The more she focused on the people, the harder it was to draw air.
So many faces surrounded them, and not a single one was kind.
Another roar of thunder overhead.
Kestrel’s chest was tightening. Her skin becoming so itchy she wanted to rip it off.
Then Micah’s hand brushed against hers. She turned herhorrified eyes up to his and found him smiling with a sort of calmness that put her at ease. He nodded to the guards behind them, then to the ones surrounding them on all sides, as if to say she was safe. Nothing would happen to her.
As much as she appreciated his kindness—and she did—the reminder of how encircled by strangers she was only tightened the knot around her chest. It felt like someone’s hands were inside her, squeezing the life from her lungs, preventing any air from reaching the places it needed to reach.
Kestrel gripped Micah’s hand and closed her eyes.
Maybe if she couldn’t see them, it would be easier. She could pretend she was still alone in her tower, gazing out her window across the sea, hoping for the fog to lift so that she could wonder at the hidden island and the dragon bones atop it.
She imagined the sea breeze, and oh how grateful she would be to feel it graze across the nape of her neck now. To feel it tangle in her hair. Inhaling deeply, she could almost smell it, that fresh scent of water and salt that reminded her of home. Of safety. Of comfort.
There was no salt in the air here though.
Instead, she smelled something floral and velvety.
Kestrel opened her eyes to find the crowd had thinned. All but disappeared behind them. No more townsfolk speculating and gossiping. Even the guards had dispersed some, as the princes and Kestrel now approached a network of lush, pristinely kept gardens.
She was surrounded by flowers every shade of pastel, from purples to pinks to blues. Kestrel hadn’t known that so many flowers could cluster together like that, nor that each bloom had its own petal shape, texture, and smell. And oh, did she take the time to smell them all. With childlike wonder, Kestrel pressed each new bud to her nose, inhalingthe variety of fresh, floral, creamy, and some even spicy aromas.
The garden was so beautiful, it almost seemed out of place compared to the cold and fortified kingdom at her backside.
Or maybe it was exactly what this kingdom had needed.
A touch of femininity.
A reminder of beauty in a realm that could oftentimes feel so harsh. So doomed.
Kestrel would’ve been content to spend the rest of her days in the garden alone. But the princes kept marching forward, winding through the garden paths, so Kestrel followed.
At the center erupted a massive estate, the stone walls covered in vines and moss.
Kestrel stopped in her tracks, marveling up at the three or four stories. But a commotion drew her attention off to the side, and she turned to find Efrem and a handful of other guards who were handling the prisoners. Kestrel had forgotten they were with them, too caught up in the newness of her arrival. Now, she watched them shuffle the prisoners around, and even though their heads were still shrouded in burlap sacks, she was able to spot Thom among them. The limp in his leg was worse than ever, and he hobbled to Efrem’s side while the others were taken away to another stone building on the property.
When Efrem rejoined Kestrel and the princes, she wasn’t sure if she should be relieved that he hadn’t been taken away, or worried that his crimes were apparently so significant that he was being brought to the queen immediately. Ultimately, she decided this was a good thing. This meant they could deal with his charges sooner rather than later, maybe even earn his freedom immediately.
Efrem guided Thom up the front steps, Micah, Leighton, and Kestrel falling in line behind him. Two of the castle guards opened the large iron doors for them and they slipped inside.
With Kestrel’s heart sloshing around in her stomach, she hardly noticed the chill that seemed to permeate these halls, despite the floor-to-ceiling windows that flooded the foyer with overcast sunlight. Even after the doors had been shut, a breeze trickled down the halls, rattling the metal adorning the room. But Kestrel could not rip her eyes from Efrem’s back as he guided them into the throne room.
It was almost entirely pitch-black inside, a stark contrast to the illumination behind them.
The darkness only served to feed her dread. Kestrel’s stomach squeezed tighter. It wasn’t what she had expected, to find the throne room so thoroughly doused. None of the princes seemed surprised though, as if this was a place that never saw the light of day. She noted the thick curtains that hung over the places where she presumed windows were, but they were all closed tight, pressed against the walls as if to ensure that not a single sliver of light could enter.
With just a few sconces and tall candelabras to light their way, Kestrel stayed close to the princes, afraid of what might be lurking in the shadows.
She didn’t even notice the throne until they were practically upon it, much less the queen perched inside.
In unison, the princes bowed at the waist, but Kestrel gawked a moment longer. She had never seen someone look so regal, as if the woman before her had been made for the throne. Despite her lithe frame and delicate features, the queen oozed power. Kestrel could tell by the way she sat languid in the throne, as if nothing could harm her, that there was nothing this woman couldn’t do with a simple command or a snap of her fingers.
Efrem shoved Thom’s shoulder to make him do the same.
Eventually, Kestrel dragged her gaze away long enough to follow suit, buckling at the waist and staring at her dusty shoes.
