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Kallie took a steadying breath, counting to ten as she neared the doors to the balcony. She glanced over her shoulder and surveyed the handmaidens at her back.
Myra gave her an encouraging nod, and Kallie offered her a soft smile in return before facing the doors again.
The chatter on the other side seeped through the wooden door.For many in the crowd, this would be their first introduction to Kallie. For others, it would be the first time they saw her since the suitors offered their hand in marriage and vowed to honor and protect her choice. Unlike that ceremony in Ardentol, no guard would accompany her, no father would guide her, no king would hold on to her as she made these first steps. Kallie would do this alone.
A smoky voice echoed in her mind:What will make you happy?
She steadied her shaking hand, folding her hands in front of her lap, the gold ring cold against her skin.
This was still the dream she wished for, she reminded herself. Behind those doors, her future awaited. No matter how alone she might feel, this was what she had been fighting for her entire life.
Kallie nodded at the guards.
As the doors creaked open, Kallie stepped forward, and the room fell silent.
Chapter33
GRAESON
They had a plan,but they were not prepared for their plan to fall apart before the day had even begun.
The morning of the welcome dinner, Dani had fallen ill. Unable to keep anything down and barely able to walk without the nausea returning, there was no way Dani would make it through the dinner. Gifted or not, some things could not be superseded.
Forced to change tactics, Terin, Moris, and Sylvia opted to stay back with Dani, leaving Graeson, Emmett, Armen, and the Tetrians to handle the welcome dinner.
While Graeson had to admit that six people were easier to maneuver than ten, walking into the castle without Dani and Terin felt strange.
Even stranger, though, was the presence of Emmett’s gift. While Graeson had visited the Cavern of Catius many times, he would never get used to its presence. Emmett’s gift was like a light layer of oil on Graeson’s skin, barely noticeable, but he could still feel the sticky film that didn’t seep into his skin comfortably. Like with Fynn’s mind reading or Kalisandre’s manipulations, Graeson could always sense the presence of somethingothertrying to infiltrate his mind or body. Graeson actively had to allow another’s gift to perpetrate his senses, or it would slide right off him. Usually, this was a blessing, but it was more of a hindrance when it came to Emmett’s gift. He couldn’t afford Kalisandre or anyone else to recognize him before it was time.
The six of them had been directed to a table near the front of the room. Sitting at the nearby tables were other noteworthy members of Vaneria. Graeson noted Lucien’s attendance, one of the princes of West Borgania. It was unsurprising to Graeson that the Western half of Borgania was represented at the wedding while the Eastern half remained forgotten. Since the Great War, the kingdom of Borgania had been divided. Lucien and his brothers were known for their impressive hunting skills, but the Pontians knew the truth. They were savage and cruel, tearing apart animals in brutal, unforgivable ways.
Graeson scanned the rest of the tables. Everywhere Graeson looked, enemies surrounded them.
A gold crown caught his attention and dragged it toward the front of the room. Like the rest of the people in the room, the king wore all black. A flash of color twinkled on the cuffs and buttons of his suit jacket. Brilliant red gemstones glittered in the candlelight as if a small fire breathed and danced inside each ruby. Even in the abysmal lighting, Graeson noted that the young king took after his mother more than his late father. However, unlike the king’s mother standing beside him, Rian’s naivety was blatantly obvious. His eyes sparkled with hope. Graeson knew that look well, for he had often seen Fynn wear it. It was the belief that he could change the world—that hewouldchange the world. But Graeson knew that traditions were so engrained into the Frenzians’ way of life that those dreams would quickly be squandered.
An older man at the table said something unintelligible, and the rest of the table roared in laughter at his joke. The woman beside him and the former queen of Frenzia shook their heads at the man with restrained amusement.
Armen leaned over and whispered in Graeson’s ear, “Those are the king’s maternal grandparents. King Rian’s mother comes from an old, wealthy line of Frenzian lords and ladies.”
Graeson nodded but said nothing else about it, for he didn’t care about the king’s family history. He continued scanning the room.
All around Graeson, the faces of the guests were shrouded in darkness. Not even the faint glow of the thousands of candles on the tables could provide enough light to shine onto them. Yet even with the looming darkness, Graeson knew without a doubt that one face was absent from the buzzing crowd.
“Do you see him?” Graeson asked Armen.
Armen shook his head, and Graeson narrowed his gaze. Domitius’ absence should have settled the nerves pulsing in Graeson’s stomach, but for some reason, it didn’t.
“Maybe he’s late,” Armen whispered.
Graeson raised a brow. “When have you ever known Domitius to be late?”
Armen scratched the back of his head, brows drawing together as he looked around the room.
A bell rang at the bottom of the balcony stairs, and the crowd grew silent. Once those who were standing took their seats, the musicians at the back of the room began to play. The balcony doors creaked open, and suddenly, the darkness in the room no longer mattered.
When Kalisandre stepped through the dark oak doors and into the moonlight pouring down from the skylights, Graeson’s breath caught in his throat. Red fabric dripped down her body, and the moon’s light bounced off the diamonds that hung from her shoulders. And Kalisandre became the light in the room, the chandelier that sparkled above them all. As she strolled toward the top of the stone staircase, Graeson couldn’t look away from her.
Kalisandre scanned the crowd, searching, and Graeson couldn’t help it. He straightened in his seat, his muscles growing taut.
