Avonlea was waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs. “Is the commander going to be okay?” she asked, biting her lip nervously.

“She will be, after some rest,” I told her.

“Oh, good.” She brightened. And then she leaned closer, whispering to me, “They’re waiting for you.”

“They?”

“Everyone,” she breathed.

I saw Niko, standing outside the doors.

I didn’t have to be told it was me he awaited. That I was the reason his yellow eyes lit up—and not Zafir or Avonlea.

I thought about going back, about waiting at Brooklynn’s bedside with Aron. But Niko drew me.

Go, Sabara urged.

And I did.

When I reached him, I let my hand fall into his, already outstretched for me. Our fingers seemed to fit together perfectly.

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He didn’t say anything, just led me toward the ballroom. And I followed, wordlessly. I kept my gaze fixed on the back of his black jacket, at the way it fit across his shoulders, hugging them just so. I noticed the way the curls of his golden hair fell just over the back of his collar.

We had to pass a pair of fire-eaters who stood on either side of the entrance to the ballroom, and I could feel the heat sweltering from their torches, as they—in tandem—each unhinged their jaws to engulf a mouthful of flames on a stick.

I ducked my head to hide my joy and wished it had more to do with the performers and the party than with the company I kept.

Inside, an ensemble of musicians at the back of the ballroom played enthusiastically for the guests who were dancing in the center of the expansive floor. There were more than a few glasses of Amrita being consumed, and I was acutely aware that there were far more experienced drinkers than Brooklynn and I.

Neva glanced up then and saw me, and without seeing her signal, the music came to a close. Then all the queens lined up, one by one, shoulder to shoulder, as everyone in the room fell silent.

Somewhere behind me, a man’s baritone voice rang out, “Introducing Charlaina Di Heyse, Queen of Ludania.”

I stood there, uncertain what I was meant to do.

“Go,” Niko urged beneath his breath as he released my hand.

People gathered on both sides of me, creating a human corridor, and making it clear which way I was meant to go. Unlike at the Academy that day, there was no chatter coming from them, no hisses or shouts of dissension. Only silence.

I stepped and stepped again, making my way toward the formation of queens.

Neva was the first to greet me, with a cool smile on her lips. “Welcome,” she said, kissing each of my cheeks respectfully.

Empress Filis was next in line, also kissing me, although her lips lingered longer than Neva’s had. “You’re doing great,” she told me as she clutched my shoulders.

Empress Thea’s kiss was cool against my cheek and she said nothing.

Hestia held her dog in her arms, saying only, “Welcome, Ludania.” And I answered, “Thank you, Lochland,” with the straightest face I could muster.

Queen Elena and the girl who stood beside her each wore a beautiful gown in different shades of bronze that matched their hair to perfection, as if the very fabric had been spun just for them. The girl’s mischievous eyes sparkled as she, too, stepped forward to greet me when Elena did. “This is my sister, Sage,” Elena explained, introducing me to the princess of Astonia.

The girl dropped gracefully, making me feel awkward and unwieldy just watching her. I could never execute such a perfect curtsy. “A pleasure, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you,” I said to Sage, unable to help smiling back at her. She had an impish look about her, as if she were about to laugh at any moment. “I have a sister too,” I told them, feeling that there was more that linked us than just a shared border. “I wish she could’ve come to see all of this. She would’ve loved it.”

“I’m having a wonderful time,” Sage said enthusiastically. She picked up the shimmering folds of her gown as if entranced by it. “I feel like”—her nose wrinkled as she glanced back up at me—“like a princess,” she finished with a playful shrug.

As I moved past them, I caught the wizened stare of Queen Langdon, the aged queen of Solaris, waiting for me, and I drew to a stop. There was something about her shrewish appraisal that unsettled me, as if she were seeing too much of me. Something that had nothing at all to do with the sheer fabric I wore.

Her lips tightened, so minutely that, at first, I thought I’d only imagined it. But then her eyes followed suit, squeezing to suspicious slits.

Ignore her, Sabara whispered in my ear.

But I was unable to tear my gaze away from the old queen who watched me, and I felt as if she, too, were inside of me now, probing and digging inside my head, searching my thoughts. . . . Even though I knew it wasn’t possible. I suddenly wanted to keep Sabara—her very presence inside of me—a secret, and I worried that someone might realize she was with me. That my secret—our secret—might be revealed, and we’d be banished. Ostracized.

Then I’d never find the help I wanted for my country.

Keep moving. Sabara’s insistence grew. She doesn’t matter.

I didn’t believe Sabara. Something told me she was mistaken, that Langdon did matter. That I was missing something.

She neither spoke nor kissed me. There was no formal greeting at all, and as the music started up, I felt Niko at my side. “What is it?” he asked, drawing me away as the other queens began to rejoin the party. He followed my gaze to Queen Langdon and I felt him stiffen beside me.




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