Elena looked between the two of them—her father and her fiancé, her past and her future—and she suddenly ached for Ferma with an intensity that took her breath. She wished the Yumi was here now, holding her hand, escorting her into the ballroom with her hair prickling behind them. It felt wrong to enter this next stage of life without her.
The sarangi sounded, indicating their entrance. She took a shaky breath.I’m sorry, Ferma, she thought. Then she mustered a smile and took Samson’s hand. “The world will be watching us now. Let’s give them a show.”
Leo led the way as they climbed the stairs, coming to the edge of the landing overlooking the ballroom. Samson squeezed her hand. Through the doors, she heard the muffled voice of the announcer.
“All bow to the Phoenix King, Guardian of Fire, Son of Alabore, the Divine Grace of Desert and Sky, His Majesty, Leo Malhari Ravence.”
The doors swung open, revealing the grand hall. Long curtains of roses cascaded down the gold shimmering walls, and their fragrance filled the ballroom with the scent of promise. Delicate chandeliers floated along the ceilings, and tipsy guests danced under their twinkling light, crushing fallen petals as they spun. Servants dressed in crisp white coats with gold lotuses on their lapels served glasses full of honeyed wine and spiced whiskey. Along the far wall of the ballroom, hungry guests milled over tables filled with roast lamb, seared ham garnished with candied pomegranates, and platters full of desert sweets.
A hush fell as the king stepped onto the landing—and then came a thunderous wave of applause, the crowd raising their glasses. Despite the attacks, despite the sorrow they shared, Leo stood tall. Elena admired him for it. He would never show weakness to these people.
Leo raised his hand, and the applause died down.
“Friends,” he said, his voice filling the space of the large ballroom. “Thank you for coming. Together, we herald a new age of Ravence, a new dawn brought by a queen of sand and fire. So please, raise your glasses for the blood of Alabore, the Twenty-First Ruler of Fire, my daughter, Elena Aadya Ravence.”
Elena stepped forward into the gaze of the hundreds gathered below. She heard them gasp, clap, and shout out toasts as she stood smiling, beaming, hoping they did not see the broken woman beneath.
She raised her hand, beckoning, and Samson drew up beside her.
“My future king,” she said simply as Samson looped his arm around her waist.
The lords from Teranghar were the first to approach as she descended the marble staircase. They bowed low and kissed her hand. Next came the ambassador from Cyleon, who presented her with moonspun flowers that blossomed at her touch. The princess of Nbru dipped her head and smiled coquettishly at both of them. Wherever they went, people crowded around them. They laughed, doling out praises and well wishes that did not match the calculation in their eyes.
Their words are sweet now, but how long until they sour?Elena thought. She caught the ambassador of Karven glance her way, saw the tension in Queen Risha of Tsuana’s posture. They all knew about the Jantari threat yet skirted around the issue. She wondered how many secretly supported Farin, how many would turn a blind eye if Jantar invaded?
“Your Highness.”
Elena turned, distracted. “Yes?”
“I was just saying,” King Bormani drawled, “how I hoped Ravence would open its northern borders for more Verani trade.”
Leo shared a glance with her as the king rambled on. Veran was a small kingdom with a disorganized army. If they did increase trade with Veran, how useful would their army be against Jantar?
“In due time, Bormani,” her father cut in, finally ending the man’s long speech. Leo smiled and gripped his shoulder. “Let the young ones dance now. Eh?”
Elena smiled, mouthingthank youto her father, but before she could turn for the ballroom floor, she felt Samson stiffen beside her. She turned, looking up at him, and followed his gaze. There, walking toward them, was King Farin of Jantar.
“Leo,” Farin said. His voice was a wispy rattle as air pushed through the metalwork of his neck. He was not a tall man, yet he was square in the shoulders with a large block of a forehead. He was dressed in Jantari blue—a deep, vivid color that mirrored the mountains of Jantar’s eastern borders—and wore the silver emblem of a winged ox on his chest. His green metallic eye swiveled across the room, taking in the floating chandeliers, as the pale, colorless one set its gaze on Elena. “Charming place.”
Elena noticed how others glanced their way, how the kings and queens pretended to drink their wine but listened as they passed.
“Farin,” Leo said, not bothering to hide the distaste in his voice. “You’ve lost some weight. Hopefully your diet isn’t too strict.”
“Nonsense. What are pounds if not the result of delight, hmm?” Farin said and looked at Samson. “This chap and I have often challenged each other in drinking games, and I swear he lets me win.”
Samson recovered and waved over a servant carrying a tray of drinks. “Not tonight, Farin. I’m going to drink you into the ground.”
Farin laughed, a dry, grinding sound. “Only if Her Highness drinks with me.”
Farin’s ancestor, Queen Rhea, was the first to start the tradition of melding flesh with metal. She sacrificed half of her body to boast of Jantar’s superior metalsmiths, had ordered the royal engineers to build a body more capable than flesh. And with each generation the gears became more advanced. The tradition belonged only to the royal family, luckily, or else Elena would have had to deal with a half-metal army along her borders. She supposed she shouldn’t be too appalled by Farin. The Ravani sacrificed to fire; the Jantari, to steel. Different gods, but with the same vein of fanaticism.
Elena plastered on a smile as she took a glass and handed it to Farin. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Queen Risha angle their way.
The other kingdoms are growing wary of Farin’s antics, Leo had told her once.Even Tsuana has asked Farin to not prohibit the passage of refugees.
“Let us drink to our new friendship,” she said. “Oh, Queen Risha. There you are.”
Farin paused mid-drink, but he finished his wine with calculated ease.
