Lucere. Raven-black hair is wound into a flawless knot atop her head and surrounded by a small jeweled gold crown. Her back remains stiff as she examines a painting of Roswen, a former queen of Evernight, and her gown is a scarlet brocade cut in clean lines, with elegant form. It’s considerably more formal than the sheath of dark violet that Thalia forced me into this morning.
She’s lovely.
Hair black as a raven’s wing; lips red as blood; skin pale as snow; and her heart as merciless as her smile….
I can’t help hearing Nanny Redwyne’s voice in my head, an echo of a story she told me a thousand times as a child.
“I hear my condolences are in order,” Lucere says, never taking her eyes off the portrait. Her head slowly bows as if she’s considering something, and then she turns, and I cannot help squaring my shoulders.
“Thank you.” Somehow my voice remains smooth. “It’s a long way to come to send your condolences. I don’t know whether to be thankful for the kindness—or whether I ought to be on guard.”
She circles the enormous round table in the center of the room, her dark eyes gliding over every feature. Including the thorns circling several chair legs. “One would be a fool indeed, to attack a queen in her own lands.”
“And yet”—there’s a hint of acid in my voice—“that’s precisely what you claimed of me, when we visited Ravenal. What do you want?”
