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“Back to the suite?” I stared stupidly at him. “So, that’s it? It’s over?”
He nodded. “The ritual was complete. Celeste was the last. What she did won’t change anything for the rest of us. But no, not the suite. The ceremony is finished, but we have...” He cleared his throat. “Traditionally, a gala is held in the Queen’s Gardens.”
I gaped at him. “Your mother is holding a fucking garden party? Even after all of this?”
He grimaced. “I doubt she will change her plans. We’re expected there. It will help to cement your place so we’ll go.”
It wasn’t a question.
“Don’t you want to... freshen up?” That was an understatement.
Draven’s mouth curved up slightly. “I suspect the Siabra will be more titillated than offended if I attend like this–” He gestured to the blood and grime. “But yes, for your sake, I suppose I should change.” He ran a hand over his dark hair and touched the gold diadem. Pulling it off, he looked at it with distaste. “My mother’s request.”
He passed it to me. “Here. Hold it for me. I’ll only be a moment. Gawain and Crescent’s suite is nearby. I’ll go there and clean up, then find you.”
Of course. Gawain and Crescent lived here in the palace. Odessa must, too. And Lyrastra. Just how massive was this place?
I had still never even glimpsed the city above. I wondered if I ever would.
CHAPTER 11
The garden was glowing.
Luminescent orbs floated gently through the trees, shining with ethereal light upon walkways lined with delicate blooms.
Unlike the Shadow Gardens, where Crescent and I had left Nightclaw earlier that day, the Queen's Gardens were carefully pruned and cultivated. Artfully trimmed pathways meandered through lush groves of exotic night-blooming flowers, their petals aglow with a soft blue luminescence like the moss I had seen on the stone walls elsewhere. Elaborate topiaries shaped like birds and animals lined the garden, their forms casting eerie shadows.
Seated among the foliage, a group of musicians played melodies on instruments shaped from wood and reeds as nobles and courtiers drifted about, conversing in low tones and sipping from delicate crystal goblets.
Amidst it all, the Queen Regent stood on a small dais adorned with vines and flowers. Holding a goblet in her hand, she scanned the crowd until her eyes fell upon me.
Her lips turned up in amusement as she saw me standing there alone holding Draven’s circlet.
“Greetings, Child of the Valtain. Are you enjoying the evening’s entertainment? Or is my son’s bed the only sport your kind desires?”
She turned away without waiting for me to answer.
