She knew what was now expected of her, and it was one more thing on a long list of worries that sickened her.
As he raised his hands, Kalie shifted her gaze back to Mother. The windows behind her showed Azura’s wedding to Avtal and their granddaughter Calla’s coronation. With the throng of courtiers around her, Mother’s honeyed smiles, and the crown of rubies glinting atop her pale hair, Mother looked like a queen holding court. A rival court.
“While I was missing, my mother was poisoning the court against me, wasn’t she?”
“Not against you, per se, but…” Haeden scratched the back of his neck. “She’d won over half the court for Selene by the end of the first day.”
“Great,” Kalie muttered. “Just great.”
It was fitting that Mother stood between those two windows. The designers had left out the betrayal between the two scenes, when Azura’s son Zagan murdered her mortal form. The goddess had banished him to the depths of hell, where the devil still reigned.
Betrayal had always run in the family blood.
“Look on the bright side. If things go to hell and Selene steals your crown, you could still challenge her to Fallé di Azura.”
Kalie glared at him. “That’s not funny.”
Haeden laughed and flapped a hand. “It’ll never come to that, but from a historical standpoint, it’d be fascinating. There hasn’t been a challenge in seven centuries, you know.”
“For good reason! For Azura’s sake, it’s a duel to the death!” A dark sense of foreboding crawled up Kalie’s spine. “Where would I even find someone to be my champion?”
“I can duel.” Haeden’s lazy grin eased her tense posture.
What he was suggesting was terrifying, but utterly ridiculous. He was just trying to lighten the mood, so she set her worries aside and snorted. “I seem to remember Julian trouncing you on a daily basis.”
“Ah, well, I don’t think you have to worry about him fighting for her. He’ll love you until the day he…” Haeden trailed off as he stared at something over her shoulder. “Or maybe I was wrong.”
She followed his gaze, and her blood raged.
Selene batted her eyelashes at Julian, trailing her hand up and down his muscular arm. As she twirled a lock of her hair between her fingers, light snagged on her gaudy rings. Julian was grinning.
Kalie’s teeth clenched. “I can’t believe he’d stoop that low.”
“Oh, I know what he’s doing. Don’t worry, he’s not flirting with her.”
Julian brushed his thumb over Selene’s hand, and Kalie shot Haeden a disbelieving look.
“I’m watching him do it.”
“Well, he is, but he isn’t.” Whistling a tune, Haeden strolled away.
Kalie slumped against the railing. The rushing waterfalls and splashing fountains soothed the fire raging in her chest.
As one, the orchestra lifted a tune to a high note, let it fall, then raised it to a maddening crescendo. All across the floor, young couples twirled and older ones swayed. She could see it as a painting—a flurry of vibrant colors dancing across the backdrop of vibrant glass and foamy falls, a picture of love, and she, the lone observer, desperately trying to hide from it all.
For a while,Kalie drifted. Twenty cycles in this court had left her with the ability to run on autopilot, so despite the never-ending stream of nobles demanding her attention, she was hardly conscious of saying anything at all. A stammering churchman was the latest courtier. He referred to her asYour HighnessandHeredem; in accordance with tradition, the Church wouldn’t recognize her as the Duchissa until after her coronation.
As he rambled, she squinted at two men in a dark corner. The pale-haired man in the shadows, Count Perseus Hewlett, was the only man on Dali whose power rivaled Uncle Jerran’s.
“—so the Church humbly asks for an increase in revenues, Your Highness?—”
“Excuse me for a moment,” Kalie said, sidestepping the priest.
It was hard not to pick up on body language after countless cycles of dinners, ceremonies, and receptions—and the way Hewlett carried himself was predatory.
Uncle Jerran had repeatedly warned Aunt Calida that Hewlett was growing too powerful. She’d never listened.
Kalie ducked into a circle of tittering court ladies and wove through the crowd, trying to get lost in the swarm of bodies. The courtiers waiting for her attention had vanished. She slid into the shadows behind a pillar, a few steps from Hewlett. His young companion’s face was red and taut, and his eyes flashed with the rage of a thousand fires.
