He went thankfully still. “What should I do, then?”
“Go into my study and start reading.”
“Reading what?” His voice was further away now.
I turned the corner and glanced back once at his confused, hopeful face. “Everything.”
Perhaps by the time I returned, he would have disappeared from the citadel entirely. He’d be better off with anyone but me.
CHAPTER THREE
Eurydice
The invitation sat atop a tray,on tri-folded parchment with a golden wax seal. A hawk’s wings filled the center of the seal—such a pretty ornament, it felt wrong to break.
A minute before, I’d been woken by my handmaiden Eleyrie’s knock. As soon as I opened the door, she’d thrust the tray out to me with both hands. “An invitation from Queen Liora of the summer court.”
“An invitation to what?”
Eleyrie had no answer; she only had the tray and the letter. I sent her away and stood in the center of my chamber in my robes with the thick parchment in hand.
As long as I didn’t open it, I didn’t have another snarl to contend with.Queen Liora of the summer court.Highmark—bright and vain, as Faun had called them.
“Open it, or I will.”
Faun stood in the doorway, already in her leathers. She leaned against the frame with crossed arms. Had she been following Eleyrie? Probably; Faun seemed to have two sets of eyes and always to rise before the sun.
I extended the parchment to her. “You do it. I can’t read Faerish, anyway.”
She swiped the invitation from me and slid her finger under the seal. It opened with ease, the wax breaking in two, and she flicked the paper wide. Her eyes traveled down the length of it. “Oh, that first-rate bitch.”
I came around next to her and studied the looping ink as though scrutiny could make it legible. “Tell me.”
Faun threw the paper toward the bed; it fluttered to the bearskin rug. “She’s holding the Festival of the First Light.In two weeks.”
Festivals in the southern district usually constituted a full night at the pub, some carousing in the streets, drunkenness and song. They lasted a couple days and raised spirits. But here in Feyreign, they preceded a dance of death.
She strode toward the doorway. “Stay right here.” She disappeared into the hall, her rapping steps echoing away.
I crossed to the discarded paper and picked it up. Black looping ink, every letter of it foreign to me. As foreign as Highmark. As foreign as my own court.
Two minutes later, Faun returned with a red-faced Haskel behind her. His hair stood askew like he’d just woken. “Show it to me.” His voice was uncommonly gruff.
When I extended the invitation to him, he yanked it from me and turned it right side up. A second later, he slapped the paper with his hand. “Rhiannon’s not yet buried.”
Faun stood with hands on hips. “Exactly.”
Since the day I’d entered Feyreign, the ground had moved beneath me faster than I could keep pace. I had been right: the invitation was a snarl.
“It’s a break in protocol.” Haskel ran a hand down his beard; his blue eyes snapped to mine. “My queen, would you be so kind as to follow me?”
His queen.I tightened my robes around me. “Follow you where?”
“To the dining room.”
My brow lowered. “Why?”
“Because I haven’t had breakfast, and my mind doesn’t work as well when I’m woken by this one yelling.” He nodded at Faun and folded the invitation back up. “I’ll send Dorian’s squire for him.”