Chapter 6 The High King
"Ostentatious?" Liriel offered.
"Excessive?" Thalia suggested.
"Vulgar?" Sera added.
"I was going to say bright," I said. "But those work too."
Captain Aldric, riding ahead of us, did not comment. He had grown increasingly tense as we approached the city, his shoulders rigid and his jaw tight. Whatever awaited us in the palace, he was not looking forward to it.
The city gates swung open as we approached. Guards in golden armor snapped to attention. Citizens lined the streets, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the royal escort, and its mysterious charge.
I had put my hood down. Let them look.
The whispers followed us like a tide.
—those eyes—
—the Princess of Hel—
—I heard she bathes in blood—
—my cousin says she eats—
—look at her face, she's actually—
—beautiful?
—I was going to say terrifying—
—both—
—yes, both—
I smiled. It was my court smile, the cold, dangerous one. The one that said I know what you're saying and I do not care.
In my arms, Ash stirred. We were approaching the palace gates now, and the crowd was thicker here, pressing against the guards who lined the route. Nobles in silks and velvets. Servants in crisp uniforms. Courtiers with calculating eyes, already measuring my worth and finding me wanting.
The palace gates swung open.
The courtyard beyond was enormous, a sprawling expanse of white marble and manicured gardens, centered on a fountain that spewed water tinted gold. Because of course it did. Because everything in this kingdom had to be gold.
And at the far end of the courtyard, at the top of a sweeping marble staircase, stood a figure.
He was terribly handsome. In a very fae way.
He was tall. Broad-shouldered. Dressed in colors of cream and gold and deep, royal blue. His hair was the color of burnished bronze, catching the sunlight like a crown of fire. His face was sharp and proud and so absurdly handsome that it felt like an insult.
But it was his eyes that stopped me.
Icy striking blue. Pale and cold and utterly unreadable.
High King Cardan Oberon Ashryver Windsor.
My betrothed.
The male who had ignored me for eighteen years.
The procession halted. Captain Aldric dismounted and bowed deeply. "Your Majesty. The Princess Nyx Andromeda Viveca Morrigan of Hel, as requested."
Silence.
Cardan descended the stairs. His movements were fluid, controlled, the walk of someone who knew exactly how much power he held and exactly how little anyone else could do about it.
I did not dismount. Let him look up at me.
I looked down at him from atop my horse, but he was tall enough to match my gaze,, my dragon in my arms, my shadows curling lazily around my shoulders.
"Your Majesty," I said. My voice carried across the courtyard, clear and cold. "Eighteen years. I do hope the wait was worth it."
His icy blue eyes met my violet ones.
Something flickered in their depths. Surprise? Anger? Something else entirely?
"Princess Nyx," he said. His voice was deep, smooth, and entirely devoid of warmth. "Welcome to my court. I trust your journey was..."
"Long. Bright. Uncomfortable." I swung down from my horse, landing silently on the marble. Ash flowed from my arms to my shoulder, his tail curling around my neck like a living scarf. "Your realm is very... golden."
"Is that a complaint?"
"An observation."
A muscle in his jaw twitched. "I see."
We stood there, facing each other in the center of the courtyard, surrounded by watching courtiers and frozen guards. The silence stretched like a blade between us.
He was taller than I had expected. Too tall. Broader. His face was all sharp angles and cold beauty, except for his mouth. There were shadows beneath his eyes, shadows I recognized. The kind of exhaustion that came from wearing a crown you never asked for.
Interesting.
"Shall we?" he said, offering his arm. Not a request. A command wrapped in silk.
I did not take it.
"I know where the palace is," I said. "It's the massive golden thing. Hard to miss."
I walked past him, toward the stairs, toward the palace, toward whatever gilded cage awaited me inside.
Behind me, I heard him exhale, a soft, almost imperceptible sound.
Then his footsteps followed.
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The Aurelian Palace was, I decided, a monument to excess.
Every corridor stretched twice as long as necessary. Every ceiling arched three stories high, painted with frescoes of sunbursts and winged Fae and things that were probably meant to be inspirational but just looked expensively tacky. Gold leaf covered every surface that could possibly hold it, door frames, window ledges, the claws of the marble statues lining the halls, and even some surfaces that couldn't. Someone had gilded the plants. Actual living plants, their leaves painted with gold, drooping sadly in their ornate pots as if begging for death.
I filed that away as another thing to loathe about the surface world. They were so obsessed with beauty that they killed things to achieve it.
Ash sneezed on a gilded fern as we passed. The leaf shriveled instantly.
Good dragon.
The throne room doors loomed ahead of us, massive things of white wood and gold inlay, carved with scenes of ancient battles I didn't recognize and didn't care to. Guards in gleaming armor flanked either side. They did not look at me as I approached. They looked through me, the way people did when they were too afraid to meet your eyes but too proud to admit it.
I stopped walking.
Cardan, still a step behind me, nearly collided with my shoulder. "What are you doing?"
"Waiting."
"For what?"
I turned my head just enough to meet his silver eyes. "For you to walk beside me. Unless you'd prefer to enter your throne room trailing behind the Princess of Hel like a lost puppy?"
His jaw tightened. I was beginning to recognize that expression, the tiny muscle beneath his left eye that twitched whenever I said something he couldn't immediately dismiss. It was becoming my favorite part of his face.
"I was being courteous," he said, his voice dangerously even. "Allowing you to enter first."
"I don't need your courtesy. I need you to look your court in the eye while standing at my side, so they understand that whatever this arrangement is, it is equal." I smiled,, the cold one, the one that didn't reach my eyes. "Unless equality frightens you, Your Majesty?"
For a moment, he just stared at me. The silence stretched. Behind us, Captain Aldric shifted uncomfortably. My handmaidens held their breath.
Then Cardan stepped forward. Shoulder to shoulder with me. Close enough that I could smell that winter-storm scent of his, cedar and cold air and something sharp beneath it.
"Equal," he repeated, as if testing the word. "Is that what you want, Princess?"
"It is what I demand."
"Then try to keep up."
The doors swung open before I could answer.