I realise we’re at the door to the ballroom, Joaquin carrying me. Darkness, what is he thinking? I untangle myself, sliding down his body as he releases me. His hand comes to my cheek.
‘I’ll stay until your coronation.’ His expression is dark, shuttered. ‘Then we can talk.’
ChapterForty-Nine
IT BEGINS
My robes are stiff, heavy with beading.
I used to dread them, when they were on their mannequin in the Costume Room. Run my hands over the white satin, the Raven insignia beaded in silver and black on the high-collared cloak, the corseted waist and full skirt. Wonder how I could ever wear them. Vow that I never would.
Yet here I am.
I chose this, I remind myself, as I put on my Raven necklace, the long silver chain unspooling down my front. The Raven emblem, a black enamel bird with wings outstretched, surrounded by a circle of diamonds, glitters in the half-light. My hair is braided, coiled low against the nape of my neck. My head bare, ready for the crown.
There’s a knock at the door. ‘Emelia? It’s almost time.’
My parents and I are staying in a palace not far from here, an ornate wedding-cake of a building with high railings out front, once home to human royalty. But now I’m sitting in fortified rooms deep below Old London. Waiting to meet my destiny.
I take a deep breath, smoothing the front of my skirt, Michael’s ring on my right hand catching the light as I open the door.
My mother is also in white, silk draped around her slender curves, her long dark hair loose. She looks like a nymph from a painting, all onyx eyes and red lips, her perfect face shimmering in the faint light. Her smile dims slightly when she sees me.
‘What?’ I touch my hair, wondering if I’ve somehow messed it up.
‘Nothing.’ She puts her hands on my arms, pressing a kiss to my brow. ‘It’s just … I’ve dreamed of this day, Emelia, since you were born. And feared it, as well. Wondered if it would even happen.’ She pulls back, a red tinge to her gaze. ‘Pssh.’ She blinks, flapping one slender hand. ‘I cannot cry. The dressmaker would never forgive me if I got blood on my dress.’
I throw my arms around her, emotion welling in my chest. ‘I love you so much,’ I whisper, kissing her smooth cheek. ‘Thank you. For everything. For being my mother. For fighting for me.’
She hugs me close. ‘Now, come,’ she says after a moment, her voice rough. ‘We must go.’ She rubs her thumb across my cheek, catching a stray tear. Then, hand in hand, we leave the room. With every step it’s as though power settles around me. Bells toll, marking my steps as I approach the crypt.
The scandal of my ‘disappearance’ seems to have died down, and all of Old London is festooned with Raven banners, black and silver in the moonlight. My parents and I put out a statement, saying my leaving was a misunderstanding now resolved, then praising Jaguar for their support, talking of old family ties and long histories. And mentioning that, while we’re enjoying Joaquin’s company, I’m far too young to tie myself to anyone at this point. I haven’t seen him since our conversation in the ballroom, but he’ll be at the coronation tonight.
‘You were supposed to be my redemption.’I’m still trying to figure out what he meant, and his tears. Another thing to address once this is over. Apart from not wanting to lose a powerful ally, I’d like to stay friends if nothing else. I definitely don’t want to hurt him anymore. So Michael and I will keep our love under wraps for a while longer. I wish Sophie was here, so I could talk to her about him, but after seeing the Greenwood I can’t be anything but happy for her that she’s found a new life. I miss her, though.
I stop walking. My mother turns, her eyes wide.
‘They’re waiting for you.’
‘Let them wait. I need to tell you something.’
My mother frowns, then nods to the guards escorting us. They keep moving, leaving us in the hallway alone.
‘When Michael and I were away … well. We’re in love. I think he’s the one.’
My mother’s face lights up. ‘Truly?’ She hugs me, squeezing me. ‘Oh! I’m happy for you.’
‘You’re okay with it? We won’t say anything, not until everything is resolved with Joaquin.’
She cups my face in her hands. ‘All your father and I want,’ she says, ‘is for you to be happy. It’s all any parent could want for their child. Your life is your own, Emelia. And it’s time for you to live it.’ She smiles, her eyes lined with red. ‘Come, my gorgeous girl. Let’s claim your crown. The world awaits.’
A short while later I wait behind a set of double doors. They’re ancient, the timber so dark it’s almost black. Ravens are carved into the wood, their wings spread.
My parents flank me, my father’s white silk shirt glowing in the gloom, his jewelled sword-belt slung low, catching faint flickers of light.
‘You know what to do?’ This is my father.
‘I’m ready.’ I grab both their hands, looking first at my father, then my mother. ‘Thanks to you both, I’m ready. And I love you so much.’
