With a long sigh, Queen Signe finally conceded. “Fine. Go deal with your brother, then hurry straight back. Dinner will be served shortly. We’ll meet you in the dining hall.”
Both princes bowed their leave, Micah swatting Leighton inthe chest before they bound down the hall and out the throne room. It didn’t escape Elora that Leighton had chosen to leave the same way Kestrel had, even though another exit would’ve been closer to the library and therefore Barnabus.
If Queen Signe noticed, she didn’t show it. Instead, she dismissed Efrem as well, asking him to ensure that the Thundersworn knights on watch over the dungeon knew to keep a keen eye on Darius. It seemed an odd directive, considering the jailors always kept their prisoners under a tight watch—Elora would know—but then she realized that the queen likely just wanted to get the two of them alone.
Once the room was cleared, Queen Signe rose from the throne. Hair as pale as silk fell down her back as she twisted around to face Elora.
Elora steeled herself for the private chastisement that was headed her way. It had been risky to deny the queen’s summons earlier, she had known that. But she was here now. Surely, that would count for something?
“About the girl,” Queen Signe said at last, and Elora had to force her expression to remain neutral. What about the girl? She thought for sure this would’ve been about Darius or Leighton or not following the queen’s commands. But the new princess? What did she care about her? “I want you to befriend her.”
“Befriend her?” The suggestion caught Elora so off guard that she couldn’t hide the confusion, let alone the distaste from her tone. “But she’s…she’s Caeloran.” As if that was explanation enough.
“I don’t care if she’s Vallondean or Sky-Blessed, or even a Molten who somehow floated their way across the sea from Galorfin. She is my sister’s daughter and therefore she has her magic. She could break the curse.”
Of course, that was what this was about. Not that she could blame the queen for wanting a cure. If it had been Elora caughtwithin the Corrupt Queen’s spell, she supposed breaking it would be all she could think of too.
But that didn’t mean Elora had to be the one involved in manipulating the princess to do such a thing. Besides, from the conversation she had overhead, Princess Kestrel seemed more than willing, if not way in over her head.
“I understand that, but what does me befriending her have to do with her undoing the curse? You’re her aunt. She’ll want to help you. She won’t need me to convince her.”
“Perhaps.” The queen waved her hand and started pacing. “But there’s no telling what poisonous thoughts Darius has filled her head with. It’s clear she trusts him. She was worried about his imprisonment—which, by the way, his sentencing will need to be postponed.”
Something hot gripped Elora’s chest. “Postponed? Why?”
“Rest assured, he will get the punishment he deserves. But for now, we have to treat his imprisonment delicately. At least until the girl is on our side.”
Elora wasn’t sure what the queen meant byon our side, considering it seemed everyone in Grimtol was against the curse and supportive of breaking it. No matter how many prisoners they had brought in and out of the dungeons, every single one of them had spoken about the Corrupt Queen and her derelict knight with disdain.
But most of them also felt similarly about the Ashen.
“And you think she’ll want to be friends with someone like me?”
The queen flashed her a vicious, mocking grin. “I would be surprised as well, but I honestly don’t know. She clearly was not afraid of you, and perhaps that can be used to our advantage. We’ll need everyone working their charm on her to ensure that she feels welcome. Protected. Valued, even. I want her to feellike she’s a part of this court, and that her magic is an asset to us all.”
Something was tightening in the bottom of Elora’s stomach, but she couldn’t quite place why. Ending the curse had been a priority for a number of people, for a variety of reasons. But knowing the order was coming from Queen Signe gave Elora pause. She couldn’t help but wonder if this was part of some grander scheme, a powerplay that she had yet to fully understand.
“So you want her to end your curse?”
“Not just mine. Everyone’s.” Power glinted in the queen’s eyes, or perhaps that was just the dark curse churning within her, begging to be let out. “Don’t you?”
Elora nodded, but a hollowness was taking over her.
Curing the curse foreveryonemeant curing King Everard, the man who had given the command to capture her. The man who had approved of her torture. If he was set free, what did that mean for Elora? Was she to be his captive again? She wasn’t foolish enough to think that this was why the queen was wedding her to Prince Leighton, as a way to protect her for once King Everard was free. No one cared about Elora that much. But she also wasn’t foolish to believe this was some random happenstance.
There was something she was missing, but she didn’t know what, and knew the queen wasn’t going to tell her anyway. For now, Elora had only one goal.
“And what does this mean for the wedding?”
The queen raised a slender eyebrow. “In a hurry to start your married life so soon?”
This time, the mockery didn’t cut as deep. It felt more like she was attempting to relate to her. But it also felt like a trap. Another test to gauge her commitment. This time, Elora wouldn’t fail it.
“I’ve been waiting to start the rest of my life for decades. So yes, I am ready. Is the wedding still happening as planned or does this change things?”
The queen seemed to appreciate her response, but she still kept her waiting for a reply. As if this were a game to her. A cat toying with the dying bird in its paws, seeing how long she could stretch her suffering.
“Yes, the wedding is still happening as planned—although, I suppose it will have to be a joint affair now. A coronation as well as a wedding, since King Ulfaskr is officially dead.”
