Page 155 of Witchlight
SEVENTY-FIVE
It was amazing to Vivia Nihar, Queen of Nubrevna, how little had changed in Dalmotti since she’d last come here. Hye, there were no naval vessels blocking the bay, and now it was the Doge scraping and bowing toherinstead of the other way around…
Still, the city itself—with its waterways and sticky sea breeze, with its gardens and color and quavering, voice-filled life—none of that had changed.Great Collapse?this city seemed to ask.What collapse?Only the guilds and their members had felt the pain of what had come, and only the witches in the military. But it had been brief. Mere hours of agony and emptiness before a return to normal.
None of the buildings, none of the alleys or thoroughfares or canals had suffered. No Wells had collapsed and unleashed agony. And now, weeks later, it was almost as if the Great Collapse had never happened.
Certainly inside this ballroom, it had not.
And certainly to the Doge blinking his watery eyes before Vivia, it had not. “Your Majesty,” he said with an obsequiousness that was as fake as the new white wig upon his head. “It is good to have you finally reach our fair city. Your brother arrived this morning.”
Vivia already knew this, although she’d yet to see Merik. And if she was being honest, she didn’t much want to see him. There was only one person she’d come to this blighted ball for, and at the moment, neither she nor her Adders were anywhere in sight.
So Vivia let her face settle into a smile. Just aslighttip of her upper lip. Just a dash of vacant boredom in her eyes. “If only you had welcomed me so graciously last time, Doge.” She let her smile spread until teeth showed. “Perhaps I wouldn’t have felt the need to obliterate half your navy.”
With nothing more than a curt nod, Vivia stalked away. The palace ballroom awaited, with its wall of glass, reflected chandelier light, and people from all across the Witchlands, twirling and shimmering like fish in the reefs off Nihar.
Three doors were cast open, each with paths leading into shadow. Vivia sensed the sea that way. Tides and ripples and salted water that no longer threatened to engulf her or drag her down.
It was strange, though, because while her magic had returned, it hadn’t felt the same. In some ways, it was steadier. Like a loyal hound always at the ready… but also weaker, as if the hound had gone lame in one paw.
Vivia knew she wasn’t the only one who felt this. Her favorite captain—don’t think of Stix, don’t think of Stix—who now walked mere paces behind in her own dress uniform had said as much only yesterday.These tides,Shanna Quintay had mumbled as she and Vivia had thrust the first currents against their ship,are as familiar as they are strange.
Vivia slowed her gait as hundreds of eyes swiveled onto her. She felt Shanna and the three vizers who’d accompanied her stiffen. It took all of Vivia’s self-control not to do the same. Nor to check her collar, fix her cuffs. She was here, and she had every plan to keep moving until she found…
There. Her eyes lit on a row of black-uniformed Adders, their faces hidden and their eyes glittering. At their heart was Vaness. She spoke with an expression of utter calm to a woman who, from this distance, looked Cartorran. Or possibly Lusquan. Or maybe even Svodish. Vivia wasn’t familiar with the intricacies of high fashion in the west.
The closest of the Adders leaned toward his empress. Rokesh was the man’s name, and Vivia liked him. Not merely because he would die to protect Vaness, nor merely because he had remained loyal to Vaness during her brief deposal…
Vivia liked the Adder High because he was one of the few people in all the world that the Empress fully listened to and fully trusted. That, Vivia knew, was a quality that would matter in whatever future lay ahead.
For both VanessandVivia, if Vivia’s plans came to fruition tonight.
At the words of Rokesh, Vaness snapped her eyes away from her conversation partner. She found Vivia, and instantly, her face transformed. Not perhaps in any way that someone else would notice, but Vivia saw it: a relaxing of her brow. A softening of her shoulders.
And then a twinkling dance of iron beads across the bodice of her blood-red gown. Gone were the shackles at her wrist, but then they had been gone for quite some time now.
With no ceremony at all, Vivia marched right up to the Empress. Then she cut a sharp bow, deep and respectful—and in the style of the Marstoks.To the evident surprise of all who watched, Vaness also sank into a bow of her own. Fist over heart, head dipped low.
When they both rose, the conversation partner from some unimportant place in the west was gone. And all of Vivia’s guests had conveniently dissolved into the ocean of dancers and minglers nearby. The Adders too, had scooted respectfully away.
“Walk with me,” Vaness said. She motioned toward the nearest door. “I want to speak without eyes upon us.”
Ah,Vivia thought, her throat tightening.Me too. She offered the Empress her arm, and Vaness took it with a tiny, almost private smile. Then together, the two monarchs strolled with regal ease toward the door.
It was all a show, of course, but Vivia was pleased at how well they both performed it. Vaness had lost her empire, only to get it back and find some of the changes made had been good ones. That in fact, General Fashayid had uncovered all sorts of cracks in her imperial foundations that needed fixing.
Vivia, meanwhile, was the newly crowned Queen of Nubrevna—but all here knew it was only because her father had died in the Great Collapse. None were certain she had earned the sliver of a golden crown she wore atop her head.
Together, the queen and Empress left the tiles of the ballroom. Twilit air washed over them. The rhythm of the tides pulsed louder in Vivia’s veins. Louder, louder as they ambled—with Adders never far behind—down a winding path surrounded by roses and oleander.
“It looks just as I recall it,” the Empress murmured. “As does the Doge. Slimy, disgusting man.”
Vivia smirked. “I thought the same.”
“Of course you did. Here, let’s stop at that bench and catch our breaths.”
Hye,Vivia thought, even though they’d scarcely exerted themselves. Still Vivia was finding the deeper into these gardens they wefted—and the more distant the music and voices became—the harder it was for her lungs to function. She checked repeatedly that all of her buttons were done up. She smoothed her hair every second turn, and she removed… thenreturnedher crown thrice.
