Before I could ask a follow up question, he straightened his knees and abruptly backed away to sit back down in his chair.He must have heard something that I didn't, because as soon as he sat down, the soldier who brought me here had returned, along with the other nine head soldiers and the king.
The soldiers stationed themselves at the front of the dais, bowing at the waist as King Hawthorne walked through the gap they left. He climbed the velvet staircase then set himself down properly on the throne.
I did not give him a chance to settle down before I questioned him. “Why am I here instead of saying goodbye to my family like everyone else?”
“You make quite the first impression.” King Hawthorne chuckled. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Maeve Willawood.”
I gave him a silent nod of acknowledgment. I probably should have bowed like the soldiers did—or at the very least approached the throne to address the king more formally.
Oh well.
The king's hands clasped together as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Are you aware of the gift you have been presented with?”
“I am not, Your Highness.” I rose to my feet and straightened my posture, suddenly intimidated by all of the authority that surrounded me in this room.
He cleared his throat before speaking. “As you know, Blythe is the Goddess of the Mind, and I assume you are aware that she has never gifted her cherished jewel to any mortal?”
I nodded slowly in response.
As it became evident that I wasn't going to approach him, the king rose from his seat. He descended the steps he had only just climbed and advanced on me, stopping inches from where I stood. My spine shivered at the feel of his cold, calloused hand when he reached out and cupped it over my cheek.
He examined me as if I were artwork at auction—like he was trying to decide how much I was worth. The way herotated my head to see every angle of my jewels made me dizzy. I eventually jolted my neck back. I had enough of being gawked at for one day.
His brows furrowed, but he slid his hand from my face and sighed in obvious irritation.
I glared into his soul, trying to demoralize him as he was to me.
He stared back, unaffected, before speaking in a manner that made it seem like the information made no difference to him at all. “You have been gifted the purest of constellastones from the Goddess Blythe.”
I blinked. Once. Twice. Three times, before my eyes widened and stayed that way.
King Hawthorne gave me a moment to process, which was more than appropriate as I was in complete and utter shock. This was obviously an error on Lucan's part. The fact that I was even gifted by a god was a rarity on its own. But the fact that I was gifted byher—that was impossible.
I saw my stones. They were diamonds. They had to be. Sure, they had a tint of aqua, but that wasn't uncommon with the gem.
I shook my head, denying his claim. “No. Sorry, Your Highness, but that is not true.”
Lucan stepped forward. “It is, Miss Willawood. I have been studying minerals ever since I was a boy. There is no question that the jewels adorning your skin are from the Goddess of the Mind,” the advisor said.
I scoffed, rolling my eyes. This was insane. They were delusional. “They are clear. Icy like a diamond,” I argued.
Lucan held a finger up. “One moment. Let me just—” He rummaged through his pockets, then pulled out a small mirror, silver and round. He flipped the hinges open then held it up to my face.
“See here. Though they are small, you can make out the colors within the stones. From afar they appear as diamonds,but up close it's clear that they are something much greater.”
I took the mirror from his hands, trying to see what he was describing. My hope vanished when the lighting of the throne room made it obvious that my gems were not diamonds. The hint of blue that I had seen was sprinkled throughout the icy stone, along with a dulled shade of violet. There were even some tiny iridescent specks of white captured within the grains of the mineral.
They were exquisite—the most beautiful gems I had ever seen. But their beauty did not make up for the fact that I didn't want them.
I snapped the mirror closed and shoved it into Lucan's hand, then crossed my arms over my chest. “Why?” I asked him, not elaborating because I myself did not truly know what I was asking.
Lucan stuffed the mirror back in his pocket. “Why what?”
I threw my arms in the air. “Why did she choose me? Why do I havethreestones? Why are they on my face? Just…why?”
Lucan dropped his head, and his voice was soft as he spoke to me. “We don't know. But it is not our job as mortals to question the goddess’ choice.”
I shook my head again, backing away from the two of them. “This is crazy. It's not possible. This?—”
