Page 41 of Starchaser
The familiar scent of sea brine causes my breath to catch as Titus pulls out the chair to my right for the princess, and he takes his seat between Leo and the queen, whose atroxis sits primly at her feet, licking one of its six claw-tipped paws. At once, every nerve in my body feels electrified, as if whatever cursed magic inside me comes alive, attempting to sense Morana’s presence in the smiling, beautiful girl seated beside me.
Leo studies me out of the corner of her eye, her expression unreadable as she leans in, whispering, “I surrender.”
My heart skips a beat, my stomach clenching. I try to catch Will’s eye, but he’s too preoccupied with his new companions to notice the sheen of sweat that slicks my brow. It couldn’t be this easy, could it? Does Morana know I’ve come for her, and rather than hide, she’s decided to toy with me by exposing herself??
“Pardon me?” I manage to say, desperate to conceal the panic in my voice.
The hint of a smirk graces the princess’s lips, and she cuts a glance at the spiked armor covering my shoulders. “If I had known it wasthatkind of dinner, I would have brought a few more weapons myself.”
It takes me a second too long to realize she’s teasing me, but then she laughs, sticking out her hand for me to shake.
“I’m Leo,” she says, her eyes bright, hopeful. “I was delighted when Titus arranged for us to sit beside each other. I’ve heard so much about you.”
I take her hand, expecting to feel something—anything—to indicate she’s possessed by the Sylk queen, except I feel nothing but her smooth skin in my grasp. An odd mixture of relief, guilt, and anxiety wrestles for dominance in my gut. Could it be that the princess isn’t possessed after all? Or is it that Morana is too powerful—her magic too strong—for me to properly detect? What if, since Owen attacked me on Reckoning Day, something has changed within me and my curse will no longer allow me to see Sylks? What if I never truly had any power to begin with, and I only saw the Sylks because theywantedme to see them?
Over her shoulder, Titus chances a look in our direction, his furrowed brow the only crack in his otherwise taciturn face. Leo’s eyes narrow, and it feels as if she might withdraw her hand,turning slightly to glance behind her, but I tighten my grip, forcing a smile to hold her attention a moment longer—to give myself a final opportunity to sense the presence of a Sylk.
I say, with as much charm as I can muster, “Nothing good, I hope.”
Her eyes twinkle mischievously. “Oh, dreadful, terrible things.” She places her free hand over her heart, her expression one of mock seriousness. “The rumors don’t do you justice.”
“Rumors?” I don’t mean to, but I let go of her hand, my heartbeat kicking into a gallop. I think of the day on the train when Winona Congreve saw Titus and me alone in that compartment. Did she tell someone? How can I expect to befriend Leo—to spend enough time with her to sense the ancient, evil presence Titus claims he felt when he was near her—if she suspects there’s something between her fiancé and me?
“Why, of course!” Leo whispers, a conspiratorial grin setting her face alight. “Aster Oberon, the fearsome pirate. You’ve become quite the hero throughout the Eerie. I believe that by the time word reaches Hellion, you’ll have become a legend.”
My eyes dart to the king and queen, worried they might have somehow heard our conversation over the deafening chatter of the nobility, but they appear rapt with interest as Will entertains them with a story from his time on the front lines.
“I’m flattered,” I say, wiping my palms on my gown. “But I’m afraid I’m much less terrifying than the stories portray me to be.”
Leo’s eyes crinkle with a smirk. “I highly doubt that.”
I mean to say something else, to try to keep her talking, as if I could detect Morana’s presence with a simple misspoken word, but the sharp tinkling of glass rings out, and our conversation abruptly ends as the king stands at the head of the table.
“I’m pleased you all could join us,” the king says, his voice carrying over the dining table, bringing every conversation to a halt. “Never in the history of my reign as king has there been more to celebrate in one single evening—or one season, for that matter.” He lifts his glass, red wine sloshing over the side. “When my son first proposed to the princess of Hellion, he mentioned that he wanted to be married on Holy Winter’s Day. Of course, I told him—I said, ‘My dear boy, you do realize your wedding celebration will last nearly an entire week—the same week that the Holy Winter’s Festival will take place?’ And he said to me—”
“I told him that I was well aware,” Titus drawls, “and that I expect to receive twice the gifts.”
Everyone at the dinner table erupts with laughter, and I wonder if I’m perhaps the only person in the room who can see the hatred in Titus’s smile as he takes a sip of his wine.
“Yes, yes, of course,” the king says with a wink. “I considered saying no—telling him to wait until after the festival—but my wife—”
“When else will you have the opportunity to host your son’s wedding festivities during the same week of Holy Winter?” Queen Calantha speaks up, placing a hand on Titus’s arm.
I tell myself I imagine the way Titus tenses—the way his jaw twitches—at his mother’s touch, because he smiles at her like an adoring son.
Calantha returns his smile, continuing, “Just think of the parties—”
“‘Yes, think of the parties, Calix,’” the king finishes, mocking his wife’s voice with a playful lilt. “Calantha adores parties.”
“Who doesn’t?” The queen raises her glass, toasting to Will.“After all, I happen to be seated across from the kingdom’s favorite party guest.”
Will lifts his glass in response, and the women on either side of him coo like doves, batting their eyelashes in such a feverish manner I hope they might simply fly away. “It is my honor to attend such fine parties, Your Grace,” Will replies, his charming grin seeming to enchant the entire court.
“You make us proud, William,” the king says, bowing his head just slightly. “Lord Bludgrave, Lady Isabelle,” he adds, addressing Will’s parents, “you’ve done a fine job with this one. We’re positively thrilled you’ve chosen to stay with us during this time of celebration.”
“We’re most grateful,” Lord Bludgrave says, lifting his glass. “To the king and queen!”
The nobility chime in, “To the king and queen!”
