Page 140 of Curse of Darkness
And my mother is such a bitch that while she stole my memories of Thiago, she left those ones imprinted on my soul.
I ease out a steadying breath. Etan can’t hurt me anymore. He can never hurt me again. Not without causing a diplomatic catastrophe. “If anyone greets me as such, then they may find that I am not quite as defenseless as I once was.”
“Queen Maren has extended her protection over this court. There is to be no blood shed in these halls. Or one will face her wrath.”
It’s a good thing I’ve learned to wield the Hallows.
Because if Etan takes a tilt at me, I’m quite happy to dump him at Charun, where I can set him on fire without being called to task for it.
Maren can’t argue with that, can she?
“Who else has arrived?” Thiago asks, offering me his arm. “What was that expression for?” he asks privately.
Shit.
He met Etan many moons ago and knows what happened between us. If he even suspects Etan’s the reason my heart kicked into a gallop, then he may just paint the walls red with his blood. He’s wearing his “charming prince” smile today, but the Darkyn warrior lurks beneath the surface. I can’t risk rousing him.
“I’ll tell you later.” I pat his arm with a smile.
Which he sees right through. “Vi—”
“Lucere of Ravenal arrived an hour ago,” Muraid interrupts—thank all the gods—leading us toward the marble arch that leads into the gardens. Some long-ago sculptor carved dozens of stars into the arch—including one that almost makes me stop in my tracks.
A six-pointed star.
The Dream Thief’s symbol.
The entire court is decorated with such stars, but I’ve never put two and two together.
“We’re still awaiting Kyrian and his retinue,” Muraid snorts. “He likes to make an entrance.”
“Either that,” Thalia offers, “or he’s struggling to get into those tight leather trousers he prefers.”
Muraid almost smiles. “Could take a few more hours then. This way.”
We fall into line behind her.
The Court of Nightmares is an incongruity.
The entire city is carved of alabaster. Every palace hall features a pale white dome, and scrolled columns line the walkways. There are inner gardens and courtyards opening off nearly every room, and peacocks strut through the trees, along with elegant hunting hounds.
It’s the most beautiful court in the south, and yet, even as we wind our way between fountains, I can’t help feeling as though danger watches us through the verdant leaves.
“We’re heading to the Crystal Palace,” I murmur to Thiago, sliding my arm through his. “Maren must mean business.”
Inside the open hall, Queen Maren reclines on her throne, her long raven-dark hair falling in a silken waterfall down her spine. A bustier of gold feathers cups her breasts, and I’m not sure if they’re carved from gold itself, or if some poor hapless firebird gave up its glory for her. The scrap of black silk around her waist could be a skirt, though the slit up her thigh reveals more leg than one would expect. They say she’s the most beautiful woman in the world.
She’s also the most merciless.
It makes my mother seethe when she’s in private. For all my mother’s chiseled blonde beauty, Maren is something else. The cold blue stare of her almond-shaped eyes is practically otherworldly, and the only hint of softness she ever reveals is when she allows Muraid, her lover, to rest her hand on her shoulder.
“His Highness, Prince Thiago of Evernight,” the herald calls, before he clears his throat. “And his queen, Iskvien of… Evernight.”
Maren’s gaze lingers on me as I square my shoulders.
I’m no longer the hapless young woman thrown into a merciless court that threatened to eat me alive.
I’m a queen, and Thalia took great pains to ensure I look like one.
