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Cassius kneels before my trunk and pulls out a dark gray dress. It’s simple, with frayed lace embellishments along the curve of the hips and around the deep neckline. The material is light and looks as if it were made from ash. Somehow, that seems fitting.
He pools the dress on the floor at my side, allowing me to sidestep into it easily. I motion for him to look away before turning my back on him to remove my training clothes.
I pull it up, clutching the front to my chest. “You can turn around now,” I say.
His hands work the laces in the back, tying them with deft efficiency, only pausing halfway to slide my partially braided hair over my shoulder. His knuckles brush my skin lightly, pausing for a heartbeat before resuming the task of lacing me up.
When he’s finished, Cassius runs his fingers through my hair, unbraiding it and working out all the knots I neglected to brush when I was initially getting ready. I appreciate that he doesn’t tie it into the uncomfortable styles that are popular with the court but instead allows it to remain down, as I prefer to wear it. I will be the only one with my hair not styled, but I won’t stick out any more than the queen intends anyway.
Cassius turns me to face him, but after a second of his pitying gaze, I avert my eyes.
I get the impression this announcement is largely to put me in my place and remind me, in some unpleasant manner, that she is the one with power.
My hand skims over my stomach where Alexander opened me up with his nails. As if I could forget that to most, I am nothing more than a human whose use barely extends beyond being a food source for a vampire.
Cassius slides a hand down the length of my arm, gliding over the faint scars, to tangle his fingers in mine. He tries to smile, but it falls as quickly as it appears.
It feels intimate. I tug once on my arm, but he tightens his grip. Too nervous to fight over something so meaningless, I stop resisting.
Several minutes pass with us standing in my room, holding hands. I stare at a spot on the wall until my gaze blurs. The weight of his eyes on me is heavy. Cassius gives my hand a gentle squeeze, drawing my attention back to him.
I scrunch my brows in silent question. His mouth is drawn in a tight line and his brows pull together in pity. Cassius lowers his eyes in a slow blink, like a subtle bow. The gesture seems to sayeverything will be all right.
Nerves prickle under my skin as we wait and wait and wait.
The clocktower bell in town rings, echoing through the air. It’s early evening. I must have slept most of the day away without realizing it.
Cassius tucks my arm under his then escorts me from the room. We walk with an even pace that is just this side of too slow. The only sound as we make our way through the corridors is that of our footsteps.
We are the last to arrive.
Vampires fill the throne room. There are more here today than during the ball. Scanning the area, I don’t see another human among the masses.
Cassius pulls me tighter into his side and slinks along the back wall with me in tow.
Letting him guide the way, I stretch my neck, rising up on my toes to try and find Alaric. I know he’s here because I can feel him through the mark. He calls to me the closer he is. Too distracted after yesterday’s training session, I failed to sense him, but now, his pull on our strange connection is nearly tangible.
A large hand lands on my shoulder and pushes me down. Cassius frowns, shaking his head followed by a quick jerk of his chin in the queen’s direction.
Demon shit.
Her cold lavender eyes root me in place as she leans over the arm of her throne to whisper to a guard. He nods sharply then walks toward us.
I take a step back to hide behind Cassius, trying desperately to disappear.
His fingers wrap around my upper arms before I’m halfway there. “It’s too late now, little bird. You cannot fly away this time.”
The crowd parts, letting the guard through. Crimson ringed eyes lock onto my face as he makes a beeline toward me.
He stops several feet away. “Come with me,” he says in a clipped tone.
I swallow the lump of fear that forms in my throat, then with a furtive glance toward Cassius, I follow the guard toward the front. I’m grateful when Cassius stays with me, his hand on my back to guide me. The vampire crowd closes in behind us as we pass like a wave of water that wants to pull us under.
Once we are in front, Elizabeth stands. She is alone. Sheer lace runs through the black dress fitted to her slender and lithe form. It hugs her arms, and wends around her ribs, over her stomach and hips, to the high slit on one leg. The long skirt trails behind her.
A light tug on my heart turns my stomach into knots. I hold my breath. Alaric is close, I feel him, and not for the first time, I wish we could communicate through the mark.
Under the bone-white crown with its thick, jutting points, her golden hair is pinned up in intricate twists and knots ending in a cascade of curls down her back.
