CHAPTER ONE
Eurydice
In the throne room,Faun’s grip on my hand was my only tether.
Queenslayer.
Dorian’s fingers touched the brand on his chest; his eyes met mine. A room full of fae separated us, yet it felt like none at all. He stood too close.
“What does it mean?” I whispered without moving my head.
“It’s no good for you,” Faun said, “or for him.”
The ceremony had ended. The spiritstag’s hooves clopped; its light followed it out of the citadel, the doors shut behind it, leaving us in amethyst semidarkness. Me—all my subjects—and Dorian, queenslayer.
The crown pressed like a skullcap. A helm of thorns.
The throne room erupted into chatter, jeers. The spacearound Dorian cleared out as though he were twice his size. He hadn’t moved since the spiritstag had ordained himveyre.
For once, I wished he would stop staring at me like two celestial bodies had converged where I stood.
Faun spoke Faerish to the handmaiden standing closest. Then, to me, “That’s enough coronating. Unless you’d like to stay?”
Gods no. I turned toward the stairs.
“I thought not.” She snapped her fingers, and two handmaidens came to my sides. “Escort the queen to her chambers.”
One of the handmaidens I recognized—Eleyrie. She curtseyed, said soft words, urged me to follow. I did, gladly, up the staircase I’d come by. Chin up, but eyes unfocused, feet still bare. The greater the distance between me and Dorian, the tighter my chest became, as though turning my back to him was a worse fate than keeping him in sight.
Words followed me. I didn’t recognize half of them, only the tone of voice. Other fae had lowered their heads to me, as if meeting eyes was a disrespect—or maybe a curse.
When Eleyrie led me past my chamber door, I stopped.
She turned. “My queen?”
Me. She meant me. “You’ve passed it by.”
“Those are guest chambers, my queen.” Her face and voice bore no evidence of feeling or judgment; she must be good at hiding herself. “Your chambers are two flights up.”
I didn’t move. “This is my room.”
“But—”
Faun’s footsteps were unmistakable—sharp exclamation points down the hall behind us. “Did you not hear your queen?” She slipped behind me, pressed the door to my room open. “She’s told you what she wants.”
Eleyrie lowered her head. “I apologize, Your Grace.”
I didn’t know what to do with Eleyrie’s deference. She saw an illusion in me; she saw power. So I said nothing, only stepped intothe room.Myroom—the only one I felt safe in. I knew its shape in the dark, its patterns in the light.
Faun shut the door behind us, closing us away from the handmaidens and Dorian and the rest of the court. She stood against it, observing me. “Holy fuck.”
I turned toward her. “You didn’t mention any queenslayers, Faun.” Anger—accusation—curled around my words.
“I didn’t expect?—”
A knock came on the door, three hard raps. “Open up,” a voice boomed. Haskel.
Faun groaned and opened the door, stuck her face into the crack. “Excuse you.”