The gard shot a glance between Adeline and Ger, hesitant.
“Now.”
Tension flickered over the boy’s face, but he gave a reluctant bow of his head and scurried around the corner after Eleni. The moment his grey cloak whipped out of sight, Ger spun around and began to herd Adeline down the hallway.
“We have to move quickly,” he hissed. “The Queen’s Gards tend to avoid the kitchens if they can help it, so I’ll leave you there for a few minutes while I find—”
Panic hiccuped in Adeline’s lungs, and she drew up short, tugging her arms against the rope. Ger faltered at the strain, immediately dropping the rope like he hadn’t realised he was holding her bound wrists—but he was quick to double back and grab her by the arm.
“Ger, stop.”
“There’s no time—”
“No,” she snapped, shrugging him off.
Ger’s face went slack with disbelief, then tight with a sweeping sort of despair she’d never imagined she’d see on that bright, open face. It made something within her crumble. Even more so when he reached for her again, and she was forced to step out of his grasp. His breath caught so sharply she could hear it snag in his lungs.
“Adeline,” he said, an echo to her own sharp tone. “You won’t get this chance again. If Kai knew you were here, he’d tell you the exact same—”
“He’s here,” she breathed. She’d known he would be, of course, but perhaps some small part of her hoped he’d escaped. Changed his mind, turned around, was sailing, even now, back to the warmth of Dhalias.
But Ger gave a solemn nod, and her heart sank.
“About two weeks now,” he said.
“Then I’m exactly where I should be.”
“You don’t know what you’re doing,” Ger wheezed, breath snagging once more. “This isn’t noble, or—orromantic, or whatever it is you’re imagining. She’s vicious. She’s possessive and powerful, and I’ve watched her splinter people to pieces on a whim. She means tomarryhim, Adeline.”
She froze. Every living, beating part of her was suspended in utter shock, and Ger took her silence for pause, nodding as though he’d finally gotten through to her.
“She’s killed forfarless than someone stealing what she thinks is hers.”
Hers.That one word was a flint striker to the heavy weight in her belly, rage simmering neatly in the heat that engulfed her. But Ger took her by the shoulders and stared into her face, stooped to her eye level as he pleaded for understanding.
“She sees Kai ashers, Adeline, and she knows you mean something to him. To us all. Don’t make him watch you die.” Ger’s breath galloped beneath every word, urgency thinning his voice until it finally cracked. “Don’t make me watch.”
And just like that, the fire was doused in cold clarity. There was something in the set of his face, something that hadn’t been there before. Suffering had dulled the ever-present glimmer in his eye, that warmth he radiated, drawn in like a snuffed flame. And it hit Adeline with a fresh surge of crackling rage thathewas hers, too. Hers to protect, just like Kai, and Mareda, and everyone else in the palace and beyond.
Because no matter howpossessiveAvette might be over her shiny new crown, this was Adeline’s home, her family, her kingdom. So no, it wasn’t romantic or noble or whatever other pretty notion Ger had projected on her.
But itwasher duty.
“She won’t hurt me, Ger. I promise.” He drew in a breath to protest, and she stepped in close, raising her bound hands to cup his chin between her palms, forcing his gaze to lock on hers. “Do you trust me?”
Ger’s brow creased, eyes flicking between hers like she was a book page with cramped notes in the margins, some secret he couldn’t decipher no matter how plainly her face spelt it out. After a moment, he sighed—and nodded, his golden stubble scraping her palms.
“I trust you more than anything, Ade.”
???
Stepping into the throne room was like opening your bedroom door only to stumble headfirst into a vast and ancient cavern. The once soaring ceiling hung low, jagged splinters of ice fragmenting the light from the sconces in a disorienting blend of shimmers and shadows. Bodies crowded the walls, fully dressed in outdoor cloaks and thick, furlined hoods, their faces hidden, but their shivering breath pulsing in intermittent clouds of frozen, white air. The Court, as Adeline assumed they must be, were fenced in by a wall of large sculptures that adorned either side of the narrow path to the throne; shimmering, lifelike things with twisted expressions and wide eyes that seemed to follow her with every step she took. Some of them seemed to be mid-flight, sprinting from whatever lay ahead. Adeline was so thrown by their eerie, lifelike appearance that she didn’t fully absorb the sight in front of her—not until Eleni finally paused and sank into a low curtsey, the long, purple train of her dress almost violently bright against the stark marble.
“Your Majesty,” said the Empress. “You are even more beautiful than the legends suggest.”
And it was true.
The woman who sat on her mother’s throne wasterriblybeautiful. She wore an elegant dress of pure-white lace that streamed down the dais stairs like seafoam. Her hair was dark and thick, her complexion a perfect porcelain, unblemished save for the deliberate trail of glittering tears drawn on each cheek. She was stunning, striking—but even her otherworldly beauty was not enough to hold Adeline’s attention.
