When we’d first arrived here and wandered around that cliff bend to find the palace perched above the sea, heat had flamed behind Ezalia’s sea glass eyes. It returned again as the queen’s attention fell to her.
“Might it?” Ritalia asked, sipping her wine. Not a drop of the maroon liquid stained her teeth. The unnatural, gleaming white smile worked a shiver down my spine.
“Ezalia Ridgebrook,” the chancellor said, “leader of the fourth minor clan of the Gallantian Warriors, the loyal followers of his Prime Gaveny, Seawatcher. And the rightful ruler of the isle we now inhabit.”
From atop her throne, Queen Ritalia looked down her nose at Ezalia. The condescension skittered beneath my skin, and I had to clench my hands in the folds of my gown to stifle the Angellight pushing at my fingertips. The ridiculous skirts were good for one thing.
Tolek cast me a subtle, wary look as Ritalia said, “Pleasure.”
“You are very welcome for hosting you,” Ezalia said.
“I do not recall thanking you.”
“I know.” I hid my smirk at Ezalia’s words, the others shuffling behind us, and the chancellor went on, “Might I ask how this beautiful palace is here? Given it was not only a few weeks ago.”
Ritalia seemed utterly satisfied by that question, a gleeful smile flicking up her lips. “You find our magic impressive, then.”
I started because that wasn’t what Ezalia had said, and the queen was not supposed to be able to lie. Tolek met my gaze from the corner of his eye, and I knew we were both considering it. But I shook my head, communicating in our silent way that apparently it did not matter whether what the queen said was true, only that shebelievedit to be true.
And as a conqueror who held her throne for centuries, she had learned how to twist others’ words and digest them as truth. To her, us lowly warriors were enthralled with fae magic.
“We are quite curious,” I cut in.
“Did you create it?” Erista asked, scanning the decor. The bright tattoos on her palms glinted in the candlelight as she gestured toward the elaborate details, candelabras dripping in rubies, and her full dusk-colored skirt shifted. “You must have, right?”
“Not I,” Ritalia said, and her gaze landed on Mora and Lancaster. “A glam and a crete are poisonous weapons to have on hand.”
“A crete?” Santorina gasped. With her and Lancaster’s attention locked, every warrior present shifted into a defensive stance. Angelborn pulsed against my spine.
“What’s a crete?” Jezebel asked.
Ritalia’s eyes snagged on my sister, a flicker of something predatory and curious flashing through her stare. Both Jez and Erista stiffened at the attention, the latter shifting a step closer. My hand fisted at my side, and Tolek’s slipped atop it, discreetly unknotting the tension.
“The young Mistress,” Ritalia said, drawing out that word as she scanned Jezebel’s silver gown and jewels, “requires an explanation.”
“A crete is a branch of power for our kind,” Lancaster said, voice stony as always. “It means I can conjure something out of nothing.”
Silence fell across every warrior as that revelation sank in. My mind skipped back to when I’d collided with Lancaster in the Wayward Inn and how he’d mysteriously refilled his glass without needing to rise from the table.
“When we battled Kakias,” Tolek said, “you dragged items out of the air as if it was nothing.”
In the rush of Ricordan’s manor and Sapphire and the Spirit Realm andeverythingthat had followed, I’d forgotten about the powers the fae had displayed.
“And you,” I addressed Mora, “a glam refers to glamour, correct?”
In an instant, Mora’s facial features shifted to a near replica of my own. Around the audience chamber, everyone jumped. “Correct,” the female answered in her voice, not mine.
“Not a perfect illusion, then?” Malakai said.
Ritalia glared at him as she answered, “As near perfect as any fae to ever grace my lands, Star Tied One.”
I narrowed my eyes on the queen at her nickname.
That was the reason Mora was in this court, then. Why Ritalia kept the siblings around. Their deep wealth of power.
I swept the rest of Ritalia’s court. What other threats lurked within?
“There are slight differences,” Tolek said, looking between Mora and me. He didn’t seem to notice Ritalia’s stare narrowing on him, but I took a step closer. “The eyes are a giveaway.”
