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“Shit,” I cursed, having completely forgotten why we were there in the first place.
Grae chuckled, releasing me. “Have fun, little fox.”
Hector appeared beside his sister, his eyebrows raised. “You’re going to miss your cue.”
“It was my fault,” Grae said. “Wait.” He halted me by the crook of my arm and wiped a thumb down the corner of my mouth.
I had forgotten I’d painted my lips red. Grae’s lips were smudged scarlet as well. I gave him a mischievous grin, turning and following Sadie toward the main hall.
“Hector found the apothecary’s room,” she whispered, her voice barely audible as we rushed down the hall. “It’s a floor above, unguarded. We should only need a few minutes. Make it good, songbird, and there will be no eyes upon us.”
“No pressure, then?” I muttered, lifting my heavy feather train so I could walk faster.
“Not much,” Sadie taunted. “Just the fate of your kingdom hanging in the balance. Nothing too big.”
“Thanks,” I snorted and she clapped me on the shoulder.
Reaching for the gilded side door, her hand stilled on the handle. “Of all the Wolf rulers I ever thought I would follow, I thank the moon that it is you.”
My breath hitched, humbled by her words, and I simply nodded to her, afraid that any more words might lead to tears.
The music up ahead slowed and I knew the last song was finishing and then it would be my turn. Somehow, whatever butterflies existed in the pit of my stomach had vanished. The feathers fluttered along my shoulders as I rolled them back and strode through the opening door. My smile widened. I felt like I was flying.
The vast hall glittered with gilded chandeliers, dripping crystal candelabras, and mirror-lined walls. The clamorous banter dropped to a hushed din as I skirted through the side door, trying to embody the power of my bright red costume. A sea of masks tracked me as I approached the quartet tucked in the corner.
“You look magnificent,” Ora whispered as I took my place on the golden pedestal in front of them.
I bowed deeply to the Queen standing in the center of the crowd.
Queen Ingrid had white-blond hair arranged atop her head, her silver and gold crown spearing toward the sky like rays of sunlight. Her voluminous icy blue dress belled so wide around her that the doting courtiers circling her were beyond arm’s reach. I couldn’t make out her eyes in the shadows of her diamond-studded mask, but I knew she was watching me from the curious cock of her head as she fanned herself.
I wished Briar were there. She might’ve never wanted to be a queen, but she would’ve loved to come to a ball like this—to wear fine gowns, to dance among royal Wolf family, to relish the long evenings that stretched out to dawn. She might never get a chance.
Not unless I made this count, right here, right now.
The hall was so crammed with masked faces that I couldn’t see the far doors. Was the Ice Wolf pack this large? Unless Queen Ingrid invited Wolves from other realms to her soiree... It seemed unlikely that any of them were human.
Malou’s bow tapped me on the calf and the crowd tittered. I glanced to the side and saw her frowning up at me.
Oh Gods, I’d missed my cue—too mesmerized by the giant crowd and opulent room.
The strings swelled again and this time I began to sing. Ora accompanied me, though their voice was considerably softer than the day before in the plaza.
The crowd was supposed to dance and chat while I sang, but first they joked about my miscue, and now every partygoer stood still, watching me like I was a famous opera singer. My heart pounded in my ears, but I forced my voice louder, praying it didn’t wobble.
From the corner of my eye, I spotted Grae’s twisted black mask. He was tucked in the corner, barely visible behind a white marble pillar, but knowing he watched strengthened my voice. I gave him a warning look. Even with his mask, it was dangerous for him to be out here.
When I hit my final note, the crowd burst into applause and I dropped into a bow, humbled by their ovation.
“Encore, encore!” they cheered.
They began calling out the titles of songs, many I hadn’t heard before, requests I didn’t know. My brows pinched together as my eyes darted from one voice to the next.
Queen Ingrid took a decisive step forward and said, “Do ‘The Sleeping Queen.’ Everyone knows that one.”
My stomach dropped. “The Sleeping Queen,” the song about my mother. I glanced to where Grae leaned against the wall. How could I get myself out of this? I couldn’t tell if it was a trick of the light, but Grae seemed to nod his head, an infinitesimal movement. The way Queen Ingrid requested it left no room to refute. I clasped my hands together and bobbed my head to her.
The musicians began the faster refrain. It was a happy tune, a tale of true love triumphing in the face of unbeatable odds. Gratefully, the crowd broke apart and began to dance as I sang, spurred on by the jolly melodies. But the joy of my mother’s tale felt horribly hollow to me. She didn’t have her happy ending, and her daughter had befallen the same fate, and this time Sawyn was wise enough not to leave her mate around to break the curse.
