“Sira would have loved that,” Ven murmured.
She glanced at him to see if he was joking.
He wasn’t.
They smiled at each other.
Beyond him, the sun had nearly reached the western mountains. Already the sky wore a rosy tinge. She blinked from the blaze of the sun as it streamed through the wall of windows. Jewel-toned glass framed each of the windows, casting pools of colored light.
As soon as this is over, we can all go home. Together.
Softly, so her voice wouldn’t carry, Queen Merecot said, “As the poets would say, when the mountains pierce the sun so deeply that it bleeds, we will go. Truly, you could not have picked a better distraction for my people. Everyone loves a wedding and all the implied happy-ending nonsense.”
“Your soldiers will barricade the castle?” Ven asked, in an equally soft voice.
Merecot nodded. “Yes. No spirits will enter here. I’ve told them it’s out of an overabundance of caution. Weddings are special, you know.”
“This one is,” Ven agreed.
The queen of Semo ignored that. “Of course, if things get truly out of hand, I can’t promise my endearingly rambunctious spirits won’t collapse the castle or shake down the mountain, but if it reaches that point, we’ll both be dead, so what does it matter?”
“Your selflessness is indeed worthy of legends,” Ven said.
Merecot smirked. “It will be.”
“You have guards watching my children?” Naelin asked. “They must be kept safe, or the deal is off.” She wanted to make even more threats: if any harm came to them, she’d unleash every spirit she controlled onto Semo. She’d tear this country apart rock by rock.
“I have my finest guards with them. All human guards, not spirits. Your precious darlings will be safer than anyone else in Semo. And hey, aren’tIsupposed to be using them to threatenyou?”
“Let’s just do this,” Naelin said through gritted teeth.
Merecot just smiled pleasantly at her people and said to Naelin, “When the time is right.”
The musicians played faster, and the Semoians flocked to the dance floor like bejeweled birds. Skirts swirling, the women danced in circles, lightly touching hands, while the men linked arms and marched first right, then left. Glasses were clinked. Laughter rose to the crystal chandeliers.
The hours passed.
On the dais, Naelin watched the sun sink. It did look as if a peak were piercing it. Tinged with blood, the sun spread as it descended into the mountains. “It’s time now.”
Queen Merecot nodded slightly and stepped forward. Raising her arms, she addressed the adoring crowd. With her eyes fixed on the sunset, Naelin didn’t listen to Merecot’s speech or pay attention to the music, dancing, and cheering that it spawned. The wedding guests tossed silver and gold ribbons into the air, and more glasses brimming with amber liquid were passed around.
As the music crescendoed, Ambassador Hanna rolled through the audience first, parting the crowd, and Naelin followed with Ven out of the West Room. Queen Merecot swept by with so much grace and elegance that a few of her subjects swooned when she passed them.
Everyone loves a wedding, Naelin remembered Merecot had said. It seemed she was right. The people all adored the bride and groom, their queen, and one another, at least for tonight.
Outside the West Room, Naelin released Ven so he could push Ambassador Hanna’s chair through the corridors. They didn’t speak as they crossed the castle. She wished she could have seen Erian and Llor after the wedding, tuck them into bed, and reassure them that all would be well.
Let’s just get this over with, and then we can all be together.
Two hallways from the West Room, Merecot ordered her guards to stay behind. Three hallways away, Hanna signaled to her guards to leave as well.
This part of the castle was silent, except for their footsteps and the crunch of Hanna’s wheels. On the walls, the tapestries were faded and frayed, and the stone behind the sconces was stained black from decades of smoke. Another corridor, and Naelin noticed the dust on the floor: there were no footprints. Cobwebs clung to the ceiling.Strange, Naelin thought. She knew Merecot wasn’t about to clean her own castle, but she had both caretakers and spirits at her command. She wondered why this wing of the castle had been ignored.
Unwatched, the two queens, the champion, and the ambassador entered a small courtyard lit only by the rising moon, a weak crescent vulnerable to the clouds. A few stars were visible.
Naelin glanced at Hanna, but the ambassador seemed unconcerned about the fact that they were in a forgotten part of the castle without any guards. She’d been similarly unfazed by the scope of the wedding ceremony.They’ve been talking behind my back,Naelin guessed. She wondered if that was cause for alarm and decided no, she trusted Hanna. Plus it was too late for alarm. She was committed now.
The courtyard looked abandoned: shriveled weeds filled the cracks between the stones, a few arches had crumbled and the rubble had never been removed, and the center of the square was loose dirt.
